Ha Giang HORIZON Tour

One fading dusk on a nameless pass teetering at the edge of the clouds in the borderlands, Johnny stood still, his lens capturing golden light seeping into the timeless wilderness of Hà Giang. He’s scoured this land for years, tracing unmarked trails thousands of meters high where earth and sky collide, where humans return to their humble form before nature’s sublime beauty.

You know, we all haven’t roamed the whole world, but the souls of solo travelers brim with tales of ancient civilizations, lands that rose and fell into mystery. From books to long nights by flickering fires, listening to the rain’s soft patter wash away the world’s sorrows. Hà Giang is a realm apart – not a glitzy “check-in” spot reeking of cheap allure, but an eerie majesty. Somber villages, bowed in quiet reverence year-round, huddle on a kingdom of jagged rocks, caught in a slow, almost frozen loop of time, quietly nestled in drifting dusk mists or faintly gleaming in the fleeting pristine dawn’s five-colored clouds. That’s Hà Giang – a primal ancient world fading like Shangri-La in The Lost Horizon.

No way, we’ve got to bring friends from across the globe here, to witness a world 300, 1,000 years past, alive amidst the roaring whirlwind of a frenzied modern reality, defying the megalodon-like maw of Globalization ready to swallow the last sacred lands.

We’ve got to do something, like how Jimmy Nelson and Steve McCurry weave stories of these lands through lenses that have shot millions of frames.

That’s why, in 2022, Vietnamhorizontours (originally Oriental Horizon Travel – a quest for the golden past of the mystical East) was born, with a reckless dream: to leap past the horizon, where free-spirited travelers dig up the joy of existence in a Vietnam like no other.

Yeah, part of it’s our fury at how they do tourism in Vietnam – shallow, amateur. Big companies and “famous” photographers lazily copy routes, steal ideas, never touching the heart of a journey or honoring cultural and ethnic diversity. They can’t grasp the burning desire in every traveler’s soul – for a journey not just vast but profound.

The world is too immense for a fleeting life, a mere sneeze in the universe’s timeline. How can we return to a beloved place twice and find it unchanged? The river you crossed has flowed to the sea, turned to clouds years ago. Even Italy’s muse, Monica Bellucci, sighs before time’s march. Return to Sapa after five years – can you still breathe the sacred air of Indochina’s highest peak? It’s impermanence! Few places, like the holy Kailash, stand untouched by space and time. We live once in this form and mind – only this moment matters. Photography and travel share that same knot, that same opening.

Local culture, too – those who’ve crossed many cultural layers cherish the ones they’re about to meet. That’s the primal instinct to preserve essence. When hearts that adore difference step into this land, they gasp, smile, say hello, thank you, and wave with tears in their eyes to the silent keepers of this place. They stir something in the Dzao, H’mong, Lô Lô, Tày… a tremor of respect and a nameless joy creeping into their minds. Cultural exchange sparks fresh emotions. When a far-wandering traveler and a lone local, hauling grain in winter’s cold rain on a solitary ridge trail, meet in a fleeting glance – empathetic eyes, a carefree smile – that’s the purest joy of travel, weaving strangers into a shared rhythm, however brief.

Horizon lives for that, wild in our own way, unbound by any mold: guiding you along trails marked only by minority footprints, cooking honest local meals – no frills, just the raw scent of the mountains, warm rice wine, endless laughter, and late-night fireside talks. Friends aren’t guests – they’re kin, family. We share and preserve this fragile planet together.

We’ve been doubted, scorned for our sincerity – unlike the cunning of typical Vietnamese tourism – nearly gave up when copycats won with loud ads or dumb luck. But we know: even their friends see a hidden Vietnam, one like no other, and that’s how we make a difference, even if it’s a cross we bear daily.

When old legacies are copied, we don’t stop. We hunt new rays of light, otherworldly skies across Hà Giang, Cao Bằng, Lai Châu, Sơn La – paths born from passion, where only wind and eternal silence reign. They copy again? We keep creating, our fire burning like green wood, never fading. Horizon isn’t just travel. Every moment, every shot you capture will make you never forget Vietnam’s magical days. Like Jimmy Nelson or Steve McCurry inspire, we bring Vietnam to the world in our own way, hoping to host adventure festivals with Red Bull, Harley-Davidson, making the world shout: “Vietnam’s un-fucking-believable!”

Horizon is reckless, yet sincere. We don’t chase money or hype $5,000-a-night resorts or 9,000-room yachts. We tell high rollers that in Vietnam, true value lies in professionalism drenched in the sauce of sincerity – a hot tea by the cliff, a late-night talk that makes you smile a decade later. A friend from Germany broke into tears after a few short winter days brimming with memories and laughter, saying: “Horizon gave me a family.”

We’re kids trying to wake the kid in them, in you, reigniting the joy of life, the love for raw nature – not hollow “healing” but a rebirth of an old self in an ever-changing form, guided by the light of an existential world that seems desolate yet pulses with a heart full of adrenaline-fueled joy.

Hà Giang, and Vietnam, to us – chaotic, noisy, from concrete cities to jumbled architecture – still holds a melancholic beauty, like Tahiti where Chicago guy, Edward Barnard fell for the island chief’s daughter, amidst whispering winds and coconut palms dancing to a Pacific blue concerto. Only open hearts see it.

Horizon instills this creed in our team: every trip is a memory you’ll never forget, for friends who’ve crossed thousands of miles to Vietnam, about connection and a Vietnam the world once shunned. Brothers from five continents have wept like rain for the taste of kinship at Horizon – a bond so true it overwhelms even those who’ve wandered the world. A feeling that even neighbors back in their hometowns could never give you.

If you’re a partner, join us to write this endless novel. If you’re a traveler, come find your kin in Vietnam. Miss Horizon, and you’ll regret it like missing a story that never repeats. A story where, if you’re young, you’ll find comrades to sing, dance, and ride through boundless mountain winds and endless chasms. If you’re older, Horizon is your old friend, reliving dreams of youth, sipping beer, lighting a cigarette, and sharing a quiet laugh.

Vietnamhorizontours – reckless, foolishly young at 13 again, bro. Remember sneaking to watch “soft action” flicks with your crew? Try riding through Hà Giang first. Twenty years later, when you’re a rich gentleman or lady cruising dusty roads in Ladakh, Karakoram, or Pacific coconut groves, fairy-tale autumns in New Zealand, you’ll ache for the memory of pissing past the horizon with the Horizon cartel!