Why Vietnam is the Best Place to Go on Your First Bikepacking trip

I’d been dreaming about going on a bikepacking trip for a while. At first, my vision was to start here in New Zealand, where I’m currently based. But getting into bikepacking here felt overwhelming and expensive. You need all the gear, the bags, the tent, the sleeping mat… it’s a steep price tag when you’re just starting out.

Meanwhile, Vietnam had been calling me for a while. My aha moment came in the most unexpected way — when I chipped a tooth that was already in need of a crown. I realized it would actually be cheaper to travel to Vietnam, get the dental work done there, and still explore the country, than to get the same work done in New Zealand. So, I booked myself a one-way ticket.

I landed in Ho Chi Minh City the day before my 29th birthday, spent my birthday in the Mekong Delta, and met other travelers making their way through the country by bus. I took one bus to get there packed, hot, winding roads and immediately knew that wasn’t how I wanted to see Vietnam.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’d always wanted to cycle the Ha Giang Loop in the far north. But what if… I cycled the whole country? The idea terrified me. I didn’t know anyone who had done it, I couldn’t find much online about people bikepacking Vietnam, and I had exactly zero mechanical knowledge. But the thought of seeing this country on two wheels just wouldn’t leave me.

Finding the Bike

I spent days scouring shops and Facebook Marketplace in Ho Chi Minh City. My dream was a gravel bike, but I quickly learned that popular brands were just as expensive in Vietnam as they were in New Zealand. That wasn’t an option.

Eventually, I found a small local shop selling no-frills mountain bikes the kind of quality you’d expect from Decathlon in Europe or Walmart in North America. Nothing special, but as someone reminded me along the way, all bikes are good bikes. I bought a 27.5-inch mountain bike with basic components for about $200 CAD, picked up a cheap bikepacking bag, some spare tubes, and a pump from Decathlon, and strapped my backpack to the rear rack with bungee cords.

I didn’t know how to fix a flat. I didn’t even know how to properly adjust my gears. But I had a bike, a direction — north — and the stubbornness to make it work.

Why Vietnam is Perfect for First-Time Bikepackers

From the very first day, I realized how beginner-friendly Vietnam is for a trip like this even for a solo female traveler.

• Guesthouses are everywhere. I never needed camping gear. Every town even small villages had inexpensive, clean guesthouses.

• Help is always nearby. I had around ten flats, but I only fixed two myself. Most of the time, locals would flag me down before I even had time to worry, taking me straight to a mechanic. Sometimes they’d replace my tube, sometimes just patch for as little as $1 CAD.

• It’s safe. I never felt unsafe on the road. Drivers are used to motorbikes, so bicycles fit naturally into the traffic flow. And as a woman traveling alone, I was met with nothing but kindness.

One of my favorite memories was getting a flat at the top of a remote mountain pass, 20 km from the nearest town, just hours before sunset. Two men on a motorbike stopped, insisted I hop on the back, and wheeled my bike alongside as they drove me to the nearest mechanic refusing to accept any payment.

Another time, a woman saw me walking through town looking for help, brought me to a mechanic, paid for my repair, invited me to her home, fed me dinner and breakfast, and spent the evening chatting through Google Translate. She didn’t speak a word of English, and I don’t speak Vietnamese, but the connection was unforgettable.

The Ride North

I started in the humid, sweltering south in mid-March, slowly working my way toward cooler mountain climates. My plan was simple: wake up, choose a destination further north, and ride until I got there… or until the heat told me to stop.

Some days I covered 80–120 km, with my longest day just shy of 160 km. I discovered I preferred climbing mountain passes over riding endless flat roads if only for the joy of the descents on the other side.

Reaching Hoi An after 13 consecutive days of riding felt like a milestone. It’s the halfway point between Ho Chi Minh and Hanoi, and it gave me a welcome few days to rest, recharge, and eat all the vegetarian food I’d been missing in the more remote areas. But before long, I was back on the road, chasing the mountains again.

By the time I reached Hanoi, I’d covered around 2,000 km with over 20,000 m of climbing. I’d been tempted to take a bus for the last stretch more than once but that stubbornness in me wouldn’t let me.

The Ha Giang Loop

I took one bus: from Hanoi to Cao Bang, skipping a section I wasn’t excited about so I could spend more time in the far north. From there, I cycled the mountainous Cao Bang Loop, worked my way west, and finally reached the Ha Giang Loop.

It was everything I’d hoped for endless climbs, breathtaking descents, remote villages, and locals cheering me on from the roadside. Every passing motorbike that gave me a thumbs up, applause or made the gesture for strong gave me the encouragement to keep going.

Even my $200 bike held up surprisingly well, though it started showing its limits in the remote north. At one point my freewheel stopped spinning, and I had to troubleshoot in the heat on the side of the road. Somehow, I got it working again and finished the trip without a single major breakdown.

Lessons from the Road

• You don’t need perfect gear to start, you just need to start.

• Vietnam’s infrastructure for motorbikes makes it equally great for bicycles.

• The people are incredibly generous and helpful, especially if you’re struggling.

• The wild dogs in rural villages are probably the scariest part of the trip (packs of them, not a fan).

• You will sweat, a lot but it’s worth it for the landscapes, the freedom, and the feeling of self-reliance.

I left with doubts, and came back stronger, more confident, and more in love with this way of traveling. This trip taught me I can do anything I set my mind to. Now, there’s no other way I want to see the world than from the saddle of a bicycle which is exactly why I’m already planning my next big ride.