Go to Vietnam

January 2024 hit me with a fire in my chest. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew I needed an adventure. The day-to-day grind was boring me. I became boring. I’d always dreamed of Vietnam, so I turned to my wife and said, “I’m going.”

Why Vietnam? Simple. I’ve been obsessed with their food for half my life, especially that vermicelli pork salad. I wanted to eat it in the place it was born. My wife didn’t hesitate: “Go. You need this.”

So I did. I bought a solo ticket, flew from Chicago to Istanbul, spent 12 hours wandering that incredible city, then hopped back on a plane straight to Vietnam. And let me tell you, the moment I stood before a Buddha statue so massive you could see it from miles away, I knew I’d done the right thing. It was electrifying to rip myself out of the routine American life and drop into a world so wildly different.

I drank snake whiskey. I explored temples. I ate food that ruined me for takeout back home. I came alive.

And the adventure didn’t stop there. Since then, I’ve traveled to India, and I just booked trips to Thailand and Hong Kong. I’ve caught the travel bug, and it’s changed me. I don’t care about a big house or fancy cars. I crave experiences, cultures, perspectives.

So here’s my advice: if you ever feel stuck, lost, or questioning everything, buy that ticket. Get on the plane. Go to Vietnam.