Phu Quoc is a tropical island off the southwest coast of Vietnam, sitting in the Gulf of Thailand and just a short flight from Ho Chi Minh City. Known for its white-sand beaches, palm trees, and clear waters, it’s Vietnam’s largest island and a popular spot for both backpackers and resort-goers alike. On paper, it sounds like paradise. In reality, it’s a bit more complicated.
After months of non-stop travel around Europe, Southeast Asia, and Australia, I arrived just before Christmas – completely burnt out and desperate for a break. My plan was to spend a month doing as little as possible. And honestly, that’s exactly what I did.
Getting to Phu Quoc: The Luggage Incident
I flew into Phu Quoc from Ho Chi Minh City with VietJet Air for about £30. Delays come practically free with the ticket, so that part didn’t surprise me. What did surprise me was being told to wait by the check-in desk after my luggage had already disappeared down the conveyor belt. No explanation, just a vague hand gesture.
After some confused questioning, I finally got, “Luggage check. If okay, you go.” Which was both reassuring and not. Of course, it turned out fine – apparently, this happens sometimes with VietJet. But for those few minutes, I was fully convinced I was about to get arrested for smuggling sun cream.
Arriving and Settling In: House Geckos and Power Cuts
My Airbnb in Ong Lang was small, clean, and came with house geckos – which are basically Southeast Asia’s answer to house spiders in the UK. I got quite attached to them, so much so that when I found one of the little house geckos trapped and killed in the door, I was devastated. I cried and moped around for an entire day, which I realise makes me sound a bit ridiculous, but there it is.
Power cuts, however, were a different story. At least once a week, the electricity would go out for 12 hours straight. Even if you tried to escape to a café or restaurant, you’d just end up sitting next to a roaring generator. Even on the beach, you could hear them. It’s like trying to relax inside an engine.
The Stray Dogs Incident: A Lesson in Rabies Anxiety
On my first day in Phu Quoc, I set off to find the beach. After wandering around in the heat for far too long, I eventually gave up because every path seemed to end at a resort that wouldn’t let me through. Hot, tired, and slightly defeated, I decided to head back to my Airbnb.
That’s when I ran into them – a pack of stray dogs blocking the narrow path. Now, I’ve got this probably overly irrational fear of getting rabies. I didn’t get my rabies jabs before I left, which, looking back, was a mistake. If you’re planning to travel somewhere with a high risk of rabies, don’t be like me. Get the jabs.
Anyway, the dogs were barking like I’d wandered into their personal garden party uninvited. They definitely weren’t planning to let me pass. Then this man came along and said he’d help me through. Which he did – by waving a stick at the dogs and getting them all riled up. Brilliant.
At that point, I had no choice but to walk through because I had absolutely no idea how to get back to my Airbnb without passing them. So I did the only thing I could: I walked very slowly while they yapped at my heels, fully convinced that one of them was about to bite me and give me rabies. Spoiler: that didn’t happen.
But it did make me spend the first week or so in Phu Quoc absolutely petrified of stray dogs. And Phu Quoc has a lot of stray dogs. Like, everywhere you look, there they are – hanging around beach bars, wandering down streets, eyeing you with that “I own this road” kind of look.
Looking back, it’s almost funny. Almost.
Daily Routine: The Beach, Spring Rolls, and Margaritas
Most days, I’d get up, walk down a quiet street towards the sea, and find a spot to drop my stuff on the beach. For the first time as a solo traveller, I actually felt safe leaving my things on the sand while I swam. The water was perfect – not too hot or soupy, but not too cold either. The further out you swam, the cooler it got. I’d stay out for an hour or so, just floating without a care in the world.
Since my Airbnb only had a mini-fridge (and a loud one at that), I ended up eating out most days. I survived mainly on fresh spring rolls, french fries, and beer, with the occasional tofu banh mi thrown in for variety.
On the way to the beach, I always passed a lady with a tiny street bar selling cocktails. She made the most brilliant margaritas, with just the perfect amount of salt around the rim. I probably got a bit too attached to that street bar, but at that point, a good margarita felt like a lifeline.
K-Mart and the Horror Street
There’s a K-Mart near Ong Lang, which I optimistically assumed might be similar to Thailand’s 7-Eleven. It wasn’t. K-Mart is like a sad, tropical Poundland with less charm and fewer options. Useful for emergency snacks but a bit of a letdown.
Worse than K-Mart was this one particular road nearby lined with little shops displaying tanks crammed with giant live fish and cages full of live chickens. I physically couldn’t walk down that road. This made navigating where I was staying a nightmare. I ended up taking a mile-long detour most days just to avoid it. Practical? No. Necessary for my sanity? Absolutely.
The Cable Car to Hon Thom Island: Paradise Lost
I did one proper touristy thing: took the cable car to Hon Thom Island. The views were stunning – turquoise water, untouched islands, the works. But when I actually landed, it felt like being dropped into a theme park nightmare.
To my shame, I went back a second time with some friends I’d met in Thailand and actually enjoyed it. As much as I hate the whole idea of ruining a paradise island with a theme park, I ended up having a surprisingly fun day.
Phu Quoc’s Struggle with Tourism
Phu Quoc is beautiful – there’s no denying that. But you can also see how it’s being ruined by tourism. There’s this desperate scramble to make money from tourists, with tuk-tuks, souvenir shops, and new resorts springing up everywhere. It feels dirty, a bit commercialised, and just off.
Most people I’ve spoken to feel the same way. They’re glad they visited, but they wouldn’t go back. It’s a bit like watching a paradise get buried under cheap hotels and theme parks.
The Guilt of Solo Travel and Burnout
There’s this guilt that creeps in when you’re a full time solo traveller. My friends back home are working nine-to-fives, and I’m the one they message saying they’re jealous. They see the beaches and the sunsets, but not the part where I sit on those beaches feeling like I’m wasting my money and my time.
It feels almost criminal to be in a place that most people would dream of visiting and not be making the most of it. But the reality is, sometimes you just don’t have the energy to go island-hopping or tick off every excursion. And then comes the guilt – of being in paradise and still wanting to do nothing at all.
Final Thoughts on Phu Quoc
Phu Quoc wasn’t what I’d call paradise, but it did have its moments. The water was perfect, the spring rolls were addictive, and I did manage to recharge – at least a bit. But between the power cuts, stray dogs, and the frantic push for tourism, it’s hard to ignore the cracks.
I wouldn’t go back, but I don’t regret going once. At the very least, I left with a solid tan, a questionable addiction to fresh spring rolls, and some mildly traumatic memories of stray dogs and theme park rides.
Before You Go…
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If you’re interested in Southeast Asia, you might also enjoy my posts about Koh Lanta and Siem Reap.
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