Adventure

The first stamp: taking my parents abroad,
and why it was Vietnam

The first stamp: taking my parents abroad, and why it was Vietnam
Ananya Kapoor Lead Experience Designner
4 min read
June 15, 2026

My father is 67 and had never needed a passport. He got one, finally, because I work in travel and the irony was becoming a family joke. Then the passport sat in the Godrej almirah for two years, pristine, while every plan dissolved into “next year, definitely”. Last year I stopped asking and simply booked Vietnam. The morning we landed in Hanoi, he stood at the immigration counter holding his passport with both hands, the way you hold a certificate. The officer stamped it. My mother took a photograph of the stamp before we had left the airport.

If you are planning that first trip for your own parents, the destination is the whole decision. Here is why Vietnam keeps winning that argument.

Why is Vietnam a good first foreign trip for Indian parents?

Vietnam is close, gentle and affordable. Flights from Indian metros take four to five hours, the e-visa is a simple online application, and journeys start around ₹60,000 per person for five nights. Indian food is easy to find, the pace can be kept slow, and Halong Bay gives them one guaranteed lifetime memory.

Notice what is not on that list: nightlife, trekking, fourteen-hour days. First trips with parents are not about maximising the country. They are about maximising their confidence.

The route we design covers Hanoi, Da Nang and Ho Chi Minh City, and its genius for parents is variety without exhaustion. Hanoi gives them the classic postcard — the Old Quarter’s 36 ancient streets, a cyclo ride my mother initially called “unnecessary drama” and then refused to end, egg coffee that she has since attempted at home twice with mixed results. Da Nang gives them ease: a clean beachfront city, the Ba Na Hills cable car rising through cloud to the Golden Bridge held up by two giant stone hands, and Hoi An in the evening, where my parents lit a paper lantern and set it on the river and did not say anything for a while, and neither did I.

And Halong Bay gives them the story they will tell at every wedding for a decade. Two thousand limestone islands standing out of green water. We did a day cruise with lunch on board; the boat moved slowly enough that my father, who distrusts boats on principle, spent the afternoon at the rail pointing at karsts and naming them after relatives.

Now, the practical craft of parent-proofing a trip, learned through trial and error — mostly my error.

Food first, always. My parents will try anything once and then want dal. Vietnam made this easy: Indian restaurants exist in every city on the route, pho can be ordered vegetarian if you ask properly (the default broth often is not — have your guide confirm), and fresh fruit is everywhere. We build Indian dinners into parent itineraries on alternate nights. It is not culinary cowardice. It is knowing your travellers.

Pace second. One anchor activity per day. Mornings out, afternoons flexible, dinner unhurried. The single best thing I did was build a nothing-afternoon into Da Nang — my parents napped, walked the beach at five, and called it their favourite day.

Small things that matter more than they should: a laminated card with the hotel’s name in Vietnamese for taxi drivers; their medicines in original strips with a doctor’s letter; a power bank, because parents photograph everything including menus; and crossing roads in Hanoi, which deserves its own paragraph.

Because here is the honest caveat: Hanoi traffic is a river of scooters that does not stop, and the local technique — walk slowly, steadily, predictably, and let the scooters flow around you — is genuinely alarming the first three times. My mother crossed her first Hanoi street gripping my elbow like it was the railing of a sinking ship. By day three she was doing it alone. But if either parent has mobility issues, this, and Vietnam’s general fondness for stairs, needs planning around — tell your curator upfront and we will route the trip accordingly.

The thing nobody tells you about travelling with parents is that the roles quietly reverse and then, unexpectedly, reverse again. I handled the visas and the taxis. But in the Cu Chi tunnels museum, it was my father who explained the history of 1968 to me, carefully, from memory, because he had lived through the newspapers of it.

Our Vietnam journey is built exactly for this trip — five to six nights, three cities, parent-paced on request. If your family wants mountains and monasteries instead of coastlines, our Bhutan journey is the other first-trip we recommend without hesitation.

Tell us who is travelling — ages, knees, dietary non-negotiables, all of it. The almirah passport deserves better than another quiet year.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ananya Kapoor

Lead Experience Designner
A passionate travel storyteller at PicknicGo, dedicated to crafting experiences that resonate long after the journey ends.
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