We arrived from Cat Ba island on Saturday evening, and by early Monday morning, we were on our way to Pu Luong. We had planned to fit our side trips early in our stay, before the Christmas and New Year season began, and we were happy to escape Hanoi’s heavy pollution for a few more days in the mountains.
We have arranged a shared transfer through our homestay in Pu Luong. The shuttle cost was 250,000 VND (~13 CAD) per person one way.
The Journey to Pu Luong
Our adventure started with a 5 a.m. wake-up to catch a shuttle van at 6:30. The ride was long, busy with traffic for the first couple of hours, and then the familiar, not very exciting urban landscape began to change.
First, we saw limestone cliffs half dug out, and next to them, many places where intricately cut stone “mountains” were for sale—clearly descendants of those cliffs. As the road began to climb, roadside stalls selling bags of jicama and oranges appeared, a clear sign that we had entered a cooler climate.
The journey took more than four hours, but finally, after a series of switchbacks, we arrived in the Pu Luong mountains.
First Impressions of the Homestay
The road was built into the mountainside, with very few dwellings along it. Most buildings were either up in the terraced hills or down in the valley, connected by small paths climbing steeply up or down.
We were the last passengers to be dropped off, as our homestay, Pù Luông Cuisine Garden Homestay, was the farthest up the road.
From the first glance, we knew we had found something special. Little bamboo huts with palm leaf roofs stood on stilts, scattered up the hillside and half hidden in the garden.
Our hut was basic but charming, with a large glass wall opening to a tiny balcony and, most importantly, a private bathroom. From the balcony we could see other huts surrounded by bamboo groves, and behind them the misty silhouettes of the mountains.
We initially booked one night through Booking.com for 595,000 VND (~31 CAD), but after arriving, we extended our stay for two more nights directly with the owner at 450,000 VND (~24 CAD) per night. Breakfast was included in the price.
The homestay was not named Cuisine Garden for nothing. It had an open restaurant and pretty good food. We tried eating in another restaurant during our stay but decided that ours was much better.
First Walk in Pu Luong
After a good lunch, we were ready to explore.
As there was not much daylight left, our host suggested we walk up the main road and then turn onto a loop road leading up the mountain and passing terraced fields.
Walking along the road was easy, with very little traffic—just the occasional motorcycle passing by. It was a welcome change from Hanoi’s road madness.
Then we turned uphill, and I hadn’t expected how steep the road would be. It kept going up and up—our first taste of what was to come on this trip.
As a small reward, we came across low trees covered in tiny wild kumquats. They were sour but a welcome refreshment as we walked back among the terraced rice paddies. Even after the harvest, the fields were alive with labor—farmers repairing and strengthening paddy walls.
We returned before dark, already realizing that hiking here would be very different from what we were used to. As darkness fell and the distant mountains disappeared from view, the road traffic quieted down, and the silence became almost tangible. After Hanoi, it felt completely unreal—the mountains seemed to absorb all sound, leaving only faint voices and the occasional rustle in the distance.
The Homestay Dogs
The homestay had four dogs—two older ones and two puppies—and they quickly became part of our daily life.
That evening, we watched an amusing scene: the smallest puppy had somehow acquired a huge piece of bacon and was fiercely guarding it, growling at the others, even the bigger dogs, until he finished with it. Despite his size, he clearly wasn’t willing to share.
One of the older dogs took on a different role and seemed to appoint itself as our guide, often escorting us along the road when we set out for a hike, trotting ahead for quite some distance before eventually turning back.
Hiking to Kho Muong
Here’s the route we followed from our homestay to Kho Muong cave and back.
Click on the map to view full size.
Through Fog and Fields
We woke up to no sunrise: the mountains were half-hidden in a mist. By the time we went down for breakfast, they had almost disappeared in the fog, and a light drizzle had started. Still, we were determined to set out to Kho Mường village as we had planned yesterday. Thankfully, the drizzle stopped soon, but the mountains remained shrouded in mist as we began our walk.
At first, we walked along a trail through small hamlets with traditional stilt houses and rice paddies. Our timing was not the best to see the terraces at their peak—the rice had been harvested in October, and now in December the paddies were empty pools of muddy water.
Even with empty paddies, the terraces carved into the hillsides were impressive, framed by mist-shrouded mountains in the distance. They are a remarkable example of agricultural engineering, with a complicated system of pipes and canals bringing water to the fields.
Walking through them, gazing at distant mountains shrouded in wispy clouds, and listening to the endless trickling of water, I found myself thinking about how much effort it takes to grow rice here.
Farmers stood knee-deep in the water, cleaning the paddies and adding more mud to strengthen the low walls. All of it is manual labor—a reminder that I will never take rice for granted again.
Descent into Kho Muong Village
Our trail brought us to a road with a traditional entrance gate leading to Kho Muong village. A sign read “no cars,” and we soon discovered why. The road narrowed and plunged steeply down through a series of switchbacks.
As we descended, the views opened up—mountains and valleys stretching out in every direction. We were happy to be walking down; I am sure that trudging up this steep road would have quickly robbed us of any sightseeing joy.
Suddenly, Kho Muong village came into view, surrounded by flowing water and flat fields.
Eventually, we made our way into the village. Judging by how enthusiastically we were greeted by the locals, it was clear we had wandered off the beaten path.
It was a tiny, sleepy settlement where the population of ducks vastly outnumbered the people.
I have never seen so many ducks in one place.
Ducks of all ages and colors were frolicking in the water, noisily moving from one paddy to another and clearly having a grand time.
With so much muddy water around, it must be a paradise for them.
Kho Muong Cave
After crossing a stream over a small bridge, we reached our main destination—the Kho Mường cave.
A long staircase led halfway down before giving way to uneven steps carved into the rock. As we carefully made our way down the slippery stones, the formations grew larger and larger until they towered above us.
We have visited many large and beautiful caves, but this one still impressed us. Imagine a vast opening in a mountain, big enough to house a cathedral, with huge rock formations instead of spires and towers.
Even at this depth, there was still dim natural light from the enormous entrance.
We wandered among these rocky shapes in awe until they suddenly opened onto a vast reddish plateau, partially hidden in darkness, reminiscent of a Martian landscape.
Curious, and with a headlight, we continued. After some scrambling over rocks, we reached the bottom, where a massive column stood before us, sparkling in the beam of our light like a waterfall turned to stone. Beautiful.
We spent some time there, completely alone, before making our way back to the surface.
Lunch… or Something Like It
Valery wanted to check the view from above, so we climbed a steep trail near the cave, took in the valley, and then returned to the village.
It was time for lunch. We wandered through the village, dodging ducks and dogs, trying to find somewhere to eat, but it was not easy. Google Maps was useless, but with Google Translate we were eventually pointed to a café.
Even then, ordering food was a challenge. We asked for an omelet with vegetables—three eggs each.
After a long wait, we were given a tiny plate of steamed vegetables and only three small boiled eggs in total.
At that point, we gave up, divided this meager portion between us, and started back, already dreaming about a proper dinner.
The Long Walk Back
To avoid the steep climb back up, we took a different path. Along the way, we saw cassava roots being harvested. Large bags filled with roots were lining the road in many places—apparently, it is an important crop for the local population.
There was more climbing down and then up on steep village roads before we finally got home, our legs barely working anymore. Our three boiled eggs for lunch were a distant memory by then, so the homestay’s tasty supper was very welcome.
We were completely exhausted—truly dog tired and ready for an early turn in.
Judging by the way the homestay dogs were sprawled out asleep in every direction, we were not the only ones—they had clearly beaten us to it.
Still, despite our tired legs, we had thoroughly enjoyed the hike and were already looking forward to exploring more of Pu Luong. Our journey would take us deeper into the valley, toward Ban Don and the hidden villages beyond.
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