By Matt Lorenzo
High in the hills near Da Lat, and close to what seems to be the top of the world, I left my luxurious tent at five in the morning to hunt some clouds.
As it happens, the weather wasn’t great for the task ahead, but the experience is still, well, way up there. Clean air, beautiful scenery, and a view that ran for miles. Not quite Cloud Nine but not far off it.
We’d arrived at Cloud Glamping the night before, barbecued our own dinner and sat around a campfire feeling adventurous. Like brave explorers, albeit explorers in tents fitted with heaters and feather duvets and located next to private bathrooms with possibly the best views of any bathroom anywhere.
Even without the clouds, our short stay was a terrific experience, a hard run up against nature and such a contrast to the bustle and organised chaos that we’d left behind in Ho Chin Minh City.
Da Lat, our base for three days, is set in the highlands, a 45-minute plane ride from the city. It’s popular with Vietnamese tourists keen to escape the heat of the city but few foreigners were in evidence, which added to the allure. We stayed at the brand-new Golden Imperial Hotel. Spotless and modern, it offered every luxury including an ensuite Japanese toilet – a sort of human car wash. And I never had the courage to find out what process the button marked “Wand clean” initiated.
From Da Lat we explored some of the greenhouses which help produce around 2.4 billion flower stems annually, a number which makes whoever ever named Da Lat “The City Of A Thousand Flowers” sound like a bit of a pessimist. The flower industry is worth £168 million to the city’s economy, but even that figure is dwarfed by the £3 billion Vietnam turns over through coffee exports, a figure second only to Brazil.
The biggest earner are the beans pooped out by weasels. Poop coffee is amongst the most popular and expensive in the world. We took a trip to see the weasels, take a look at their handiwork, see it washed and then ground into a morning cup of Joe. Luckily weasel poop coffee doesn’t taste like what it actually is, but no one knows who actually worked out that feeding the animals coffee beans enhances the beans’ flavour. Apparently there’s something about a weasel’s digestive tract that changes the chemical composition and taste of a coffee bean. But I’d still love to know how someone worked that out.
Back in Ho Chi Minh City, we rejoined what seems to be a never-ending traffic jam. There are close to nine million motorbikes in the city, they swarm around the streets and take pedestrian crossings and other vehicles as mere suggestions rather than obstacles. I watched them, fascinated, for days and still don’t know how I failed to witness a single accident.
Beyond the bikes, the hills, and even the coffee, the most remarkable thing about Vietnam is the people. Everywhere we went – from the highlands to the heart of the city – we were met with warmth, kindness, and a generosity of spirit that felt almost old-fashioned. People here are not just friendly, but genuinely welcoming: eager to help, to connect, and to make your experience memorable.
And then there’s the food. Vietnam offers a kind of culinary generosity that matches its people. Whether it was a fragrant bowl of pho, a plate of crispy banh xeo folded with herbs, all manner of barbecued meats, or Banh Mi – a crusty baguette filled with pate, cold cuts, pickled vegetables, and cilantro, every meal was vibrant, balanced, and made with care.
I found this corner of Vietnam to be a place of contrast – calm and chaos, simplicity and sophistication – but at every turn, you’re met with a smile, a story, and a dish worth remembering.
