After more than 540km driving along expressways (Hồ Chí Minh City - Long Thành - Dầu Giây - Phan Thiết - Vĩnh Hảo - Cam Lâm) and National Highway (1A), we arrived in Tuy Hòa (the capital of former Phú Yên) just as the sun reached its zenith. Far from the noisy hustle and bustle, the land of yellow flowers on green grass welcomed us with parched sunlight, the briny scent of the ocean, and the rustic smiles of its inhabitants.

Where nature, history, and memory converge

We first stopped at Tháp Nghinh Phong (Bình Kiến ward, Đắc Lắk province), located next to the beach square. Inspired by Gành Đá Đĩa and the legend of “The Dragon and the Fairy” two tower columns of varying heights rise in the middle of the windy square as an affirmation of national unity. The sound of the wind between the columns impressed me most. As sea breezes blow through the gap between the two towers, they create unique natural melodies - sometimes deep, sometimes echoing like a call from the ocean. Standing in the square, watching the sunlight turn the hexagonal stone blocks into gold, I felt the intense vitality of a developing city that still retains its soul and the distinct flavor of the central Vietnamese sea and sky.

Leaving the beach square, we sought to explore the past at Tháp Nhạn (Tuy Hòa ward) - a Chăm tower built in the 12th century, perched atop Núi Nhạn by the Đà Rằng river. Ranked as a Special National Monument since 2018,. I stood for a long time admiring the carvings on the tower body, marvelling at the skillful hands of ancient Chăm-pa artisans. Without cement or modern adhesives, those bricks have remained tightly bonded through hundreds of years of storms. Amidst the incense and silence, I felt my heart settle as if listening to stories that never grow old.

When mentioning Phú Yên, many immediately recall the movie I See Yellow Flowers on the Green Grass, filmed in Bãi Xép (Tuy An Nam commune). The red dirt road leading up the grassy hill opens into a vast space where the green of the grass blends with the yellow of wildflowers and the endless blue of the sea. The wind carries the taste of salt, blowing through every blade of grass. Standing on the hill, looking down at the curving beach, I saw before me not just beauty, but a rare peace. No sound of engines, no dense resorts - only wind, waves, and the sea. Here, time slows down - enough for people to listen to themselves.

Not far away lies Gành Đá Đĩa (Tuy An Đông commune) - a unique geologic feature formed from volcanic activity millions of years ago, with hexagonal basalt columns stacked together to create an extraordinary natural structure. Under the sunlight, the rocks glow with a powerful black hue, contrasting with the blue of the ocean. This space makes one clearly feel the greatness of nature and the smallness of oneself.

Hidden in a peaceful countryside is Nhà thờ Mằng Lăng (Tuy An Đông commune) - one of the oldest churches in Việt Nam. With its ancient Gothic architecture, moss-covered walls, and tranquil atmosphere, it has become a special stop for those who love history and culture. In the church’s small basement, we saw with our own eyes the first book written in the national script (chữ Quốc ngữ) compiled by Father Alexandre de Rhodes. An old nun smiled when she saw us - a simple smile, yet enough to make one feel truly welcome.

The journey continued to Mũi Điện (Hòa Xuân commune) - one of the first places to greet the sun on the Vietnamese mainland. The road leading to the lighthouse winds steeply, challenging the traveller. But as the sun gradually emerges from the horizon, all exhaustion vanishes. Light spreads across the sea, dyeing the space gold; the wind blows stronger, carrying the breath of a new day. From an altitude of 110m above sea level, Vịnh Môn appears like a strip of green silk hugging the white sand. Further out looms the infinite ocean, where the sky and the sea meet at the horizon. Standing here, a sense of pride in maritime sovereignty and the beauty of the nation surges in one's chest.

Vịnh Vũng Rô and the Relic of the Numberless Ships (Hòa Xuân commune) made our last stop. Vịnh Vũng Rô has the beauty of a landscape painting with calm waters surrounded by majestic mountain ranges. However, during the resistance war against the U.S., this place served as a landing point for numberless ships transporting weapons to support the south. The blue sea here sits above  the youth of those who lay down beneath the ocean for national independence. A local fisherman said: “This sea is beautiful, but it has also witnessed much loss”.

When tourism becomes a connection

Leaving the coast, our journey headed toward Đồng village in Phú Mỡ commune - home to a Ba Na ethnic village nestled in the high mountains. The winding dirt road leads A landscape painting to simple stilt houses with no stable phone signal and none of the familiar urban amenities.

The people here mainly work in agriculture and forestry, so life remains difficult. We also visited a small school site. Despite the lack of facilities, the children's eyes still sparkled with a passion for learning. Small projects like clean water systems, community libraries, or sustainable livelihood models can create long-lasting changes.

Sitting on the porch of a stilt house, chatting with the locals, I realized: tourism can mean more than, going to the sea, climbing mountains, or standing before natural wonders. It also involves a journey to understand, to share, and to love: just as this 4-day, 3-night journey in the land of yellow flowers on green grass taught me how to love the sincerity of people, the sturdiness of stone, and the tolerance of the sea.

As the bus left Phú Yên, I looked back one last time to see wind on the ocean,  and the mountains in the silent distance, unchanged. But something inside me had changed while in the land of yellow flowers on green grass is not just a destination. It is a memory. A promise to return. I knew I would return.

PHAN PHUC THIEN
Vietnam Destination Review - Special Issue No. 1 (May 2026)