Finally, my trip to Hoi An, Vietnam, happened—despite the odds. Just a quick recap: from Manila, I landed safely at Tan Son Nhat International Airport in Ho Chi Minh City. It was a red-eye flight, and I was already tired and sleepy. Though the turbulence rattled me a bit, I was relieved we touched down safely.

Vietnam immigration clearance took longer than expected, but I eventually made it through. I withdrew Vietnamese dong—which turned out to be a wise move. The not-so-wise move? I didn’t buy or book a local SIM card. Lesson learned.

I walked over to the domestic terminal and stopped by Highlands Coffee for an early-morning caffeine fix and a banh mi to tide me over. After a few hours of waiting, I boarded my 6 AM VietJet flight to Da Nang. The gloomy skies already hinted at what was coming—a stormy day ahead. What was supposed to be an hour-long flight stretched into an hour and a half due to the weather. But again, I was just grateful we landed safely.

By the time I reached Da Nang, the skies had fully opened up. I was picked up by a driver of a shared shuttle bus from Barri Ann Travels (booked via Klook). The drive to Hoi An took nearly an hour. I thought I was the only passenger, but to my surprise, there was another man quietly seated at the back of the car.

When we arrived, I struggled to find my hostel—it was tucked away down an alley, and I missed the signage while wrestling with my rain-soaked belongings. By the time I reached the front desk, I was almost drenched. Thankfully, the receptionist was incredibly kind and spoke excellent English. She offered me a towel and allowed me to check in early. The female dorm I booked had a private bathroom—clean and cozy.

I tried to sleep, but my excitement (and the pitter-patter of rain) made it impossible. Probably because my body is also adjusting to Indochina time. So I decided to head out and look for food. I stumbled upon a riverside restaurant called Riverside Hoi An – Dolphin Hostel and Bar and ordered prawn noodle soup paired with my first-ever Vietnamese egg coffee. It was delicious, and the staff were warm and welcoming. That’s another treat worth savoring slowly while watching the river flow.

At first, I didn’t plan to explore because of the heavy rain—I just wanted to sit quietly and observe the riverside scene. But my feet had other plans. I found myself wandering into Hoi An’s Old Town. This visit had long been on my travel list, though I had always imagined exploring it on a starry night under glowing lanterns—not in the middle of a downpour.

Still, life has to go on. A bad weather day is beyond human control. What surprised me most was that I wasn’t alone. Dozens of people, umbrellas in hand, were also out walking, soaking wet just like me, still determined to experience Hoi An in their own way.

There’s something quietly magical about exploring a historic town in the rain—lanterns glowing softly under grey skies, reflections shimmering on wet cobblestones, and the comforting rhythm of footsteps and raindrops blending together.

Hoi An’s Old Town must’ve looked like a living watercolor—umbrellas blooming like flowers among yellow walls and moss-covered tiles. Sometimes the rain doesn’t stop the adventure; it just softens the edges, slows things down, and makes me notice more.

I spent about an hour wandering the ancient streets, snapping photos, and admiring the charming cafés, heritage buildings, and Instagram-worthy corners. Before heading back to my hostel, I had seafood fried rice at Golden Rice, a local restaurant near the riverside (VND140,000—not bad at all!).

When I dreamed of Hoi An, I pictured a lantern-lit fairytale—warm lights dancing on the river, streets alive with color, and a peaceful evening stroll under the stars. But life had other plans.

My arrival in Hoi An was greeted not by magic, but by a heavy downpour. Rain poured relentlessly, soaking my clothes and my expectations. The charming alleys I’d longed to explore were flooded. The scenes I imagined were hidden beneath gray skies and stormy winds. It wasn’t the storybook arrival I had hoped for.

But it was real. And it was mine.

The rain didn’t stop that night, and I lay in bed thinking about how the storm tried to ruin my trip—but didn’t. It might not have gone the way I had envisioned, but maybe that’s the point. Sometimes, travel reminds us to embrace the unexpected. Even the most seasoned travelers have off days. Travel is raw and real—that’s what makes it beautiful. Plans unravel, rain falls, I forget to buy a local SIM card, or something small snowballs into frustration. But the fact that I chose to redirect my energy instead of dwelling on the missteps? That’s powerful.

I didn’t just travel to Hoi An—I grew a little more in it. Turning “what went wrong” into “what I learned” or even “what made this moment mine” is how stories get the soul.

My experiences—messy, unpredictable, rain-soaked, beautiful—are what make my voice as a traveler so authentic. 

*** This blog post is a part of my Vietnam-Thailand 2025 Solo Travel series and was drafted while I was resting in my hotel room in Hoi An. The sound of the rain tapping outside because of a storm made me reflect on my first day in the lantern-lit town. I traveled to these countries on June 12-16, 2025. ***