While many hotels in Vietnam claim to be eco-friendly, a picky traveller went out 40 kilometres north of Nha Trang, to find a true paradise.

A recent upper class travel magazine said that if you aren’t booked into the Ana Mandara Resort in Nha Trang then the town isn’t worth staying in.

After two days in a much cheaper hotel, I saw their point.

Thankfully, a friend called me to say she was staying at Jungle Beach Resort, describing it as a “hippy commune next to the best beach in Vietnam”, just 40 minutes drive from where I was.

When I tried to ring Sylvio, the French Canadian manager and owner of the “resort”, the number was busy, and when I finally did get through he said there were no huts available.

If this was such an untouched paradise, then how did everyone know about it, I thought. 

Fifteen minutes later he called back and said, “You are really lucky, we have a vacant hut”. 

The definition of resort is subject to opinion, but usually in Vietnam a resort means a boutique five-star hotel that has just enough facilities to keep guests from venturing outside.

The Jungle Beach Resort is something different altogether.

After a 40-minute drive, through numerous small seaside villages where small children would follow our taxi waving, we arrived at the resort, where we were greeted by Sylvio and his Vietnamese wife.

“There is only one rule, and that is to make yourself at home,” said Sylvio.

The resort, situated at the base of a forested hill yet only metres from the beach, blended in perfectly with its surrounds. The grounds looked like one big garden, with dogs, cats and children running after each other between the guests dozing in the numerous hammocks that dotted the landscape.

 

Our “beachside hut”, was a bit of wood on stilts, and nothing else, which was exactly what we were looking for.

 

“Well we wanted to get back to nature,” I said to my partner.

 

While five star “huts” come equipped with spa baths, cable TV and air conditioning, our hut had a family of crabs and another kind of air conditioning - it didn’t have any doors. It was certainly eco - (perhaps bed bug) friendly.

 

Just metres away from our hut was a long sandy beach, perfect for laying about and the customary beach cricket. The resort supplies surf and body boards, as well as a soccer ball which soon found popularity with the other guests.

 

After a few more hours of doing nothing inparticular, a few of us trekked to the small waterfall, which was the local hangout spot for the village children.

 

 

Later that day, when all the guests sat around a communal table awaiting their dinner (all three meals are included in the price), I told Sylvio I was a journalist interested in doing a story on Jungle Beach. 

 

“No. No more stories”, he said with a pained expression.

 

“Why?” I asked.

 

“Because we are always full. We are in the Lonely Planet Guide book and a French and German one as well. I am getting sick of turning people away”.

 

At first I was annoyed that a seemingly untouched paradise could be found in mass produced guidebooks, but I realised that the small size of the place would probably maintain

... there is a hut...

 a ‘hidden gem’ type feel.

 

Also Sylvio seemed to be more interested in providing a basic relaxing experience rather than expanding and cashing in on the location he had, for which I and other long term guests (some had stayed for over two months) were grateful.

 

For the next five days I read three novels, drank two bottles of Dalat red wine, ate far too much, and met other travellers who just like me, reveled in finding paradise.

 

Story and photos by Chris Canty.