The great mountain is shrouded in mist as we wait below for the master.

In Quang Ninh Province, northeast Vietnam, the dense pine forest is thick with fog, and wind chimes dangling from temple-side trees are whipped into a chatter.

These inclement conditions weren’t quite what we had hoped for on arrival in Yen Tu, the country’s sacred heartland.

At 1068m above sea level, Yen Tu stands tall both physically and metaphorically — it is the highest peak in the Dong Trieu range and the spiritual cradle of Vietnamese Zen Buddhism.

Seven centuries ago, a king abdicated his throne to seek enlightenment here. (More on this later.)

Millions of pilgrims ascend Yen Tu mountain every year to reach a revered bronze pagoda at the summit, and our group’s original plan was to follow in their footsteps under the guidance of a local monk.

However, it seems Mother Nature would like us to instead experience one of the cornerstones of Buddhism, firsthand.

Impermanence.

Of course.

In his final words, the Buddha emphasised that everything is changeable; a truth seasoned travellers are all-too familiar with.

Harsh winds have temporarily forced closure of the scenic cable car that runs up the cliffside, so we pivot.

Rather than go up the mountain to see the monk, the monk will come down to see us.

The Enlightened King

The master finds us in the lobby of our hotel, Legacy Yen Tu — MGallery, his saffron robes a bright beacon against the grey sky outside.

Through a translator, he is introduced to us as Thich Truc Tu Kien.

Thich, the surname taken by ordained Vietnamese monastics. Truc, for the Zen Buddhist tradition he follows. Tu, the mountain. And Kien, which he says is “seeing with the mind”.

We are shepherded into a cavernous, ornate hall adjoining the hotel, Truc Lam Palace, which holds up to 7000 people for religious festivals, and Tu Kien invites us up to a platform adorned with gilded statues and lotus flowers.

Together, we sit, and he tells us about the “Buddha Enlightened King” who set down his riches to found Vietnam’s first indigenous Zen Buddhist sect, Truc Lam, in the 13th century.

Emperor Tran Nhan Tong (1258-1308) was just 20 when he ascended the throne, swiftly becoming a national hero after leading Vietnam to victory against two Mongol invasions.

Then he took a radical turn: he handed over power to his son, withdrew from the court and retreated to Yen Tu to devote himself to spiritual practice, renouncing the trappings of imperial luxury to live as an ascetic.

As the legend goes, Tran Nhan Tong was still surrounded by his royal concubines when he reached a stream at the mountain’s base — a natural threshold said to mark the entry into Buddha’s world.

The emperor urged the women to return home, but, as a final and tragic sign of loyalty, many drowned themselves in the water.

Yen Tu’s isolation served as a contemplative space for Tran Nhan Tong to develop a form of Buddhism for the Vietnamese people, combining Chinese and Indian Buddhist lineages with local traditions and beliefs.

Truc Lam Zen Buddhism endures today, emphasising mindfulness, compassion and the potential for enlightenment within everyday life.

And Yen Tu was officially inscribed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site just last year, anchoring the king’s legacy firmly in the present.

No mud, no lotus

As Tu Kien recounts this story via the translator, I notice how a sense of tranquil softness seems to radiate from him.

How rare an experience to share space with someone who has dedicated their life to the pursuit of a higher purpose.

Tu Kien was 20 when he became a monk. After 25 years of studying Zen Buddhism, he now teaches others how to meditate and has methods to meet students wherever they are. Even the more resistant ones.

“Our minds are always like a monkey,” Tu Kien says.

“We are not focused, not stable. So meditation helps our mind become more calm, more clear.

“When we can see everything more clearly, our wisdom is bigger and we can solve our problems more easily.”

I ask the master what he wishes we will take from our time with him when we return to our normal lives.

He says we must remember we cannot rely on plans. Nothing is fixed.

Of course — today’s weather was a timely reminder of this truth.

“One of the laws (of Buddhism) is that everything is impermanent,” Tu Kien says.

“Nothing stays the same. Even our body, it will be dead someday. But our mind, our mind lasts forever.

“If we want to be happy in this life, if we want to be joyful, if we want to be peaceful, we need to practise coming back inside to ourselves.”

It’s usual for Tu Kien to meditate for two hours a day, but he can go longer.

Occasionally he falls asleep in the morning — he flashes a cheeky grin when saying this — but sitting in the cross-legged lotus pose, with each foot on the opposite thigh, keeps him upright and stable even if he drifts off.

The lotus. Hundreds of them surround us on the palace’s walls as the ultimate symbol of enlightenment; fragrant flowers emerging from wet soil.

The saying “no mud, no lotus” was made popular by another Vietnamese monk, Thich Nhat Hanh, underscoring the idea that suffering is often necessary to experience true happiness.

Tu Kien wishes for us to be like the lotus, even on our darkest days. Because of our darkest days.

“In the world of every complicated thing, he is still like a dragon,” the translator remarks.

Releasing all bindings

By now, the skies have cleared enough for us to gamble with the mountain.

Accompanied by Tu Kien, we walk the same path taken by Emperor Tran Nhan Tong and it’s not long before we reach Suoi Giai Oan, the Stream of Release, where the imperial concubines drowned.

I spare a thought for these women and their sacrifice as we cross a bridge over the water.

After their deaths, the king held a ceremony to absolve their spirits and release all bindings keeping them tethered to this world.

He oversaw the construction of a temple in their honour above the stream, which was eventually replaced with the Pagoda of Release that stands at the site today surrounded by centuries-old fruit trees: jackfruit, mango, lychee.

We light incense as Tu Kien prays in front of a gnarled fig tree where a Vietnamese scholar once claimed to see Tran Nhan Tong’s ghost.

I wonder if the fig is the emperor’s way of standing watch over the women he loved for all eternity.

This is where Tu Kien will leave us.

Again, I’m struck by the specialness of spending time with a monk — there is a quality to his presence that seems to settle something within me.

As the master departs, I notice the mist, too, has settled.

+ Jessie Stoelwinder was a guest of BestPrice Travel. They have not influenced this story, or read it before publication.

Fact file

+ Yen Tu is about three hours from Hanoi or 90 minutes from Halong Bay by private car.

+ BestPrice Travel has two tour options to experience the mountain, including transfers, accommodation, meals, guide and activities.

+ Mindful North Vietnam: Hanoi to Sacred Yen Tu Mountain is four days, departing from and returning to Hanoi. Prices are from $827 per person.

+ One Journey — Two Heritages: Spiritual Yen Tu to Majestic Halong Bay is six days and includes a luxury overnight cruise on Halong Bay. Prices are from $1900 per person.

+ For those seeking a deeper spiritual connection, BestPrice Travel can arrange for a local monk to accompany your group for an additional surcharge. The price for a group of up to 20 guests is around $1147. It’s worth booking well in advance and avoiding religious festivals, like Lunar New Year.

+ For further details, contact BestPrice Travel bestpricetravel.com