Can Solo Travel in Cambodia & Vietnam Feel Like Home?

Finding My Feet: Travelling Solo in Cambodia and Vietnam

After a full-on business trip through Japan, Korea and Thailand, I decided to gift myself something I had not had in weeks: time.

Seven extra days. No meetings, no name badges, no schedules. Just me, my curiosity, and a long-held dream to finally stand in front of Angkor Wat.

This was not my first solo trip, but it was the first time I had stayed in a large resort hotel completely on my own. I will happily talk to anyone in a departure lounge, yet the thought of dining alone in a big, glossy hotel filled me with nerves.

Siem Reap: From Hotel Bar to Real Life Cambodia

I flew from Bangkok to Siem Reap and was met by a private transfer to my hotel in the late afternoon. The check-in was smooth, the lobby impressive, the room perfectly comfortable. I freshened up and made my way down to the bar, determined to ease myself into solo-hotel life.

For an hour or so I sat there, feeling every inch the Shirley Valentine character: alone at the table, making polite small talk with the bar staff who quickly befriended me. They were kind and warm, but as the minutes ticked by my adventurous nature started tapping me on the shoulder.

I had not come all this way just to see “hotel Siem Reap”.

I wanted the real thing: the hum of scooters, the chatter in Khmer, the slightly chaotic, utterly authentic rhythm of an ordinary Cambodian evening.

So, as dusk turned to dark, I did the thing solo travellers know so well: I took a deep breath, ignored the little flicker of fear, and walked out of the safety of the hotel.

I do not speak a single word of Khmer, so there was definitely some trepidation. But almost immediately I felt that rush you only get when you step into the unknown. Street stalls sizzled, families sat outside their homes chatting, children darted in and out of doorways. This was the hustle and bustle I had been longing to see.

I slipped into a small local bar and managed to order a beer, despite a few curious looks. I was very obviously the only woman there, and almost certainly the only solo foreigner. After a couple of moments of discreet stares, everyone drifted back to their own conversations. I was left to quietly sip my drink and absorb the scene.

In that tiny bar, I stopped feeling like a nervous hotel guest and started feeling like a traveller again.

Angkor Wat: Walking Through a Myth

The next day was my long-awaited guided tour of Angkor Wat.

Even after years of seeing it in photographs, nothing prepared me for the impact of walking through that vast, intricate complex. It more than exceeded my expectations. There is something ethereal, almost otherworldly, about wandering among those stones, watching the light shift across carvings that have outlived empires.

At times I genuinely felt as if I had stepped onto a film set. That was not hard to imagine, given the connection to Lara Croft. My guide quickly pointed out the famous banyan tree that featured in the film, its roots spilling dramatically over ancient walls like something from a fantasy novel.

The following day I explored Siem Reap at my own pace, braving the soaring heat to find the Angkor Wat National Museum. It was a beautiful way to add context to what I had seen at the temples, piecing together stories and dynasties that suddenly felt much more real.

Throughout my stay I was acutely aware of Cambodia’s more recent history too. The legacy of the Khmer Rouge still lingers, not least in the ongoing work to find and dispose of land mines. It was sobering and humbling to be in a place where people are still literally clearing the ground beneath their feet, while also welcoming visitors with such grace.

Da Nang & Hoi An: From Resort Outsider to Lantern-lit Belonging

Another short flight and I was in Vietnam, with a private transfer whisking me from the airport to a beach resort near Da Nang. On paper it sounded perfect: sea air, a comfortable room, time to rest and reset.

In reality, my first day and night felt very different.

Resorts are wonderful for many people, but as a solo woman they can sometimes feel like a spotlight. Couples and families moved around in little self-contained units, and I was aware of the curious glances, the quiet nudges and whispers. You can almost hear the internal debate: “Should we invite her to join us?”

No thanks. I was quite happy exactly as I was: reading my book, swimming, listening to music, and revelling in not having to talk to anyone unless I chose to.

On the second evening I took the hotel’s complimentary shuttle into Hoi An, keen to explore the local town. The moment I stepped into the lantern-lit streets, everything shifted.

Suddenly I was part of a flowing crowd: travellers, locals, street vendors, families out for the evening. The air was thick with the smell of food, the sound of laughter, the glow of coloured lanterns reflecting in the river.

I found a small bar with a terrace overlooking the water, ordered a drink and simply sat there, soaking up the scene: the boats drifting by, the lanterns strung overhead, the blend of music and chatter rising from the streets.

This was where I wanted to be. Not in a stuffy hotel lobby feeling like an outsider, but in the heart of a living, breathing town. Here, I felt like I belonged.

A Cooking Class, New Friends, and the Question Everyone Asks

On my third day I joined an authentic Vietnamese cooking experience. We started at a local market, being introduced to herbs, spices and ingredients that are the backbone of Vietnamese cuisine. From there we took a boat ride to a cooking school, where we chopped, stir-fried and rolled our way through a delicious menu.

As often happens on group experiences, the food was only half of it. The other half was the people: fellow travellers from all over the world, each with their own story. I found myself “dining out” on those stories, sharing laughs and anecdotes as we sat down to eat what we had created.

Many of them were fascinated by the idea of me travelling alone as a woman. The question kept coming, in different forms: “But why are you on your own?”

The real question, I think, was “Would you not be lonely or frightened?” For me, the answer that kept bubbling up was simple: no. Liberated, sometimes challenged, occasionally nervous, yes. But lonely and frightened? Not really.

Safety, Nerves and What I Would Do Differently

So what was it actually like to travel alone as a woman in Cambodia and Vietnam?

Was it a little nerve‑wracking at times? Yes, absolutely. Walking out of the hotel alone in Siem Reap after dark, or stepping into a bar where nobody spoke English and I did not speak Khmer, came with a flutter of nerves.

Did I feel safe? For me, in the places I visited and with the choices I made, 100% yes. I used private transfers, booked guided tours for the major sights, trusted my instincts, and avoided putting myself in situations that felt uncomfortable.

Would I travel alone again? Absolutely, without hesitation.

If I did anything differently, it would be my choice of accommodation. I learned that large, polished resorts can sometimes amplify that sense of “otherness” when you are solo, especially in more couple‑ and family‑oriented destinations.

Smaller, locally run hotels, homely guesthouses or characterful boutique properties tend to make it easier to connect with staff and fellow travellers. When you step outside into streets filled with local life rather than into a self‑contained bubble, you feel less like the odd one out and more like a temporary resident.

The Biggest Lesson: Belonging Comes From the Streets, Not the Lobby

The biggest thing I took away from those ten days is this: if you want to feel a sense of belonging as a solo traveller, immerse yourself in the local community rather than hiding in a sterile hotel environment.

It was not the polished lobbies that made me feel safe and connected. It was the street-side bars, the night markets, the museum in the heat of the day, the lantern-lit riverfront in Hoi An, and the shared chopping boards in a Vietnamese cooking class.

I was never met with suspicion by locals. If anything, it was other tourists who seemed more puzzled by the idea of a woman happily eating dinner alone.

Would I Go Back?

In a heartbeat.

I would love to return to Vietnam and discover more of the country beyond Da Nang and Hoi An. I would love to explore more of Cambodia too, but most of all I want to take my husband to see Angkor Wat.

Of all the places I have visited, it remains one of the most intriguing, spiritual and otherworldly sites I have ever experienced. To walk through those ancient corridors again, this time hand in hand, would be incredibly special.

Until then, I will keep encouraging other women who are wondering whether solo travel in Southeast Asia is for them. If you are thoughtful, open‑minded and prepared to step a little outside your comfort zone, Cambodia and Vietnam can be wonderfully welcoming companions on your solo journey.