I’d read about Trang An before heading into Vietnam’s Ninh Binh Province.
Limestone mountains. Rice fields. Rivers. Caves. Boats.
Cool.
It sounded beautiful, but Vietnam had already been throwing some fairly ridiculous scenery at me, so I figured I had a decent idea what I was getting into.
I did not.
Trang An is fucking gorgeous.
Not pretty. Not scenic. Not one of those places where travel bloggers strategically photograph the same 11-foot section of river while carefully excluding the parking lot, souvenir stand and family of six fighting over a selfie stick.
This entire place looks ridiculous.
Massive limestone karsts explode vertically out of impossibly green rice fields. Rivers snake between them through narrow valleys. Jungle hangs from cliffs. Tiny temples appear along the shoreline. Then the river casually disappears directly into the side of a mountain because apparently going under the mountain is easier than going around it.
And somehow, your local boat operator is going to row you through all of it.
For hours.
Because leg day is apparently optional in Trang An.
DESTINATION: Trang An
GPS COORDINATES
20.2167, 105.9373
CLOSEST AIRPORT
CURRENT WEATHER
moderate rain (75F / 24C)
AIR QUALITY INDEX (AQI)
Good (6)
WELCOME TO VIETNAM’S MOST BEAUTIFUL ARM WORKOUT
The main way to explore Trang An is by boat.
And when I say boat, don’t picture some motorized tourist barge with padded seats, a minibar and a guy explaining geological formations through a broken microphone.
You’re getting into a small rowboat.
Your engine is a human being.
And that human being is about to paddle your tourist ass through one of the most spectacular landscapes in Vietnam for somewhere around two to three hours.
Watching the operation from shore is almost as impressive as the scenery.
Boat after boat after boat heads onto the water, carrying a seemingly never-ending supply of tourists into the mountains. Meanwhile, the local rowers just keep paddling.
And paddling.
And paddling.
I don’t know what the cardiovascular requirements are for working here, but I assume the job application includes something like: “Please row four adults through Vietnam for three hours. If you survive, orientation begins Monday.”
Meanwhile, I’m sitting there taking pictures and occasionally repositioning my feet, contributing absolutely nothing to the expedition.
Teamwork.
THEN THE LANDSCAPE STARTS SHOWING OFF
Once you’re away from the main dock, Trang An gets spectacular very quickly.
The river becomes glassy and calm as you drift between towering limestone formations covered in vegetation. Rice fields stretch into the valleys. Birds bounce around the shoreline. The noise from the crowds gradually disappears.
Every turn looks like somebody unlocked another level.
There’s a reason people compare Trang An to Ha Long Bay. Both are dominated by enormous limestone karsts that make the landscape look like Mother Nature got drunk and started aggressively using the terrain tool.
But Trang An feels different.
Ha Long Bay is enormous, open and dramatic.
Trang An feels intimate.
You’re down inside the landscape instead of looking across it.
The mountains aren’t somewhere in the distance.
They’re right fucking there.
OH GOOD, WE’RE ROWING INTO A MOUNTAIN
Then your boat approaches what appears to be a small black hole in the limestone.
Surely we’re not going in there.
We are absolutely going in there.
Trang An’s waterways pass directly through a network of natural caves beneath the karst mountains. Your rower ducks slightly, points the boat toward the darkness and casually disappears underground like this is a perfectly normal transportation system.
Some passages are wide.
Others are decidedly less generous.
The ceiling drops low enough in places that suddenly everyone develops an intense interest in posture and skull preservation.
Then, after several minutes underground, daylight appears ahead.
You emerge into another hidden valley surrounded by limestone cliffs.
And the whole ridiculous landscape starts over again.
River.
Rice fields.
Mountains.
Temple.
Cave.
Repeat until your camera battery begins filing complaints.
SOMEHOW PEOPLE HAVE BEEN DOING THIS FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS
The scenery gets most of the attention, but Trang An isn’t just another aggressively photogenic chunk of Vietnam.
Humans have lived around these limestone formations for tens of thousands of years, and archaeological evidence found in the caves shows how early communities adapted to major environmental changes over an enormous stretch of human history.
Later, the natural maze of mountains, caves and waterways became useful for another extremely human activity:
Trying to stop other humans from invading.
The nearby Hoa Lu area became Vietnam’s capital during the Dinh and Early Le dynasties, while the surrounding karst landscape provided a spectacular natural defensive system.
Today, thankfully, considerably fewer invading armies are involved.
Mostly tourists.
Thousands and thousands of tourists.
TEMPLES, BECAUSE YOUR ROWER CLEARLY NEEDED A BREAK
Several routes through Trang An include stops at small temples tucked between the mountains.
You’ll climb out of the boat, wander through the grounds and briefly pretend this isn’t also an opportunity for your rower to regain feeling in their body.
The temples are beautiful, but what makes them special is the setting.
Everything feels isolated.
Mountains rise directly behind the buildings. Water surrounds the valleys. Forest pushes into whatever space civilization hasn’t occupied.
If you want the exact opposite interpretation of “small temple hidden in nature,” nearby Bai Dinh takes a somewhat different approach.
As in: What if we built a Buddhist temple complex roughly the size of Rhode Island?
Okay, slight exaggeration.
But after Trang An’s tiny temples tucked quietly beneath limestone cliffs, Bai Dinh feels absolutely enormous.
Both are worth seeing.
Just for completely different reasons.
AND THEN THERE’S THE VIEW FROM ABOVE
After spending a few hours looking up at Trang An’s mountains, there’s another excellent way to appreciate the landscape.
Look down on it.
Nearby Lying Dragon Mountain (Hang Múa) gives you one of the best elevated views anywhere around Ninh Binh.
There’s just one minor inconvenience.
You have to climb approximately 500 stone steps up a limestone mountain, then navigate a sketchy ridge filled with people attempting to obtain photographic evidence that they, too, have discovered Instagram.
The view from the top is phenomenal.
The influencer traffic jam around the dragon?
Less phenomenal.
Still, seeing the rivers and rice fields from above after floating through them at Trang An gives you an entirely different appreciation for how insane this landscape actually is.
GET OUT OF HANOI
Trang An is close enough to Hanoi that plenty of people visit as a day trip.
Do it.
Hanoi is fantastic chaos. I loved wandering through Hanoi’s Old Quarter, and Train Street remains one of the more entertaining places I’ve ever voluntarily stood near several hundred tons of moving machinery.
But Ninh Binh is the reset button.
The motorbikes disappear.
The buildings disappear.
The horns disappear.
Suddenly you’re sitting in a tiny boat floating through rice fields beneath limestone mountains while someone approximately half your size demonstrates considerably more upper-body endurance than you will ever possess.
It’s difficult not to feel slightly inadequate.
TRANG AN WAS BETTER THAN I EXPECTED
Every once in a while, you visit a place you’ve already seen hundreds of photographs of and discover the photographs somehow undersold it.
Trang An was one of those places.
I expected a nice boat ride through some beautiful Vietnamese countryside.
Instead, I got hours of rivers, caves, temples, rice fields and towering limestone cliffs that made the entire landscape feel almost prehistoric.
The boat ride isn’t just transportation.
It’s the whole fucking experience.
Sit down.
Shut up.
Let someone with apparently unlimited shoulder endurance row you into a mountain.
And enjoy one of the most beautiful places in Vietnam.
