Every year, it’s the same: magazines announce their hot destinations for the year, local media amplifies the news, and after a brief moment of pride, visitor numbers barely budge. Then there’s Vietnam’s recent accolades – from National Geographic’s Best of the World 2025 to Travel + Leisure Asia’s top picks – that tell only part of the story. The real narrative is Vietnam’s emergence as a destination of desire – an authentic alternative to Thailand’s well-worn paths and the sleek consumerism of Singapore or Hong Kong. With international arrivals up 40% from last year with 14.1 million visitors by late 2024, the numbers speak for themselves. But how about a not hotlist of the best undiscovered places in Vietnam for anyone looking to get off the beaten path in this destination du jour?
We’re breaking an unspoken rule here. Our panel of Vietnam veterans is sharing their carefully guarded secrets, creating not just another travel guide, but a treasure map to places tourism hasn’t touched. Not yet, anyway.
The Dot Magazine’s Not Hotlist 2025: The Best Undiscovered Places In Vietnam
So, this is The Dot Magazine’s Not Hotlist – where you won’t find drone shots of Halong Bay or the golden hands of Ba Na Hills. Instead, our long-term residents, industry insiders, and Vietnam specialists reveal their personal hideaways: places that make locals raise eyebrows when foreign faces appear, spots they hesitate to geotag, and retreats that offer solace from the crowds.
Introducing Our Curators Of The Dot Magazine’s Not Hotlist 2025 And Their Favorite Undiscovered Places In Vietnam
Some locations come with insider tips – seasonal sweet spots, local contacts, and urgent “visit before development” notices. Others barely register on Google Maps. All remind us that in a country of 100 million people and 3,260 kilometers of coastline, genuine discovery is still possible.
Con Dao Island by Annie Thu, CEO & Co-Founder of TUBUDD
When she’s not scaling her travel platform TUBUDD, Annie Thu is probably somewhere between country number 30 and 31, taking mental notes on how strangers become friends. Twelve years ago, she was that local buddy in Vietnam, showing wide-eyed travelers how to cross Hanoi’s streets without flinching. Now she’s turned that experience into something bigger – creating an army of local friends for visitors who want more than tourist-board Vietnam. From business deal navigation to medical system guidance, TUBUDD’s evolved into a bridge between cultures, served up by some of the most linguistically gifted, adaptable people you’ll meet.
Vietnam has its must-visits, Annie tells us. “There’s Hanoi, Saigon, Danang, Hoi An, Sapa and Ha Long Bay. Then there are places that are more effortful, but worth it – the Ha Giang Loop is one of those. Ly Son Island, Con Dao Island, Dien Bien Phu, Kon Tum, and Mang Den.”
“Personally, my most favorite would be Ha Giang and Con Dao Island. So hidden and so pure and interesting. In Ha Giang there are many towns and villages up in the mountains. You have to spend time driving around the loops, head, literally, in the clouds,” she adds.
“But for this Not Hotlist Con Dao Island has my heart. It has the best diving – the turtles, the coral – and of course the history. Life there is so simple and quiet. The beaches are just amazing and untouched,” she decides.
Visitors can go to Con Dao Island from October to April or during summer, say July or August time.
“I never really knew Vietnamese history till I went to Con Dao Island. The stories from history books really came to life. Standing under the sun in a tiger cage you could feel what it was like there years ago, it was a terrifying experience. I felt the pain of the whole nation. I felt the cruelty the war brought upon everyone too. And I felt how dangerous and difficult it was to hang on to a string of hope. And yet when I stepped outside, the beautiful nature started to heal me. Lying along an empty beach in Con Dao Island was one of the best experiences I’ve had in my life.”
Tuy Hoa, Phu Yen Province by Michael Piro, CEO of Wink Hotels
A shared cheeseburger, off a Vietnamese classmate, and a Vietnamese high school sweetheart was where Michael Piro’s Southeast Asian dream began. Landing in Vietnam at 21 with nothing but raw ambition and a one-way ticket, he found himself in sleepy Danang, selling luxury condos to skeptical buyers. From sales floor to construction site to investment team, he helped shape landmarks like the Hyatt Regency Danang. Now, as CEO of Wink Hotels, he’s created Vietnam’s first homegrown hotel brand, bringing luxury-level attention to detail to the select-service space. “Come with respect for the culture,” he advises anyone wishing to relocate, like he did, “and Vietnam’s opportunities are endless.”
Take Tuy Hoa, for example, a place that, for Michael, started out as just another site visit to the plot of land a couple of hundred meters from the beach that would become Wink Hotel Tuy Hoa, which opened in early 2024. But a weekend exploring with his kids in 2019 revealed something more – a glimpse of Vietnam’s next great coastal destination, raw and unpolished.
Here, where the mountains meet the sea, the coastline breaks into a dramatic series of hidden bays and sweeping cliffs that remind him equally of the Mediterranean and Halifax, on the coast of his home country, Canada. At Bai Nom beach, where the Mandarin Oriental will soon rise, Michael and his children pitched tents under the stars, claiming their spot in a landscape still untouched by development.
“After watching Danang’s evolution, there’s something special about discovering a place before its moment arrives,” Michael reflects. “The whole South-Central coast feels different – more dramatic, more varied. Where Danang offers that classic long, flat shoreline, here you find these intimate coves and rocky headlands that make every turn of the road a revelation.”
Now is a good time to visit, before the luxury resorts stake their claims. Soon enough, Michael predicts, this stretch of coast will host Vietnam’s millionaire’s row, with rooms commanding four-figure rates. But for now, you can still find authentic nem nuong (grilled pork rolls) that Michael swears are “worth the trip alone,” and glimpse a coastline on the cusp of transformation.
Hue by Camellia Dinh, Founder of The Brand Promise
Camellia Dinh spends her days rewriting the rules of Vietnam’s workplace culture, one unconventional decision at a time. Her “Future of Work is Life” philosophy isn’t just a catchy tagline – in a city where six-day workweeks are still common, her team operates on a four-day schedule. When she’s not sending Vietnamese team members to Japan for cross-cultural exchanges or teaching at RMIT Vietnam, she’s proving that conscious enterprise isn’t just possible in Vietnam – it’s profitable. The Brand Promise only partners with brands that share their commitment to sustainability and ethics.
“Most visitors give Hue a day, maybe two,” Camellia tells us. Eight years ago, when she checked into her hotel there for four nights, they flagged her as a ‘long-stay’ guest. Even the locals thought she was crazy. But in Vietnam’s former imperial capital, where time moves at the pace of poetry, she discovered something that guidebooks miss.
Here, the rain isn’t something to avoid – it’s part of the performance. “While most tourists flock to Hue between January and April for clear skies, there’s a special romance to the monsoon months. From September to December, when tourist numbers thin, the city transforms. The steady drum of raindrops on ancient tiles turns every courtyard into a meditation, every bowl of local cuisine into a ceremony. It’s during these moments, that you really feel Hue’s pulse,” Camellia insists.
Between wandering across the historic Truong Tien Bridge and exploring Ho Chi Minh’s old haunts at Quoc Hoc High School, she found a city that defies easy categorization. The locals speak with an accent she found challenging but endearing, many never venturing beyond nearby Danang. Yet in 2025, as Hue steps into its new role as a centrally governed city, it’s becoming a laboratory for how Vietnam balances preservation with progress.
“Most cities in Vietnam are racing toward the future,” Camellia reflects. “But Hue? It’s mastering the art of slow transformation.” It’s a place where ancient nhã nhạc music still echoes through streets lined with smart city infrastructure, where the ghosts of thirteen emperors watch over a generation busy reimagining their cultural inheritance.
Yok Don National Park, Dak Lak Province by Jacobo Priegue Martínez, Co-Founder of SODÅ Hotel Management Platform
A decade in Vietnam has taught Jacobo Priegue Martínez something crucial about the hotel business: sometimes the most powerful innovations come from stripping things back to their essence. After years of collaborating with international management companies, he saw independent hotels struggling while solutions remained locked behind the gates of big management companies. His answer is SODÅ, a cutting-edge management platform that’s more laboratory than traditional hotel service provider, giving independent hotels access to the kind of operational firepower usually reserved for global chains.
For Jacobo, what started as a mission to explore Southeast Asia’s longest volcanic cave system turned into something entirely unexpected. Landing in Buon Ma Thuot, he discovered Vietnam’s first ethical elephant sanctuary in Yok Don National Park.
Here, elephant encounters happen on nature’s terms. No feeding stations or staged photo ops – just distant whistles from the guardians who shadow these magnificent creatures for twelve hours daily, ensuring they stay within the park’s boundaries while living completely wild. These elephants, all rescued but never confined, spend their days exactly as they should: foraging for young bamboo and medicinal turmeric, unbothered by tourist demands.
But the real revelation, Jacobo remembers, was the park guide, A Sử, from the Hmong minority. As they tracked elephant paths through the forest, A Sử revealed a different side of Vietnam – one where ancient knowledge still matters. “He taught us to distinguish deadly mushrooms from edible ones, showed us towering ant colonies, and shared how water buffalo instinctively find safe drinking spots,” Jacobo adds. “Between tracking sessions, he told us how his father won his mother’s heart by playing love songs on a leaf – a courtship tradition from his village that felt a world away from modern Vietnam.”
The best time to visit is during the dry season for easier tracking, but be prepared: this isn’t your typical wildlife experience. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the most profound connections happen at a distance, and the best stories come from those who’ve been listening to the forest’s whispers for as long as anyone can remember.
Ban Co Peak, Danang, by Sohan Singh Bisht, Chef & Co-Founder of RANG Restaurant
In Danang’s atmospheric coastal setting, RANG Restaurant unfolds as Vietnam’s first contemporary Indian restaurant – though to call it simply that feels like an understatement. At its helm, Chef Sohan brings a decade of Mediterranean expertise to bear on India’s rich culinary heritage, creating dishes that dance between tradition and innovation. His global travels infuse every plate, whether it’s a reimagined classic brightened with unexpected Mediterranean touches or an entirely new creation born from his wanderlust. The restaurant itself feels like a culinary sanctuary, where India’s diverse regional flavors are celebrated and transformed. Each dish emerging from RANG’s kitchen tells a story of cultural cross-pollination, painted in bold spices and plated with an artist’s eye. This isn’t just dinner – it’s a journey through the spice routes of old, reimagined for the modern palate.
“Most tourists race up the winding roads to Da Nang’s Marble Mountains or Son Tra Peninsula, Sohan tells us. But he found his inspiration somewhere quieter – Ban Co Peak, where a stone chessboard and a fairy’s statue ruminate above the cityscape.
It was here, watching a sunset paint the sky in the same rich colors that would later fill his spice-laden kitchen at RANG, that he found the name for his Indian restaurant. “The sunset is something we all share,” he reflects, “no matter where we’re from.” RANG, meaning ‘color’ in Hindi, was born in that moment where the mountains meet the sea.
The peak, crowned by the statue of De Thich the chess fairy, offers more than just panoramic views of Da Nang’s emerging skyline. “In the early mornings and late afternoons, when the tourist crowds are elsewhere, it becomes a space for contemplation,” he explains. Here, where local legend meets natural beauty, you’ll find one of those increasingly rare spots in Vietnam where the past and present sit quietly together, playing an endless game of chess above the clouds.
Ca Na, Ninh Thuan Province, by Fran Diéguez, Nunatic CEO of Nuna
Raised in his family’s guesthouse in Santiago de Compostela, Fran Diéguez watched as proud independent hotels got squeezed through the algorithmic sausage machine of online travel agencies. Then came Vietnam. By day three, he was weaving through Ho Chi Minh City on a motorbike, high on the city’s relentless energy. Now, as Nuna’s self-styled ‘Nunatic CEO,’ he’s helping independent properties write their own stories again, algorithms be damned.
“I’ve been on a mission to discover the country’s most intriguing traditional festivals – this has led me to fascinating events like the buffalo races in Chau Doc. I could also point to more modern spots, like Gatosano in Danang, where you enter through the back of a butcher shop. It sounds unusual, but after a while here, you realize quirky hidden entrances aren’t that rare in Vietnam,” Fran begins.
However, for this Not Hotlist he’s choosing Ca Na.
“I was traveling north along the coastal highway on my old Honda Dream, having just left Mui Né – where I felt a bit let down. I didn’t like the brand of tourism offered there. After about five hours on the road, night fell, and I decided to stop at the first roadside hotel I saw. My plan was simply to rest up before continuing on to Nha Trang,” he remembers.
When I checked in, they showed him a price list I couldn’t decipher. “Fortunately, the host pointed to one of the rooms and said, ‘Sea view,’ at a rate of 250,000 VND. Even though I only needed a bed, I was curious to see that view.” The moment he stepped inside, his eyes locked on a window framing the dark blue sea perfectly. No highway noise, just the rhythmic crash of the waves. “The rest of the room faded into the background – mismatched furniture from who knows how many eras. But at that moment, the only thing that mattered was the calming sound of the water,” he glows at the memory.
“The next morning, I headed to the small nhậu joint next door for breakfast. That’s when I realized the real treasure at my doorstep: a beautiful beach with white sand, crystal-clear water, and not another person in sight. Instead of continuing my journey, I decided to stay there for a few days. That’s how I discovered Ca Na, the nearest town, and I even visited a small pagoda in the nearby mountains. It was a paradise-like setting, yet there wasn’t a trace of globalization or mass tourism – apart from one handwritten sign in Cà Ná that said ‘Pizza’ and pointed down a narrow alley. Curious, I followed it and wound up in the living room of a retired Saigon 5-star hotel chef, who’d moved back home to serve his own spin on pizza. It was the perfect unexpected bonus.”
For a beach hotel, it’s usually best to go outside of the rainy season. “That said, if we’re talking about a ‘not hot list’ of the best undiscovered places to visit in Vietnam in 2025. exploring locations during what the travel industry calls ‘low season’ can be a fantastic way to stumble upon unexpected experiences. Personally, I’ve lost count of the times I’ve gotten lost on the road or pulled over because of a sudden downpour, only to end up sharing a drink with a local family in their living room. Those impromptu encounters are what make off-season travel so memorable,” he adds.
“Whenever I reflect on how this place both reflects and challenges traditional Vietnamese culture, I think of the retired 5-star Saigon hotel chef who returned to his fishing village in Ca Na. In a humble house decorated with carved wooden details inside and low plastic chairs outside – quintessentially Vietnamese – he now crafts pizza with toppings like kimchi. That dish alone combines Italian origins, Korean influences, and a purely local environment, showcasing how cultures can evolve and intertwine without necessarily losing their roots.”
Vietnam’s Hidden Bar Scene by Natalya Wissink, Founder of Secret Experiences
If you’re looking for Natalya Wissink, chances are you’ll find her charting a course through Saigon’s hidden bars or swapping stories with a local chef in some tucked-away kitchen. After twelve years in Vietnam, she saw how the country’s story was being told through tired narratives: ancient temples, war history, bowl after bowl of pho. Six years ago, she launched Secret Experiences to flip the script. Her Secret Cocktail Experience now weaves through four venues in a single evening, building bridges between Vietnam’s rich heritage and its dynamic future, one carefully curated experience at a time.
“When seeking out Saigon’s most intriguing cocktail bars, you need to know where to look,” Natalya nods. “Take To – Hidden Cocktail Bar, for instance. It’s one of those places that reminds you why you fell in love with this city in the first place – the kind of spot where the story of modern Vietnam unfolds one expertly crafted cocktail at a time.”
As someone who’s watched Saigon’s cocktail scene evolve over the past decade, Natalya has witnessed its transformation from basic sports bars to sophisticated spaces that rival those in Bangkok, Singapore or Hong Kong. “What makes these places special isn’t just what’s in the glass – it’s the way they weave Vietnam’s rich cultural heritage into every aspect of the experience.”
She points to venues like Legato and Lozzi on Pham Viet Chanh street, where locals gather nightly, far from the well-worn tourist paths of District 1. “These spots represent the new wave of Vietnamese mixology – places where traditional ingredients meet contemporary techniques. But perhaps what’s most exciting is how they’ve become creative hubs for the local community rather than tourist attractions.”
The cocktail renaissance isn’t limited to Saigon, either, she says. In Da Nang, Makara has carved out its own niche. Even in the nearby ancient town of Hoi An, where centuries-old traditions still hold sway, a new generation of bars is emerging. “Though the speakeasy scene here is still in its infancy, the bars that do exist show a deep respect for both craft and heritage. It’s not about replacing the old with the new – it’s about building bridges between past and present.”
The capital might, arguably, be leading in the style stakes, with hidden Hanoi gems like Liquid Store and Rabbit Habit breathing new life into the capital’s ancient streets. “What I love about places like those, and 3Pias and Aura, is how they’ve managed to honor the city’s traditional architecture while creating something entirely contemporary,” she notes.