Day 14: The Northernmost Place in Vietnam

• From – To: Thai Tam Motel – Lung Cu Flag Point – Thai Tam Motel

• Distance: 50,6 km, 1:40h (į abi puses)

• Routes: QL4C – DT182B – D CC QG ir atgal

• Accommodation: Thai Tam Motel, King Room with A/C 12 Eur per night, no breakfast (second night)

My objective for the day was to reach Lung Cu – the northernmost town in Vietnam, where the country's largest flag is hoisted. This flag spans 54 square meters, symbolically representing Vietnam's 54 ethnic groups. Climbing the pulse-quickening stone steps leads to a 33-meter-high tower with an observation platform beneath the flag. From atop, you are greeted with the customary Vietnamese spectacle of a stunning, wide-ranging natural panorama. A few kilometers to the north lies China, visible from a broad concrete highway on the Vietnamese side. This road ends as abruptly as it starts, resembling an outstretched hand towards China. Unfortunately, the Chinese haven't extended their hand in return, making the highway seem like a blunt waste of money (or misappropriation). I inquired with local tourists about the abrupt end of the highway. They explained the lack of friendly relations between Vietnam and China, citing territorial and other disputes. This also answered my earlier query about the absence of Chinese cars in Vietnam, where only Korean and Japanese models are common.

After a less-than-warm wave to the Chinese across the border, I made my way back to Dong Van. The journey was marvelous, not just for the road quality but also for the scenic vistas. The route involved circumnavigating two impressive valleys, winding along a high mountain ridge, and marveling once more at the undulating karst hills that stretch endlessly in every direction.

In Dong Van, I took a stroll. The main street, bustling with heavy traffic and dust clouds from trucks, offered little appeal. However, the center boasts a charmingly restored (or newly built) old town quarter with a square surrounded by numerous open-air restaurants. Here, tourists and locals alike gather around hot pots (Lau), sipping beer and coffee and nibbling on snacks. It's a vibrant, appealing spot, though perhaps a tad too touristic. With that thought, I ventured beyond the old town, not expecting much, and stumbled upon an authentic Vietnamese market. Beyond the typical market fare, the stalls were laden with an abundance of fruits and vegetables. I found a shaded nook filled with the sounds of slurping Pho Bo and sizzling. Such spots are off the beaten path for tourists and frequented primarily by locals. This signaled that I was in for the best Pho Bo experience. And indeed, for 30K VND (about 1.20 EUR), I received a hefty serving – nearly a liter of broth and a kilogram of rice noodles with beef, greens, and soy sprouts. It was an impossible amount to finish! I always advise that the best Pho Bo is found in the simplest places among locals – it’s tasty, abundant, and affordable. In Vilnius, a much smaller bowl of Pho Bo costs 9 EUR, but here, it's only 1.20 EUR.

Back at the hotel, I read a book and jotted down some thoughts inspired by my Pho Bo experience at the market. Suddenly, I felt a strong desire to socialize with anyone – to join locals at a Lau or engage in casual conversation with tourists. Heading out into the city again, I roamed for an hour but found no one to interact with. Everyone seemed either deeply engrossed in their own groups or too exhausted, their eyes lacking spark, seemingly ready for bed rather than conversation. This journey in Vietnam was my first solo adventure. Up to this point, I never felt lonely – whether it was dining with a guesthouse family or chatting with fellow tourists. But now, there was a void. I longed to converse, inquire, and share, but there was no one to engage with. What was happening? I hoped a 1.5-hour massage might alleviate the feeling. It was mediocre, neither particularly good nor bad. Returning to the hotel, I was still enveloped in solitude. I turned on Netflix on my phone, watched a movie, and tossed restlessly in bed.

In the morning, my Sleep Cycle app showed that I had lain in bed for 7 hours but only managed 3.5 hours of sleep. I was puzzled about what had transpired. Could there be a virus that causes a 12-hour loneliness symptom? Or is this simply a part of solo traveling? As I sipped my morning coffee, I realized how much I missed my family and friends back in Lithuania. Solo traveling is inherently selfish – you leave everyone behind. That sense of loneliness, it appears, comes from within.