At 85, she rides 70 km by bus every day… just for a cup of coffee ☕

Yesterday morning, I woke up early and caught the 6 a.m. bus to Hội An.

Barely had I settled into my seat when a clear, gentle singing voice floated from behind. For a moment, I thought it must be some young girl adding a little poetry to the morning.

I turned around… and found an elderly lady.

Without thinking, I said,

“You sing beautifully. You must have been a singer?”

She smiled, calm and matter-of-fact:

“I was. Singer Hồng Phượng…”

A brief pause, then she added:

“Thái Hồng Phượng.”

She had a charming face, and a bright, effortless smile. I thought to myself—back in her day, she must have made quite a few hearts skip a beat.

In conversation, I learned she is now 85.

Every day, she takes the earliest bus to Hội An. Every few days, she changes the route for a bit of variety—Tam Kỳ, Trà My, Tiên Phước… just to have coffee, wander around until about 2 p.m., then catch a bus home.

A schedule that sounds like something out of a seasoned backpacker’s life.

She lives in Nam Ô. In the morning, she takes a Grab bike—about 50,000 VND—then the bus, another 30,000. Altogether, around 160,000 VND a day for transport, not counting coffee or meals.

The driver, overhearing the story, laughed and confirmed:

“She’s a regular. I see her every day.”

I joked,

“If the bus company won’t make it free, at least the driver should waive the fare for such a VIP!”

She smiled kindly, but replied with quiet firmness:

“I can pay my way. No need for free rides.”

And just like that, I felt… completely outplayed, with no comeback ready.

She talked quite a bit—perhaps a little absent-minded at times—but every sentence carried its own charm, its own humor.

Halfway through the journey… silence.

She had fallen asleep at some point—peaceful, at ease—as if this daily trip were simply part of the rhythm of a long, well-lived life.

My friend and I got off near the junction by Cửa Đại Bridge.

She continued on, heading to the boat station, then back into the old town… for coffee.

I leaned over and said softly to my friend:

“Eighty-five and still in that kind of form—that’s rare.

Today, do we cycle all the way home and risk collapsing… or take the bus and play it safe?”

And thinking about it…

Maybe life doesn’t need grand ambitions.

Maybe it’s enough that each day, you still feel like going somewhere—

and still have the appetite to sit down and enjoy a proper cup of coffee. ☕

—

March 25, 2026