Family Summer Holiday in Phong Nha: Caves, Rivers, Forests and Countryside

I did not choose Phong Nha for our family summer holiday straight away.

There are five of us: my husband, our three children and me. I work in an office, spending most of the year with computers, paperwork, phone calls and messages. My husband is busy too. The children had just finished a long school year filled with lessons, exams, extra classes, phones, television and tablets. We live under the same roof, yet on many days we only meet briefly over dinner.

When summer arrived, I felt we needed to go somewhere for a few days. Not for check-in photos, and not because we wanted to travel far just for the sake of it. I simply wanted my family to step away from our usual routine for a while. I wanted the children to run around outdoors, and I wanted my husband and me to have a few evenings without opening our laptops after dinner.

A week-long holiday is not short. Choosing the wrong place could make the whole family tired. I began weighing up every small detail: where to sleep, whether food would be convenient, what the children could do, whether the weather would be too hot, whether the journey would be tiring, and whether the adults could truly rest.

Then Phong Nha appeared on my list. At first, I thought Phong Nha was probably just about caves. But the more I looked, the more I felt it suited my family. There were caves, rivers, streams and forests. There were places for the children to be active, and places for adults to sit quietly. It was neither too noisy nor too dull. After asking friends, looking at photos and reading reviews, I decided: this summer, we would go to Phong Nha.

Arriving in Phong Nha

On the first day, I still remember the moment our car began passing fields and limestone mountains. At first, the children were still holding their phones. A little later, the eldest looked up and asked, “Mum, are those mountains?” The younger one pointed out of the window, excited to see cows in the field.

Phong Nha does not impress you with noise or brightness. It slowly appears. A green river. A village road. Mountains in the distance. An afternoon breeze passing through the veranda.

We stayed at a homestay by the river. It was not luxurious or elaborate, but it was just comfortable enough. There was a veranda to sit on, river breeze passing through, quiet water in the morning, and the sound of insects in the garden at night.

In the city, my mornings usually begin with my phone, messages, emails and work schedules. In Phong Nha, on our first morning, I woke up earlier than everyone else and sat on the veranda, looking at the river. A small boat drifted slowly past. The mountains stood quietly in the distance. It had been a long time since I had felt a morning pass so slowly.

Taking a boat into the mountain

The first place we visited was Phong Nha Cave. What I remember most was not the stalactites, but the journey into the cave.

The small boat moved quietly along the Son River. On both sides were limestone mountains and small houses by the riverbank. At first, the children were chatting. But as we came closer to the cave entrance, the whole family naturally became quiet.

As the boat went deeper, the light outside slowly faded behind us. The boatman turned off the engine. All that remained was the gentle sound of water touching the side of the boat.

It was not only cool, and it was not only beautiful. It was a strange kind of stillness, as if the mountain had been there for a very long time, and we were only passing through for a brief moment.

The youngest asked softly, “Mum, why is it dark in here but still beautiful?” I smiled. Some questions from children do not need to be answered straight away. Sometimes, it is enough to let them look a little longer.

Silence inside Paradise Cave

On the day we visited Paradise Cave, we had to walk for a while under the trees. It was still hot, of course, because this was summer in Central Vietnam. But the closer we came to the cave entrance, the softer the air became. When we stepped inside, the children fell silent. So did I.

Some things look familiar in photos, yet feel completely different when you stand before them. Huge stalactites, dim light, deep and open space. At some points, I had to tilt my head back for a long time just to take in the ceiling above.

I noticed the children walking more slowly than usual. At home, they are easily distracted. But that day, they kept looking carefully and asking questions: “How old is this?”, “Did water make the rock, Mum?”, “Why is it so cool in here?”

I could not answer everything. But I liked the fact that they were asking. Perhaps a good journey does not have to teach children anything grand. Sometimes, making them curious again is already enough.

A day of water and mud

Then there was a day when almost everything revolved around water. In the morning, we visited Mooc Spring. In the afternoon, we went to Chay River – Dark Cave.

The water at Mooc Spring had a very unusual shade of green. It was not the green of the sea, nor the green of a lake. It was so clear that we could see the stones at the bottom. The children changed quickly, rushed into the water and laughed out loud.

I sat and watched them, and suddenly felt a little moved. All year, they had been moving between school, home and extra classes. Adults often think children today have everything, but in truth they lack so many open spaces to run, get wet, get dirty and laugh freely.

At Chay River – Dark Cave, I was a little hesitant at first, thinking it might be too active. But it turned out to be the place where the whole family laughed the most. The children loved the kayaking, the water and the feeling of doing something different from everyday life.

By the time we entered Dark Cave, everyone was covered in mud. From head to toe, no one looked clean anymore. Strangely, no one minded. Everyone just laughed.

There are moments of joy that do not need to look beautiful. No perfect clothes, no perfect photos. Just the family doing something natural together, and laughing together.

Walking slowly through the forest

After several days of caves, water and boat rides, we chose a gentler day at the Botanical Garden and Ozo.

The trail in the Botanical Garden was not too difficult, but with children every small section became a story: an unusual leaf, a butterfly, a bird call, an old tree trunk.

I liked the smell of the forest there. The smell of fallen leaves, damp soil and old trees. Some things cannot be captured by a phone camera. Only when you stand there, listening to the forest and watching light fall through the leaves, do you understand why nature can make people feel calm again.

Ozo gave our family a different feeling. Wooden bridges winding through the forest, elevated walkways, the sound of leaves and wind, and the children running ahead. They loved walking among the trees. I loved the quiet moments, sitting still and listening to water and forest sounds blending together. No phone. No plans. Just sitting there was enough.

A day back in the rice fields

Another day, we visited Tang Duck Farm. At first, I thought it was mainly for children. In the end, the adults enjoyed it just as much.

Crossing a monkey bridge, wading through mud, catching ducks. The games were very simple. No machines, no bright lights, no loud music. Just water, mud, fields, ducks and laughter.

For our generation, these things are not unfamiliar. But for our children, they felt like another world. I watched them wade through the mud, slip, get up, and laugh again. At times, it felt as if I was seeing a small part of my own childhood returning.

Those games are close to Vietnam’s wet-rice culture in a very natural way. There is no need to explain too much. Children step into the mud, touch the water and watch the ducks running ahead of them. Somehow, they understand that beyond books and screens, there is another kind of life.

Returning home

On the afternoon we left Phong Nha, the car moved slowly past the Son River. A few days earlier, on the same road, we had been excitedly talking about where to go, what to eat and where to stay. Now, just like that, it was time to go home.

The children were tired after a week of roaming around. One held a small backpack brought from home. The eldest looked through the photos on the phone. I asked casually, “What did you like most?” Each child gave a different answer. One liked the caves. One liked swimming in the spring. One liked kayaking. Another liked catching ducks.

As for me, what I remembered most was not one particular place. I remembered the mornings by the river, the children’s laughter by the water, the long dinners when no one hurried to leave, and the feeling of having my phone somewhere in my bag without wanting to open it.

Some trips leave people with beautiful scenery. Some leave them with photographs. For me, what remained after that week was the feeling that my family had truly been together.

As the car left Phong Nha, the youngest turned to me and asked, “Mum, can we come back next year?” I looked out at the river slowly falling behind us. Somehow, that question felt like enough for the whole journey.

Thuy Trang