loc nuoc dau nguon


  

On a morning in late spring and early summer, when the sky was still wet with night dew, my school’s sightseeing convoy began to move. Cars full of laughter glided across the bridge across the peaceful, “clear” Day River, then continued on Highway 1. In the distance, behind the mist, the Non Nuoc mountain range appeared as beautiful as a picture. landscape paintings We all feel nervous because although we have heard the sound for a long time, no one has ever set foot in this land of flags and cleans before. eyes eagerly, waiting.