Xin chào các bạn, it’s Meowu here! Your favourite Indochine Chic travel freelancer, reporting straight from my beloved Hà Nội base. You know I’m always chasing that perfect blend of nostalgia, elegance, and raw beauty—the kind of places that make you feel like you’ve stepped back into a simpler, more romantic time.
So when Thung Ui exploded onto my feed right before Tết, with everyone looking like extras from a Vietnamese period film? Darling, I was intrigued. A newly opened valley in the Tràng An complex, steeped in 10th-century history, with emerald waters and limestone mountains? I booked my ticket faster than you can say “Đàn Kính Thiên.”
And now? I’m back in my little Hà Nội apartment, sipping trà đá, and I have thoughts. Let’s get into it.
First, let me give credit where it’s due. Thung Ui is visually stunning. The concept is beautiful—a restored spiritual site honoring King Đinh Tiên Hoàng, with the Đàn Kính Thiên altar sitting peacefully beside a mirror-like lake, all wrapped in those iconic Ninh Bình mountains. They’ve added a recreated Mường ethnic village with traditional stilt houses and water wheels. In the soft morning light? It’s absolutely dreamy. For a photographer, it’s catnip.
I could see the vision. I could feel what they were trying to create: a peaceful, culturally rich escape that connects you to Vietnam’s royal past.
But darlings, you know Meowu. I look beyond the filter. And what I found beneath that stunning surface was… well, a little disappointing. Here’s why.
Let that sink in. Thirty thousand hotel rooms planned around this fragile valley.
They are planning to build a massive complex around this “pristine” valley. More construction. More tour buses. The very thing that makes Thung Ui special—that untouched beauty—is about to be swallowed by development.
It’s not just disappointing. It’s the opposite of sustainable tourism.
Would I recommend Thung Ui right now? If you’re a photographer who needs that shot and doesn’t mind the crowds and the price? Go early, on a weekday, and you might get your masterpiece. Go before the 30,000 rooms arrive.
But if you’re a traveller like me—someone who wants to feel a place, to understand its story, to linger and connect? Wait. Or better yet, go somewhere else. Watch with sadness as the bulldozers move in.
Right now, it’s a beautiful face without much to say. And with those development plans, that face is about to be buried under a very ugly concrete mask. I need a little conversation with my chic. Not a shouting match with 30,000 hotel guests.
For now, I’ll stick to my favourite Hà Nội corners and the tried-and-true magic of Tràng An’s caves. Thung Ui? Call me when you’ve found your voice—and cancelled the construction.
