Hoi An, Vietnam

We booked two spots (3.50 euros per person) through GetYourGuide at “Duck Leader”—a small farm where you can feed ducks.

They give you flip-flops so your own shoes don’t get dirty when the ducks are constantly waddling all over them. With Simon’s big feet, it wasn’t easy at all to find a pair of flip-flops that fit even halfway decently.

A staff member showed us how to feed the ducks in the most spectacular way possible and then handed us the bucket—which immediately drew the animals’ attention to us. It was really cute how they waddled around us, searching everywhere for food: the ground, the toe straps of our flip-flops, and, of course, our toes themselves.

The organizers were very nice and enthusiastic guys, and we hadn’t realized the activity was so popular—there were quite a few tourists there. Since everyone had their own time slot, the visitors were well spread out, and it was definitely worth it. The ducks looked healthy and, in my opinion, weren’t too fat.

Afterward, we walked toward the beach and took a short break at a small restaurant. We walk much shorter distances here in Vietnam than in Germany—the heat and, above all, walking along the road is pretty exhausting. The restaurant owner asked us, somewhat surprised, if we’d walked there, since we’d arrived without a taxi or scooter—us exotic types again. It really stands out here when someone is getting around on foot instead of standing by the roadside or sitting on a scooter. The Vietnamese are practically glued to their scooters: when they’re not using them to ride or even to sleep on, they park them on the sidewalk or inside their homes so they’re always within reach.

After that, we walked the last few meters to Coconut Beach. There are nice lounge chairs with umbrellas that can be used all day for 30,000 VND per person—an offer we took advantage of several times over the course of those four weeks. They also serve snacks and drinks, the beach is clean, and the water is clear. There are hardly any tourists, but there’s a beautiful view of the Cham Islands, and you can watch the moored round wicker boats—made of woven coconut leaves—bob merrily on the waves.

It’s really impressive how the locals maneuver these boats—not just with oars, but also with a motor—without constantly spinning in circles. Incidentally, the boats date back to the colonial era: they were invented to avoid the tax on fishing boats imposed by the French colonial rulers.

In the evening, we went out on the town a bit with our neighbor Ben. He’s American and this is his third time in Vietnam. He sold everything he owned in the U.S. and emigrated with just his carry-on luggage and his cat; he now works as a freelancer in the IT and AI sectors.

He took us to Minh’s Kitchen Restaurant, where the food is exceptionally good and you can play with the restaurant’s little dogs on the side.

Afterward, we strolled down the street a bit and admired the lively selection of seafood: shrimp, sea bass, and giant sea snails.

In the evenings, Vietnamese people like to have picnics on mats at the nearby beach, where local dishes like rice porridge with clams or meat are served.

At a mini-market, we stocked up on a few cans of the local Huda beer and rounded out the evening in the lobby of our accommodation.

Over the course of four weeks, Ben showed us many great spots in and around Hoi An. We competed against each other at pool and proved together that none of us should aspire to a career as a professional player. Or we’d eagerly await the arrival of an available Grab driver together (sometimes no driver had accepted the request or had suddenly canceled) and philosophize a lot about AI projects. His cat, Cherokee, also ventured out of the room every now and then to sniff around.

One evening, Ben took us to the Yang Smile Beach Bar, where expats often meet and which is also run by an expat. In addition to Ben’s American friend, we also met a Polish couple and a French woman there. It was very interesting to hear about their various business plans, but also to learn about the challenges these expats face. There was plenty of drinking and even more smoking—yet late in the evening, everyone hopped on their scooters and headed home.

During our time here in Vietnam, we’ve made a point of taking the occasional relaxing day off without any planned sightseeing, because traveling can be a bit exhausting over time. You want to explore as much as possible, but there’s only so much you can take in. We plan to revisit some places just to take the pressure off. From the Philippines, shorter flights will be possible in the future—so you could definitely pop over to Vietnam “on a whim.”

On one of these quiet days, we ended up at a small restaurant near our lodging and enjoyed coffee and lemonade there. The hostess was very enthusiastic and was eager to show us the herbs she’d grown herself—she fed us basil straight from her hand, handed us a lemon tree leaf to smell, and pinned a flower in my hair. The flavors were really intense and delicious, but personally, I’d prefer a little less attention from the host when I’m out to eat. For added entertainment, her seven-year-old daughter—who was seated between us—sang children’s songs for us and practiced her English with us. I was quite relieved when the meal was finally over.

By the way, it often happened that parents sent their children over to us or other tourists to practice a little English. The language is becoming increasingly important for the Vietnamese—both in tourism and when dealing with international business partners. Since 2008, English has been taught nationwide as a required subject starting in third grade.

In general, we’re increasingly struggling with the fact that more and more of our clothes are getting damaged—especially holes in pants and shirts, which we keep having to patch up. I’ve already replaced most of my T-shirts with secondhand ones, and in Hoi An I was able to stock up again: I now have some very pretty tops from Korea and Japan. Unfortunately, my beloved polarized sunglasses from the market in Poland also met their end when one of the arms snapped off. But I found a replacement at Coconut Beach—I hope the new pair lasts just as long.