Story: Thu Huong
Photos: Thuan Bui
Take the road less traveled to Lan Nong – a “Net Zero village” within the UNESCO Global Geopark in Lang Son.
Amid layers of limestone mountains, a small village is hidden behind sheer cliffs, where mist lingers on stilt-house roofs and the wind slips through mountain crevices like a whisper. For more than a century, this Nung community has quietly preserved its simple way of life, and is only now beginning to welcome visitors.
This is Lan Nong – a destination often referred to as a “Net Zero village” within the UNESCO Global Geopark landscape of Lang Son.
From the center of Cai Kinh Commune, the trip to Lan Nong cannot be rushed. The journey takes nearly two hours, winding through forested slopes and rocky inclines. In some sections, one must climb steep paths, gripping stone to navigate uneven terrain. Phone maps offer little help – the signal fades in and out, and intersections lack clear markers. Instead, travelers rely on the memory of local guides, simple roadside hints, and even birdsong echoing from wooded hillsides.
When the road ends, a few more kilometers must be walked. Arriving at the village feels like crossing a threshold – on the other side lies a slower rhythm of life and a community that retains its original character.
Lan Nong is so quiet that one can hear the mountains breathe. Untouched by city noise, the village unfolds in shades of green across rocky slopes and forested valleys. Just thirteen houses appear through the mist, thin trails of kitchen smoke rising briefly before dissolving into the cool, damp air.
Traditional wooden stilt houses remain intact. At night, light is carefully rationed – oil lamps, candles, and a few small solar panels provide just enough illumination. Evening meals carry a particular warmth: people gather around the fire, conversations linger, and time itself seems to slow.
Life here awakens early – roosters crow, wood smoke drifts, and the scent of upland sticky rice rides the breeze. When the sun rises, golden rays brush moss-covered tiles and dark green canopies. By late afternoon, the air carries the scent of damp soil, decaying leaves, and flowing streams – the unmistakable “smell of the mountains,” familiar and quietly memorable. At night, moonlight spills into the valley, and the small village rests in a calm that gently settles the heart.
The absence of phones and internet does not diminish life in Lan Nong; instead, it restores older forms of connection – calling to one another across the village, gathering for communal activities, sitting by the fire to talk. This restrained, nature-aligned lifestyle is why Lan Nong is described as a “Net Zero village”: modest consumption, minimal emissions, and daily habits rooted in harmony with the environment.
Since a new access road was built, Lan Nong is no longer completely hidden in the mountains. More visitors are arriving, and the village stands at a new crossroads: developing community-based tourism while preserving its raw, unspoiled character.
Residents dream of welcoming guests with authenticity – bowls of vegetable soup harvested from hillside gardens, cups of corn wine fermented with forest leaves by the fire, stories of ancestors who founded the village more than a century ago. They hope visitors will discover that in Lang Son, there remains a place both simple and deeply valuable – where houses, smiles, streams, and footpaths all carry the memory of the land.
Amid the rush of modern life, Lan Nong feels like a pause. A short trek along the mountainside, a night in a traditional stilt house, a meal of forest vegetables, free-range chicken, and corn wine – sometimes these are enough to experience rest in its truest sense. And when leaving, what lingers in memory is rarely something grand, but rather the villagers’ gentle warmth, drifting clouds over mountain peaks, and moonlight pouring into a misty valley.
This “Net Zero village” in the wilderness suggests a path toward sustainable development built upon what already exists – landscape, culture, and community strength. That story will remain beautiful only if it continues to be written with respect – respect for local rhythms, for nature, and for the limits of the land itself.
