I woke up today with the sun blaring through the thick white shades of my room. My room is oriented east, I realized then. It is pretty rare for the sun to be out so vividly in the morning, for the mountains get shrouded in clouds so easily and rain becomes a constant. Though this morning, the sun woke me up. It woke me up despite my facemask, as it was not fully centered around my eyes after a night of tossing and turning. It’s okay. Its job is mainly helping me fall asleep first with the way it pushes on my skull, soothing me so much. I often wonder if there’s something deeper there, and I’m left wondering if there are ways to have more frequent head stimulation throughout the day…

The sun takes me out of my daydream, and I definitely feel like waking up. I step outside my room towards the gigantic balcony I have the chance of having this month. It is just about 7 a.m., and it is a cooler temperature than those I usually enjoy in Vietnam, and I don’t mind it one tiny bit.

This morning I want to take the road early, I’m starting to figure out the weather patterns here. It feels like nature needs to be enjoyed before 2pm. Every afternoon without fail, the clouds come down darker across the valley and cover the city until night comes. Rains of various intensity fall throughout the whole afternoon. This is the best time to be back sheltered, enjoying the peaceful environment and the comfort of a home. I get ready quickly and finally head out, hoodied up with a buff brushing near my eyes. Today I will drive through roads I don’t know for a time unknown, and I would rather not be any cold. Wearing a face cover while driving a bike makes me feel more secure, the wind doesn’t bother me, and if it’s sunny like this morning, I can add sunglasses to the mix and be really anonymous on the roads (not that I wasn’t already).

I decide to go to a café not so far away from where I stay, its pictures on maps have been super appealing, and I’ve been craving another Vietnamese coffee (it’s an everyday thing, really). The trickiest part of the ride is knowing when to branch away from the main road. There are many options and making a left turn needs to be prepared for. Thus I pull over to the right whenever I sense that I get close. I pull out my phone and think about the time I had a phone holder on my last bike. It is such a good invention and occasionally a depressing one as you see people stopped at a red light doom scrolling while waiting for their time to go. I should turn at the next one on the left, I knew I wasn’t far. It’s time to cross and start to head down the mountain quite steeply.

I’ve asked some good friends how to drive a motorcycle properly down a slope. I got a mix of advice that made me feel moderately safe. I still feel the need to smell the air once in a while to make sure my brakes aren’t on fire just yet. The good thing is that those roads are mostly empty, and I can look up to the side towards the valley while I get to my destination. Ten minutes more down this road, slowly progressing, passing a few houses and other cafés with equally appealing views and arrangements, but I’m set on reaching the one I aimed for originally.

The last 5 minutes felt endless. I always feel like this is it; I’m there, but no, one more turn along the mountain. Finally, I see a sign for the café and parking lot and can turn off the bike and park. I turn the key to the left and take my time, I want to hear the surroundings, take off my helmet and buff, put the keys in my pocket, and dismount. I’ve reached my goal, and it is beautiful. I know that the next few hours will be just me and the café and the trees, and it feels great.

I am reminded of the question a friend asked me the night before. We were discussing my current travels, and I was explaining that I had just arrived in this mountain town. He asked me: “Oh, what are your plans there for the next month?” I was a bit taken aback because I didn’t plan much. I know there is a lot to see around, but I don’t plan to see these things really. Not having a direct answer to this question made me feel bad, as if I wasn’t traveling right, as if I wasn’t extracting as much as I could of my trip. I know this wasn’t the intention behind the question but it really lingered with me, it bothered me.

Arriving at this place, sitting down, and watching the dogs, cats, and trees made me smile. It made me want to find a way to convey that this was my plan. This is why I came to this place: to find environments where I could just be. This was not the fruit of plans, aside from a quick maps search, just the result of a desire with a touch of curiosity. It had been the way I found myself doing well during the last few years of travel: bumping into places I couldn’t have planned to discover, getting lost among trees, and taking the time to sit down.