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In early May, Mr. Thuy and his mother, Mrs. Nguyen Thi Gai, 74 years old, began a 10-day journey through the Central Highlands and Central Vietnam. No organized tours, no packed itinerary, no specific destinations; their trip was simply a series of spontaneous stops – places with beautiful scenery, places where people needed help, and places guided by their hearts.
As a photographer specializing in documenting life in remote areas, Thuy has visited many isolated villages. During these travels, besides taking photos, he also carried out small charitable activities such as distributing gifts, sharing food, and chatting with ethnic minority people. It was in these moments that a longing grew in his heart: to bring his mother along, so she could see and experience a world she had only heard about before. "For me, all the photos I've taken with my mother are priceless moments," Thuy confided.
On a 10-day journey with my mother
Without much preparation or elaborate planning, the mother and son set off on May 3rd, departing from Ho Chi Minh City along National Highway 13, traversing Binh Duong and Binh Phuoc provinces, before gradually making their way into the vast Central Highlands. Carrying warmth through the mountains in their small vehicle, driven by Mr. Thuy himself, the two brought 50 gift packages containing essential supplies and a small amount of cash – small gifts but filled with great sentiment. Whenever they encountered people in need, they stopped and handed over the gifts with affectionate eyes. It wasn't simply an act of charity; it was sharing from the heart.
In Buon Ma Thuot, the first stop on their journey, the mother and son didn't rest for long after the 300-kilometer drive. Thuy took his mother to visit Lak Lake – one of the typical scenic spots of the Central Highlands, where elephants leisurely stroll along the water's edge. Along the way, he took the opportunity to take a few photos of his mother at the Coffee Museum, capturing her gentle smile and radiant eyes amidst a space blending contemporary and traditional architecture.
Cao Như Thụy and her mother at the Imperial Citadel of Hue.
In Gia Lai, mother and daughter visited Minh Thanh Pagoda and were captivated by the centuries-old pine trees swaying in the wind. In Kon Tum, they stopped at the Wooden Church – a distinctive religious symbol with architecture that blends Western and local culture.
The final stop in the Central Highlands was Mang Den, a cool highland town nestled amidst pine forests. In Kon Vong Kia village, inhabited by the Xo Dang ethnic group, all the gifts we brought were distributed. There were no complaints, no calculations, just a heart unwilling to turn away from poverty. "I remember most vividly the time my mother and I distributed gifts in Kon Vong Kia village. Even after we ran out, poor people still came, and my mother asked me to buy more gifts to give to them, because she didn't want anyone to leave empty-handed," Thuy shared.
Leaving the Central Highlands, Mr. Thuy drove his mother down to Central Vietnam via the Violak Pass, a treacherous road nearly 30 km long at an altitude of 1,300 m. That morning, the sun was not shining; clouds hung like silk threads over the pass. The two of them stopped halfway up the pass, opened the car doors, took a deep breath of the crisp, cool air, and stood silently admiring the dreamy landscape, like a watercolor painting.
The mother and daughter traveled from famous landmarks to chase clouds at this scenic spot.
The next destination was Hue, an ancient and tranquil city. Thuy took his mother to the Imperial Citadel, took photos in front of the Ngo Mon Gate, and walked around the citadel. Surprised by his mother's stamina, he said, "She didn't complain about being tired at all, and she enjoyed walking even more than I did."
In the afternoon, he drove to Ha Cang to watch the sunset over the golden rice fields and the solitary tree, a location that had appeared in the movie "Blue Eyes." As the sunlight slanted down on the bamboo groves and the wind rustled through the fields, Thuy thought to himself, "This is not just a beautiful scene, but a memory. A memory of a trip with my mother sitting beside me."
Sweet surprises from Mom
Throughout the trip, his mother was not only a companion but also an "inspiration." She didn't criticize the unusual dishes like bitter eggplant, wild spinach, or various local fish sauces. She didn't complain about sleeping in simple guesthouses, resting in fields or by mountain passes. On the contrary, she encouraged her son: "Traveling like this teaches you to appreciate the ordinary things you have."
In Hoi An, his mother happily walked for miles, strolling around the old town and buying a few small souvenirs. She also marveled at the lanterns and took photos with foreign tourists without any hesitation. From Da Nang, Thuy didn't return to the main highway but chose the coastal route. He called it "a gentle piece to conclude his 10-day journey."
A meaningful trip for mother and daughter.
In Phu Yen, he took his mother to Bai Mon, home to the Dai Lanh lighthouse – the easternmost point of the mainland. The narrow entrance to the beach made him nervous while driving, fearing an accident. But upon arrival, seeing the endless blue sea and his mother's radiant eyes, he knew all the nervousness was worth it. At the end of the long journey, as the car rolled back to Ho Chi Minh City, Thuy sat silently behind the wheel, his heart filled with emotion. Throughout the 10 days, what moved him most wasn't the beautiful scenery or the photogenic moments, but the lessons he learned from his 74-year-old mother.
Cao Nhu Thuy and her mother's 10-day trip wasn't just about "checking in" at scenic spots, but a journey of healing, connection, and sharing. Along the long roads, during unexpected stops, the two left behind not only the dusty tracks of their bicycles but also warmth, love, and a lifetime of precious memories.
