I never expected such a short trip to leave such a deep impression. Yet here I am, many days later, listening to the gentle waves lapping against the hull and the golden sunset on the wooden deck of Viet Sails.
If you are looking for a peaceful, romantic, and truly soul-stirring vacation, here is my entire 2-day-1-night itinerary on Viet Sail — recounted exactly as I experienced it, from the moment I boarded the shuttle bus in Hanoi until saying goodbye at Ha Long Port.
When I planned my solo trip to Vietnam, almost everyone told me to visit Ha Long Bay. But the more I looked into it, the more I felt it wasn’t exactly what I wanted — a bit too crowded, too busy. I still wanted the limestone mountains, the emerald water, just in a quieter way. That’s how Bai Tu Long popped up as the calmer alternative, and eventually how I found Viet Sail.
Before the trip, everything was simple: a backpack, a few notes on my phone, and a last-minute weather check. I booked Viet Sail partly because so many solo travelers said the same thing: “small boat, friendly crew, smooth journey.” They didn’t promise luxury — just comfort and peace, which sounded perfect.
On the morning of arrival, Hanoi was already fully awake. At 8 AM, the streets were crowded — motorbikes everywhere, horns echoing from all directions. I booked the shuttle bus because it was budget-friendly, and honestly, it turned out to be the best option for someone traveling alone. No need to navigate the chaotic traffic or worry about directions.
(If privacy is important, you can always hire a private car, but for solo travelers like me, the shuttle bus was more than enough — comfortable, safe, and easy.)
Leaving the city, the journey becomes gentler. The noise fades into open roads, rice paddies, and the occasional small town. A few quiet hours later, mountains begin to rise in the distance — familiar shapes you’ve seen in photos but always more beautiful in real life.
At the port, the Viet Sail boat is waiting offshore. Wooden, smooth, unpretentious — the kind of boat that makes you breathe a sigh of relief, as if you’ve just stepped into a slower-paced Vietnam.
Stepping onto the Viet Sail Cruise felt strangely familiar, like stepping into a place where you don’t need to impress to feel comfortable. The crew greeted me with enthusiasm – as all Vietnamese seem to do. They explained basic safety rules, showed me around the cabin, and within minutes the boat was gliding out into Bai Tu Long Bay.
The first thing I noticed wasn’t the landscape — it was the silence. Not the absolute kind, but the soft kind where you hear wind, water, and occasionally someone laughing from another deck. Compared to the chaos of Hanoi just a few hours earlier, it felt unreal.
Lunch was served afterwards: a simple Vietnamese menu. Fresh, warm, with plenty of seafood. Before boarding, they had asked me about my vegetarian diet so they could prepare it better, I told them I couldn’t eat some seafood, and they prepared another meal for me. I was quite satisfied with the meal, although Vietnamese food was a little bland for me.
By mid-afternoon, we were near Cap La. I picked up a kayak and paddled out on my own. Kayaking alone among the limestone pillars felt like sneaking into a secret place – quiet coves, calm water, impossibly perfect reflections. At times I stopped paddling to drift and let the boat drift. No schedule, no noise, just me and the cliffs.
Back on the boat, the sunset party began – tea, coffee, fruit, and the sky slowly changing colors. The cooking class was not staged or touristy; we simply learned how to roll fresh spring rolls while the sun set behind the limestone mountains. My spring rolls looked terrible, but they tasted good, so I counted them as a win.
Dinner was warm, quiet, and somewhat cozy for a cruise in the middle of the bay. Later that evening, I joined the crew in squid fishing. I didn’t catch anything, but one of the crew did and handed me the rod as if I had a share in it. We laughed about it for a while.
Before bed, I went up on deck to the stars – gazing . The bay was dark, save for a few small boats in the distance. The air was cool, the water was calm, and for a moment, I felt like the place was all mine.
It’s funny how quickly peace can come when you’re on the right boat.
The next morning came gently. I woke earlier than usual, not because of the alarm clock, but because of the light filtering through the curtains. Breakfast was simple – eggs, toast, fruit – but somehow everything tasted better with the surrounding limestone cliffs.
Our last stop was Thien Canh Son Cave. I’m not usually a “cave person”, but this one felt different. The path up to the cave was short, just a few steps, and the inside was cool and strangely peaceful. The ceiling shimmered a little when the light hit, and from the cave entrance you could see the entire bay below. I stayed there longer than I intended, just watching the boats drift by as if they had nowhere in particular to go.
Back on the boat, we started heading towards the harbor. That part of any trip is always the same – the quiet packing up, the final walk around the deck, the quiet feeling of knowing something is about to end. The crew serves a late breakfast as the boat glides through the end of the bay. I try to memorize the shapes of the cliffs, knowing they will look different in photos later.
The disembarkation went more smoothly than I expected. A brief goodbye, a few smiles, and suddenly I am back on land with my backpack on my back. The shuttle bus ride back to Hanoi feels almost symbolic – back to normal life after 24 hours that were anything but normal.
I didn’t have any life-changing or apocalyptic moments. But there’s something about the quiet of Bai Tu Long, the slowness of the boat, the warmth of the crew, that makes the trip… pleasant in a very simple way.
If I ever get the chance to return to North Vietnam, I know exactly which bay – and which boat – I’ll choose.
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