The name The Burrow evokes the "Squirrel's Den" from the Harry Potter world, and that association isn't just decorative. Like the Weasley family home, The Burrow in Da Lat doesn't pursue stereotypical perfection. It's built on a spirit of living rather than design: an old French house, a tiled roof bearing the marks of time, a vegetable garden interspersed with flowers, small paths winding through bushes, a warm, golden-hued coffee counter, and more shared spaces than one might expect from a homestay.



It is this very spirit that creates the special appeal of The Burrow amidst a rapidly developing Da Lat focused on mass tourism. While many accommodations today prioritize visual experiences – places where tourists come to take photos, post them, and leave – The Burrow seems to choose the opposite approach: creating a space that is intimate enough to make people want to stay longer than planned.

The Burrow was built to be "home"—a place where guests can stay for extended periods, like a second home.
Few would imagine that behind the warm and peaceful facade of The Burrow lies a period of intense pressure. Anh Quân shared that before creating this little "squirrel den," he went through a hectic period of work, to the point where he had to stop to relieve his stress. In November 2018, he decided to quit his job, leave his old life behind, and embark on a three-month backpacking trip from South to North Vietnam. During that journey, the homestays he stayed in—sometimes just a small room, a warm kitchen, or a few short conversations—became the things he remembered most.
"There are places that aren't overly beautiful or fancy, but they make you feel welcome and truly relaxed. I think, if one day I have my own space, I'd like to create a place like that," he said.



The idea for The Burrow, therefore, didn't begin as a business plan but rather as a need to create a "second home" for himself and for others who had felt weary like him. Starting from an old French house behind Yersin School, he renovated it little by little: opening a small café, building bungalows in the garden, creating pathways through the greenery, and personally working with others to complete the furniture, signage, and every common area. "The Burrow isn't the most perfect place, but I always want anyone who walks in to feel like they're coming home," he said.



Over the years, the space has expanded into various room types, from attics and double bungalows to family rooms, while still retaining its original feel: a purposeful living space that doesn't lose its privacy or sense of connection.
What sets The Burrow apart is how it defines the stay experience. Rows of lettuce, cabbage, kohlrabi, and trellises of lantern flowers, roses, and purple castor oil plants give the grounds the feel of a truly vibrant and thriving garden, not just a backdrop for photos. This greenery is also an important part of the stay experience, as guests have the opportunity to enjoy home-cooked meals with vegetables grown in the garden.


The rooms at The Burrow are designed primarily with wood in warm, cozy brown tones.
The Burrow's common areas—from Harry Potter posters and a book corner to a small souvenir shop, hot coffee, ice cream, childhood snacks, and even a few lazy dogs lying at the foot of the tables—all coexist like a multi-generational home, where childhood memories and adult life are inseparable. Here, the meticulousness doesn't come from luxury but from the feeling of being cared for with genuine sincerity.
Balcony overlooking the garden
Bar and souvenir shop
By day, The Burrow exudes the pristine beauty of the highland light, with windows overlooking greenhouses and vegetable gardens. But when night falls, its true character is revealed. Warm yellow lights illuminate the grounds, BBQs, candlelight, movies, or simply sitting together in the cool Da Lat air create a connection increasingly rare in modern tourism: an unforced intimacy. Strangers can chat, tired people can find peace, and both feel a sense of belonging in their own way.



The nighttime scene is illuminated by the twinkling lights from the greenhouses on the hillside opposite.
Perhaps that's why The Burrow doesn't just welcome short-term tourists. It has become a long-term residence for many, from international travelers staying through the Lunar New Year to couples choosing to hold their weddings there. A homestay truly transcends its function as a place to stay when it can become the setting for important memories, and The Burrow seems to have achieved that. For Mr. Quan, that's the most valuable thing: when a place to stay can truly become a home for strangers.


In the ever-changing landscape of Da Lat, the presence of places like The Burrow evokes an old but timeless value: travel doesn't necessarily mean rushing to the most spectacular spots, but sometimes finding a tranquil place where one can truly relax. It's no coincidence that many leave The Burrow feeling like they've left something familiar behind. It's not just a room, a garden, or an evening by the fireplace. It's the feeling of living slowly, being cared for by simple things, and being reminded that "being at home" doesn't always depend on a fixed location.

The Burrow is a tranquil place with a picturesque setting, perfect for a relaxing and truly enjoyable vacation.
Da Lat is always vast, always full of new places. But amidst countless options, The Burrow chooses to be small. And it is precisely that smallness – an old house, a green garden, a few warm yellow lights, and the spirit of a "Squirrel Cave" – that makes it a place people remember not because they've visited, but because they truly belonged there.

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