Tag: Travel

Van – Always Wandering.

This overcast Friday morning was no different. I set out without a destination, trusting Saigon to decide where I should end up. That’s become my favorite way to travel here. The city has a habit of rewarding curiosity.

I wandered into a strange little courtyard anchored by an enormous Starbucks sign. That alone felt odd. In a country overflowing with incredible coffee, I still can’t quite justify Starbucks. But as I walked farther in, the sign faded into the background. Hidden behind it were half a dozen vintage vans serving coffee, tea, pastries, and books. It was less a café than a tiny neighborhood festival.

One van caught my eye: Rong Chơi Coffee.

Later I learned that rong chơi roughly translates to wandering or roaming freely without a specific destination. Well… if that isn’t my life in a nutshell.

The universe definitely knew what it was doing that morning.

A simple cà phê đen đá—straight black iced coffee—for 35,000 VND ($1.33), and I was reminded once again that some of the best experiences in Saigon don’t announce themselves. They wait quietly for you to stumble across them.

Just around the corner from where I’ve been living for months sits Barxiu, tucked away inside an apartment building.

I’d walked past it countless times without ever figuring out how to get upstairs. This week I finally asked someone, got redirected to a different staircase, and suddenly there it was.

Worth every bit of the effort.

I ordered their Dirty Matcha—Vietnamese phin coffee, condensed milk, and matcha. Normally matcha drinks can be overwhelmingly sweet, but this one wasn’t. It balanced the earthiness of the tea with the richness of Vietnamese coffee beautifully. Cozy, eclectic, and one of those cafés that makes you want to linger.

Sometimes all it takes is asking where the stairs are.

One morning I stopped at a tiny neighborhood coffee stand for a 30,000 VND cà phê sữa đá.

I only had 28,000 VND.

Without hesitation they smiled and waved me off.

“I’ll bring the other 2,000 next time,” I thought to myself.

*I dropped it off two days later. They were surprised because they didn’t expect it.

As I sat outside in one of those familiar little red plastic chairs, the family’s front doors stood wide open while they moved effortlessly between their living room and coffee cart. On the television Belgium was playing the United States in the World Cup.

One of this week’s highlights was discovering S’Mores Saigon, where I had a NEL drip coffee.

If you’ve never had one, a NEL drip uses a flannel cloth filter—a technique with French roots that was later perfected in Japan before eventually finding its way into old Saigon cafés. The result is unlike any other black coffee I’ve had.

Silky.

Clean.

Almost elegant.

Apparently it was once considered coffee for Vietnam’s elite.

I understand why.

It’s less like drinking coffee and more like drinking a philosophy.

Tách Tách, another café inside the old mint green apartment building on Nguyễn Văn Tráng.

Their drink was called “Love You So Matcha.”

Japanese Uji matcha, oat milk, condensed milk, a touch of syrup…

Mildly sweet with no bitterness.

Exactly how I move through life these days.

Room 44, a salted caramel latte. It is tucked inside the same mint green old apartment complex. There is something about climbing those worn staircases that always feels like entering another version of Saigon.

At The Simple Café, I tried their Grape Chill Cold Brew.

Imagine sweet grape juice somehow deciding it wanted to become coffee.

Or maybe coffee deciding it wanted to become grape juice.

Odd?

Absolutely.

Worth trying?

Definitely.

Then there was Cà Phê Ông and their bamboo coconut coffee served in—you guessed it—a bamboo cup. A bamboo straw. Cool souvenirs. Refreshing, tropical, and exactly what you want on a humid Saigon afternoon. I met two new friends and rather than read my book, a daily ritual, I had a lovely conversation with them.

Mon Ami Café, a French-inspired spot where a simple cà phê đen đá reminded me that sometimes the classics don’t need improving. And I really need to lay off the condensed milk…

Nine coffees.

Nine different stories.

Some hidden behind apartment staircases.

Some tucked into family homes.

Some discovered only because I decided to wander without a plan.

July 2026