With a coastline that stretches – in a big, sandy ‘S’ shape – for over 3200 kilometres, it’s not surprising that Vietnam boasts so many beautiful beaches. From Nha Trang and Mui Ne and Phu Quoc Island, here’s our pick of the best. Don’t forget to pack your swimmers!
1. Nha Trang
First up among the best beaches in Vietnam is a perennial favourite. Known as the Vietnamese Riviera, Nha Trang – a busy beach area in the Khanh Hoa province – is renowned for its six-mile stretch of white-sand beach, clear waters and popular party boat cruises.
Doc Let Beach near Nha Trang, but without the hordes of other travellers.
As well as being home to Vietnam’s first certified dive centre (Rainbow Divers) and subsequently many soft coral reefs and caves to explore underwater, there’s also wakeboarding, kite surfing and banana boat rides for beach bums to try their hand at.
Meanwhile for the land lubbers among us, there are plenty of resorts and bars near City Beach that make a mean beachside cocktail.
But if you’d rather forgo the buzzing crowds here, travel 34 kilometres north to Doc Let Beach. It’s just as blindingly beautiful as Nha Trang, but without the hordes of other travellers who know they’re onto a good thing.
2. Bai Sao, Phu Quoc
Located in the Gulf of Thailand off Vietnam’s south-west coast, Phu Quoc is actually closer to Cambodia than Vietnam, being just 18 kilometres from Kampot province.
Famed for allegedly having the whitest sand in the country and some of the best sunsets around, it is undoubtedly one of Vietnam’s most picturesque islands. There’s many idyllic beaches here to get your sun-and-sea fix, each with its own character, but Bai Sao – with its powdery sand and swaying palm trees – is the oft-sung star. It figures, really, given that its name translates to Star Beach (on account of the starfish you’ll see while snorkelling).
Sunbeds under tropical palms on beautiful Bai Sao Beach on Phu Quoc Island.
3. Long Beach, Phu Quoc
Another Phu Quoc gem is Long Beach, on the island’s west coast, a 20-kilometre-long stretch of golden sand. It’s here you’ll find five-star InterContinental Phu Quoc Long Beach Resort, part of the upswell of luxury international resorts now sprinkling the island and indicating that it’s well on its way to becoming a global beach resort destination: get in before everyone else does.
4. Con Dao Islands
Look up ‘idyllic’ in the dictionary and you’ll likely find this place. Largely protected from tourism due to its remote location, about 230 kilometres south of Ho Chi Minh City, the Con Dao archipelago hides some of the most peaceful and untouched beaches in Vietnam.
Each villa at Six Senses Con Dao has a private infinity pool overlooking the beachfront.
Made up of 16 mountainous islands and islets – the largest being Con Son – you can expect to find a selection of uber-private, absolute beachfront resorts here to lap up a Vietnam beach holiday in unadulterated luxury.
Among our favourite beaches though is Dat Doc Beach, where guests at Six Senses Con Dao can access a private stretch all to themselves. How’s that for a seriously five-star stay?
5. Mui Ne
Just 220 kilometres east of Ho Chi Minh City, Mui Ne is a charming fishing village cum tourist favourite.
Characterised by its rolling sand dunes, serene water, swaying palm trees and warm beach-going weather for most the year, many claim this to be Vietnam’s number one beach.
Ideal territory for windsurfing and kite surfing, it’s also not a bad setting for a seaside massage.
Once you get bored of the beach scene (if that’s even possible), there’s a growing string of restaurants, boutique shops and resorts nearby.
6. Ho Coc
A quaint seaside village roughly 125 kilometres southeast of Ho Chi Minh City, Ho Coc boasts one long sweeping stretch of fine sandy beach.
Featuring pristine waters and the occasional boulder plonked along its peaceful shoreline, there’s no shortage of photo opportunities here.
To make the most of the serene surrounds, come during the week and beat the weekend crowds who day trip here from larger centres.
It’s also worthy checking out the nearby hot springs and rainforest.
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7. Four Seasons Resort The Nam Hai
For a little bit of luxury, stay at the Four Seasons Resort The Nam Hai on the outskirts of World Heritage-listed port town Hoi An. The resort grounds sit on a private, kilometre-long stretch of Ha My Beach, a popular beach on the country’s culturally rich central coast.
Content yourself with watching the water shimmer from your ocean-front villa or get active with a kayak on the East Sea.
And of course, take your chance to explore the old port town of Hoi An itself: with its centuries-old merchant houses, famously lantern-lit streets and promenades along the Thu Bon River bustling with people and eateries.
8. Minh Chau Beach
For a feeling of really getting away from it all and off the tourist trail, head to Quan Lan Island in northern Vietnam. Not far from Halong Bay, this sleepy island wasn’t always so sleepy: in the 11th century it served as a busy port for international trade.
Today the main drawcard here is the wild and beautiful Minh Chau Beach, stretching one kilometre in a crescent shape. But also don’t miss the beautiful old Quan Lan Temple (built in the Le Dynasty) with its exquisite carvings. Book yourself into a homestay and sink into local life for a couple of days.
For more information about travelling around Vietnam, visit our Vietnam guide.
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After youth-led protests in 2025, this year Nepal elected a 35-year-old former rapper as Prime Minister. In a country where tourism is its biggest industry, what’s next for travellers?
In 1986, Nepal changed its clock. It had used India Standard Time since 1920 so, to differentiate, it wound its clock 15 minutes ahead of, not behind, its big-brother neighbour. Boss move. “Nepal is strongly opposed to the idea that our identity is connected to India,” says Community Homestay Network (CHN) guide Bikal Khanal.
Tharu dance is traditionally set to hand drums. (Credit: Kate Lewis)
Today, Nepal is the only independent country with a 45-minute deviation to universal time; an oddity that’s become a symbol of national pride. The quirk is nearly as endearing as Kathmandu’s Tribhuvan airport where carved varnished wood and shiny red bricks rule. One sign points to a ‘Travelator’ and another to a ‘Grievance Handling Desk’ while visas are noisily stamped at customs for US dollars, cash only. When am I?
Spot the endemic Nepal gray langur. (Credit: Simon Urwin)
The 15 or 45 minute anomaly sees me tap out completely on timezone calculations. Why bend my brain calculating if it’s quarter to or quarter past elsewhere when I’m in the honking here and now of Kathmandu where the air is high-altitude crisp, the prayer flags flutter and the street dogs howl?
How tourism is changing in Nepal
Bardiya National Park is rich with wildlife. (Credit: Simon Urwin)
India is not the only association many Nepalis would like to shake. With eight of the world’s 10 tallest mountains, including Mount Everest and Annapurna, Nepal has long attracted mountaineers and trekkers, and expedition numbers are continuing to rise.
Tourism is one of the country’s biggest sources of foreign currency, so this growth is not negative, per se. But according to Ang Tshering Lama, who co-founded Phaplu Mountain Bike Club, being reduced to a mere trekking destination is limiting.
“Trekking is just one layer of our identity,” says Ang. “When it becomes the dominant narrative, it limits how we’re seen and how we see ourselves.” Nepal’s recent success, however, in diverting trekkers to less-trafficked areas such as Manaslu mofuntain, where visitor numbers rose by 117 per cent last year, offers hope that tourism can diversify even more radically.
Local men in Bhada village. (Credit: Simon Urwin)
The founder of CHN, Shiva Dhakal, wants that change. “The whole idea of the Community Homestay Network is to promote experiences outside of trekking,” he says. “Community tourism changes lives and helps kids stay home instead of coming to the city or migrating to the Middle East.”
Ang grew up seeing people leave, “not because they wanted to but because there weren’t enough opportunities to stay”, he states. Yet from remote villages to living traditions; food, art, music and emerging subcultures, “there’s so much that’s not being seen.”
CHN is opening some of those doors. It doesn’t own, or fund, any homes. Rather, it promotes homestays to travellers on a single, slick platform, while fostering entrepreneurship in places where women, marginalised castes, Indigenous people and the youth stand to benefit the most.
A new generation demanding more
Dalla Town Hall, where volunteers discuss anti-poaching tactics. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)
The future prospects of next-gen Nepalis can no longer be ignored. On a Kathmandu tour with 33-year-old guide Monica K.C, we pass buildings torched in the September 2025 ‘Gen Z protests’, including the Supreme Court and Parliament House. Seventy-two people died. “They were anti-corruption protests,” says Monica. “Politicians’ children are living a lavish life but the airports are crowded with youngsters leaving to find work.”
We stop in ‘little Tibet’ at the wondrous sixth-century Boudha Stupa. “The wheel of life is Buddhism in a nutshell,” says Monica. “Things such as hate, ignorance and anger keep you rotating around the wheel, so you must follow the principles of Buddhism to detach. If you can’t, there’s no nirvana for you.”
Boudha Stupa’s prayer wheels are used to recite Buddhist prayers. (Credit: Kate Lewis)
In a sun-drenched twist to the usual temple visit, we ascend the stupa’s sloping plinth and roam its whitewashed dome. Tendrils of diaphanous prayer flags stream from a steeple-like structure where the Buddha’s unblinking eyes stare out. No nirvana for you…
Tibetan-style prayer flags embellish the whitewashed dome of Bouda Stupa, a Buddhist temple. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)
The dome is delightfully free of guard rails or chiding from security. There is, however, a stern ‘No TikTok’ sign, perhaps in response to the youth’s newly flexed power. The booted-out Prime Minister, K.P. Sharma Oli, was replaced in a resounding election victory in March by 35-year-old Balendra Shah of the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) – a former rapper and mayor of Kathmandu. The RSP’s manifesto indicates tourism is a priority, and that Nepal’s cultural identity in areas such as gastronomy will be strengthened.
Vibrant souvenir shops and cafes around Boudha Stupa. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)
A more confronting stop awaits at Pashupatinath Temple. Today is Bala Chaturdashi, a Hindu festival where thousands of devotees gather to honour their dead ancestors. Vendors hauling foam mattresses do a lucrative trade as people set up for a night of vigil. This includes burning the bodies of recently deceased relatives on bamboo pyres in the Bagmati River, which flows into the sacred Ganges.
A woman at annual Hindu festival Bala Chaturdashi, in Kathmandu. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)
Wrapped in a shroud, the bodies are positioned with their heads facing north to the Himalayas where Lord Shiva resides. They’re covered with flowers and straw and set alight by male family members.
Hours later, the ashes are swept into the river where devotees will take a holy dip the next day. As much as Monica assures us it’s not voyeuristic to watch, I struggle to do so. “Here you see the reality of life because everyone ends up there,” she says, gesturing to the river.
Life unfiltered in the Terai region
Tharu woman and master weaver Parbati Chaudhary in Bhada Village. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)
The reality of life needs processing time, which the western Terai region delivers in spades. The Terai is largely separated from India by the Karnali River and Bardiya National Park, where elephants, rhinos and the elusive Bengal tiger roam.
Once a nomadic tribe, the Indigenous Tharu people are now the largest ethnic group here. “They didn’t know their daily life was interesting for international travellers but they’re starting to understand now,” says CHN founder Shiva.
Take a Jeep safari through Bardiya National Park. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)
We fly Buddha Air to Dhangadhi airport and drive five hours to stay in Tharu homes. The journey to Bhada village is a blur of roadside fruit stalls, traffic-stopping sacred cows and fields sown with wheat, rice, mustard, spinach, cauliflower and potatoes. Nepal’s agriculture feeds only Nepal.
Marigolds are an important part of Hindu rituals. (Credit: Simon Urwin)
“The only thing we export is young people,” says our guide Bikal. As the light dims and we plunge evermore rural, mysterious mounds of compacted hay – some house-sized – loom like the creatures from Where The Wild Things Are. Even our trusty driver gets flummoxed by a dirt road that abruptly ends and we find ourselves hurtling across a paddock.
On arrival, some are ferried to mud-walled cottages greened by gourd creepers, with thatched roofs and rustic-chic mosquito nets. Myself and two others are ushered to the home of corner store owner, mechanic and mushroom farmer Man Kumar Chilaruwa and his wife Rajkumari.
A warm welcome at a community homestay. (Credit: Simon Urwin)
They escort us to a bunker-esque back building with steel doors and a folding security gate, behind which is gleaming linoleum, dolphin-printed tiles and a shower cavity that must be gingerly stepped through to reach the toilet.
The ceiling lights emit a rainbow of colours (the bathroom light gets stuck in, frankly, a quite frightening red). We’re nevertheless touched that our hosts invested in all this bling when the average salary is around $275 a month.
In the coming days, we participate in Tharu traditions such as making moonshine, dancing, weaving straw handicrafts and gold-panning. We’re fed well with staples of rice, mustard greens, lentil pancakes, daal, curried chicken and tomato chutney served on antibacterial saal leaves.
Dig in. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)
Sonara community homestay president Indradevi Tharu tells us river snails are often served, and the boiled and pickled flesh of rats hunted in the rice fields. “Perhaps next time?” we say and all have a laugh.
The power of community homestays
Barda community homestay owners Parbati Chaudhary and Ram Krishni Devi Chaudhary. (Credit: Simon Urwin)
Immersing Western visitors in foreign cultural practices is not new. But with the Tharu, I never get that uneasy sensation that I’m being performed for. Despite being the only tourists, there’s no ‘othering’; just warm, composed and ultra-dignified welcomes. Like we’ve always been here.
“I love to have travellers in my village so I can see the world,” says local woman Parbati Chaudhary. “Why would I travel the world when the world comes to me?”
The graceful acceptance the Tharu offer, as well as the slow pace, works miracles on my frazzled nervous system. One day I even take a nap on a vacant homestay bed.
An authentic stay in the Sonara community. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)
Roosters strut and goats bray as we sit on the ground in al fresco kitchens, rolling rice flour into cylinders steamed to make dhikri (dumplings). When water is needed, we fetch it using a hand-operated pump as a family of ducks strolls by, side-eying us like curious neighbours.
Animal lovers will delight in Tharu villages. Kind and resourceful inventions are everywhere, such as snacking stations where two posts lean together, with leafy boughs dangling on rope for baby goats to forage from.
CHN’s CEO, Aayusha Prasain, nods knowingly when one in our group says she cried when she left her host, Shayam Chaudhary, in Bhada. Shayam’s 17-year-old son, Prashant, had translated, which deepened the connection.
“Community tourism turns travel into a relationship, not a transaction,” says Aayusha. “It places decision-making power in the hands of local communities, especially women and youth.” Since 2018, CHN has hosted more than 4000 travellers from 52 countries in 408 households, and estimates women’s participation has increased by 381 per cent.
Elephant watch. (Credit: Simon Urwin)
In the Bardiya community, where vexing human-animal conflict has been a balancing act for decades due to elephants raiding crops, long-time homestay operator Salik Ram Chaudhary says young people keep the older ones on their toes.
Gathering greens. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)
“We can’t keep homestays stagnant,” he says. “We have to upgrade our service and redefine our product or young people won’t see it as an attractive business. If we can keep evolving with this travelling trend we’re confident the youths will stay and continue it.”
Back in Kathmandu, Monica explains that after the deaths of young protestors in September, a determination had spread to not let their sacrifice be in vain. “We want to keep holding the government accountable,” she says. “We don’t know what situation we’re facing, but we’re ready to face it.”
Interested in Nepal but prefer to experience it in total comfort? Read our guide to luxury travel in Nepal.
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