TRAVEL & EXPERIENCES  ·  DA LAT, VIETNAM

Where to Stay in Da Lat?

Three Stays at Olive Hotel — And Why I Keep Coming Back

Some people are drawn to the sea. Others feel most alive in the mountains. Me? Every time life gets heavy, I find myself pointing north toward Da Lat. Not to tick off a list of trending cafés. Not to chase the perfect Instagram shot. Just to breathe — to breathe air I haven't found anywhere else in the world.

This trip, we were two. Bus booked the afternoon before, on the road by nightfall. It's always the overnight ride — that slow crawl through darkness that means you wake up to cold hands and mountain mist. The first thing we did when we stepped off the bus? Hunt for breakfast. Everything else could wait.

Our hotel this time — and the last two times, actually — was Olive Hotel on Đống Đa Street. Three visits, three different room types, three different reasons to love it. So this time, I figured I'd write it all down properly.

Olive Hotel sits on Đống Đa Street, just a few minutes by motorbike from Da Lat Market and the Hòa Bình district. Close enough to everything, but just far enough from the noise. No thumping music seeping through the walls at midnight. No street traffic jolting you awake at dawn. You get the city and the quiet — at the same time.

I wasn't expecting much when I pulled back the curtains that first night. But there it was: the Vinaphone Tower glowing against the dark sky, and just beside it, the Broadcasting Tower that's been all over social media lately. I stood there for a moment, thinking I'd look for a minute and move on.

We ended up watching for nearly an hour. Nothing dramatic happened — the city just slowly lit up, the wind turned a little colder, and everything became very still. There's also a view of Đống Đa Hill depending on which room you're in. If you want a specific view, ask when you book — it's worth making sure they get it right.

This visit, we splurged on the corner suite at the top of the building. A small kitchen. A private bathtub. Windows that looked out over the hillside and the city below. It was, in a word, too much — in the best possible way.

We had plans to go out for evening coffee, the way we always do. We never made it. Instead, we brewed tea on the balcony, watched the city lights come on one by one, soaked in the tub, and watched a film curled up in bed. My friend laughed and said: "We might as well not even have a city out there." She wasn't wrong.

Olive Hotel covers a range of travel styles, so whoever you're going with, there's likely something that fits:

→  Groups of 3–4, or families with young kids: the family room comes with a small kitchen — handy for simple meals without going out.

→  Travelling light on budget: smaller rooms with a balcony overlooking Đống Đa Hill — peaceful, uncomplicated, exactly what a Da Lat night calls for.

→  Want to treat yourself: the top-floor corner suite with bathtub, kitchen, and panoramic views. It's a proper staycation — you may genuinely not want to leave.

The morning spread isn't overwhelming — it's just right. A quiet mix of Western and Vietnamese dishes, enough to start the day properly. But what I love most is that on weekends, they bring out bánh mì xíu mại and bánh căn — the kind of breakfast that tastes like this city itself. You don't have to wander the streets cold and hungry looking for something local. It's already there, waiting.

I sat by the window one morning, tea warming my hands, mist still clinging to the rooftops outside. I thought: this is it. This is actually it. I don't need anything else.

A few doors from the hotel, there's a small shop selling soy milk. No flashy sign. No crowd. I almost missed it the first time. But I went on a day when Da Lat had dropped into a real cold — the kind that gets into your bones — and before I'd even placed an order, the owner was quietly building a small fire right beside my table for guests to warm their hands.

I ordered hot soy milk, a roasted sweet potato, and a plate of “bánh tráng trộn”. I sat close to the fire, listening to it crackle. Neither of us said much. But I felt genuinely, deeply warm — in a way that had nothing to do with temperature.

It's strange how a moment that small can outweigh every beautiful viewpoint on a trip. But that's Da Lat for you. It's not the scenery that makes you fall in love with it. It's the little things — the kind-hearted, quietly lovely little things — that make you want to come back.

· · ·

A cold morning.

A balcony facing the city lights.

A breakfast still steaming.

A small fire at a soy milk shop on a quiet street.

Maybe in a few months, I'll find myself heading back up.

And when I do, there's a good chance I'll book the same hotel.