The night before flying standby to Vietnam felt calm on the outside, but inside it was that familiar mix of hope and uncertainty.
There’s something about packing the night before a standby flight that feels different. It’s not the usual excited traveler vibe. It’s quieter. More cautious. Parang ayaw mo masyado ma-hype kasi hindi mo pa sure kung makakasakay ka.
My luggage was half-zipped on the bed. Camera gear charging. Passport inside the same small pocket I always use. I’ve done this before, but every time still feels new.
This was my first time going to Vietnam.
I was flying AUH to Doha, then Doha to Saigon. Standby. Which means technically I have a ticket… but not really. If the flight fills up, you wait. If it fills up again, you adjust. Ganun lang.
I remember standing in my room just looking at the luggage.
Hotels were already booked. Friends were waiting in Saigon. Plans were in place. But staff travel has a way of humbling you. It reminds you that nothing is final until you’re actually seated on the plane.
Still, I wasn’t anxious. Not really.
More like… alert.
The same feeling I had flying to Bangkok before. That small thrill of uncertainty. Parang may extra layer yung trip because you had to earn your way onto the aircraft.
I kept checking the loads one last time before sleeping. Not obsessively. Just enough to calm myself.
Vietnam already felt different in my head. I’ve heard about the chaos of Ho Chi Minh. The motorbikes. The coffee culture. The energy. I wasn’t thinking about tourist spots. I was thinking about sitting somewhere random with a cup of black coffee and just observing.
Cold brew. Plain. No sugar. Same order, different country.
Before closing the luggage, I paused for a second.
There’s something grounding about knowing you’re about to leave your routine again. Airports. Waiting. Immigration lines. New air.
It doesn’t feel dramatic anymore. It just feels necessary.
If I make the flight, good.
If I don’t, I’ll reroute.
Either way, I’ll get there.
And that’s part of the story too.
