My sister Ali and I both crave the backpacking experience that would take us as far from home as possible, literally and figuratively. Our first destination is Laos, a small country nearly destroyed when caught in the crossfire of the Vietnam War.
Just outside the rainy town of Luang Namtha, we trek through wet, canopied forest to the small Hmong village where we’ll spend the night. We share the path with some locals.
Our warm welcome to this village comes from a group of children who invite us to join in their game of soccer. Some of them pose tough for my camera.
Write your story here. (Optional)
Ali’s friend Malachi has joined our trip. On our first sweltering morning in Vietnam’s capital, we stumble upon a group of middle-aged women performing a choreographed dance to Ciara’s classic “1,2 Step”.
Hanoi’s vibrant and eccentric spirit may be even better captured by a visit to Ho Chi Minh’s Mausoleum. Hundreds wait in a line that snakes around city blocks in order to pay their respects to the preserved, waxy body of the legendary Prime Minister. Although he rests behind a glass tomb, his guards are adamant that visitors maintain a brisk pace and taut posture while while walking through the mausoleum. Reportedly, he is shipped yearly to Russia for undisclosed bodily maintenance.
Ali, Malachi and I hop aboard a one-night cruise in the nearby Halong Bay, Vietnam’s coastal barrier of steep limestone mountains jutting out from the sea. Ha long, literally “descending dragon”, refers to the myth of a winged beast who created these craggy islands to defend the Vietnamese from enemy battleships.
As our boat slowly creeps between these formations and deeper into a thick cloud of fog, I can’t help but sense a looming, powerful presence.
We embark on a 4-day trek in the Sapa region of Vietnam’s Northern Highlands. Traversing Sapa’s dirt roads and trails, we’re often afforded a near bird’s-eye-view of the cascading rice terraces. They appear from a distance as staircases for a giant to leisurely walk up the mountain side.
Tiny villages of a variety of ethnic minorities sprinkle the Sapa region. At night, one family hosts us in their home, and we all silently enjoy (but don’t necessarily understand) a Vietnamese-dubbed Korean soap opera.
The breathtaking city of temples in Cambodia holds a special place in my imagination. Wandering through the ruins, I feel as though I’m in the courtyard of a lavish ancient palace that has been conquered and sacked by a powerful empire…
…and yet, Angkor Wat isn’t ancient at all (though it’s a few hundred years old). And its deterioration isn’t caused by any great siege or battle, but rather by neglect and the commanding forces of nature. As Angkor Wat was once carved out of the jungle as an oasis of human civilization, it appears that the jungle wastes no time taking it back.
Of course, Cambodia is carefully maintaining and restoring Angkor Wat; you can see recently-added support beams in most structures and scaffolding all over the ruins. I turn my thoughts to the thousands of people who spent their lives building these temples and carving intricate stories into their walls. Of this work, what will still stand here in another few hundred years?
As tourists, we decide to get our photos taken before leaving Angkor Wat. Pictured from left to right: Ali, Malachi, and myself.
© 2026 Brennan Barsell