Ho Chi Minh City Day 2 This was the day work stopped feeling abstract. Not because I was teaching yet, but because that morning would be spent signing documents and beginning the process (or at least attempting to) of opening a bank account, completing a health check, and sorting the police check. A deceptively simple list. It wasn’t just acclimatising to a new job though,  it was also acclimatising to a new country, and to the particular scale of a city like this, coupled wi

At 28, my life wasn’t perfect, far from it. That’s partly why I made such a huge move to Vietnam in the first place. But in many ways, I’d already reached a quiet sense of self-actualisation. As a chef, I’d come to a place of contentment with my skills. There were, and always will be, things to learn, but I no longer felt held back. I’d run my own business, something I’d dreamed of for years, and I’d closed it feeling at peace with what I’d achieved and with the decision itse

On moving from the UK to Vietnam, where things first appear chaotic, but slowly begin to make sense. Moving to a new country is a bit like stepping into unfamiliar traffic. At first, everything looks chaotic. The rules seem unclear, people move in ways you wouldn’t expect, and you’re not quite sure when it’s your turn to cross. But slowly, you start to realise there is a system — just not the one you’re used to. One of the things I didn’t expect to notice so quickly in Vietna

Slippery cobbles, seaside escapes, and the best pizza I’ve ever had. In the Uber from the station to my hostel, my driver — eager to practise his English — described Lisbon and Porto in a way that stuck with me.Porto, he said, looked like it had been made by the hand of God, while Lisbon looked like it had been made by the hand of man. He was right. Lisbon immediately felt vast — almost like Porto times ten. The traffic was constant, the noise relentless, and the streets crow

Day 1 – Arrival & First Impressions The Late-Night Hunt for Food After a long day of travel and a late arrival, most people might have given in to room service — but I was determined to start strong. I’d already checked the Time Out Market’s opening hours (10 a.m.–midnight!) and it was just a ten-minute walk from my hotel. On the way, I stopped at a tiny corner shop to grab shampoo and conditioner — or so I thought. Back in my room, I realised I’d actually bought two differe