@chinhmup: Buổi chiều ở Trà Vinh, bờ kè Trà Mẹt đẹp đến nao lòng #chinhmup #travinh84 #hoanghon

Tố Trinh
Tố Trinh
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Region: VN
Saturday 02 May 2026 11:09:04 GMT
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myxuyen260998
❤️ Mĩii Xuiênn ❤️ :
Ủa alo Trà Mẹt hả sốp?🤣
2026-05-04 05:24:17
2
huynhgianghung
Huỳnh Giang Hưng :
Đẹp thiệt hôn đó
2026-05-12 10:16:07
1
xienlun484
Cẩm Xuyên 🌻 :
Nó thơ mà nó đãaaaa
2026-05-03 12:54:07
1
letuankha2003
Lê Tuấn Kha :
trà đét nha 🥲
2026-05-19 02:33:50
0
trangtran070393
Tờ Rang (rì diu mọi thứ 🧐) :
Đẹp thật 🥰
2026-05-02 15:11:05
1
phuongvy2312
Trần Nguyễn Phương Vy :
đẹp dị má oi
2026-05-02 12:36:09
1
yoriichi1205
Neih :
Đang ở đó luôn
2026-05-12 11:18:15
0
bebap84tv
☘️Gấu☘️ :
ủa sao đổi tên xốm của toai ròy
2026-05-11 22:06:30
0
nhu_y_vu
Như Ý Nè 🌻 :
Đẹp dị má
2026-05-02 16:50:13
1
iam.tdiii
Di Di Di :
Ủa sốp ơi , sốp ghim trà đét mà sốp ghi trà mẹt dị , rốt cục là trà nàooooo
2026-05-02 11:52:57
1
phuongquyenyeuvietnam
NYC anh thương nhất 🫀 :
2026-05-03 15:24:03
2
thach_ngan1
Thủy Ngân :
đẹp quá
2026-05-02 14:15:49
1
vodanhtv85
VINH TV :
tháng 1 tháng 2 Mặt Trời còn nằm bên nầy 🤭
2026-05-03 14:08:54
1
quocanh18.2
Trần Thị Gấm :
2026-05-10 13:13:22
0
bao.loantv
Ng. T. Thúy Loan🖤 :
🥰🥰
2026-07-21 15:21:17
1
my40413
Mây :
bình yên...
2026-07-28 16:08:00
0
ntn_22t8
𝙽. :
2026-05-10 09:00:34
1
vodanhtv85
VINH TV :
2026-05-03 14:07:58
1
t.tng7930
T T :
🥰🥰🥰
2026-05-02 18:25:56
1
ng_.khoa._.tv_vl
Đăng_ khoa _ TV_VL :
🥰🥰🥰
2026-05-30 23:18:14
0
thanhtungtv851508
Thanh Tùng :
💙💙
2026-05-03 01:36:34
0
hao110566
浩Hào🐼 :
😍😍😍
2026-06-04 04:46:26
1
To see more videos from user @chinhmup, please go to the Tikwm homepage.

Other Videos

Did you ever climb a hill just to breathe? Just to let the silence punch you in the gut and remind you you’re still alive? Up in the Apuseni, somewhere past the last bark of a sheepfold dog and before the edge of reason, there’s a barn that has given up on impressing anyone. The wood peels like sunburnt skin, its beams bend like tired men. It’s not picturesque. It’s not curated. It just is. But then there’s that swing—still tied to the tree like a secret never told. It hangs there, stubborn, creaking when the wind remembers to push it. A monument to a childhood that maybe wasn’t yours, but you can feel in your teeth. These hills don’t whisper; they accuse. Of forgetting. Of leaving. Of paving over stories with concrete and hashtags. Țara Moților isn’t a fairy tale, it’s a poem. A beautiful, wild, necessary poem. The land breathes like a sleeping beast, and deep beneath it, bones and ice and handprints older than history remind us we weren’t the first to cry here. The Apuseni caves don’t echo—they swallow. Villages cling to ridges like dried blood, and old women still make bread without looking at recipes. Time here doesn’t pass—it ferments. Why do we always seek the polished, the filtered, the easy? When did we start calling ruins ugly and forget they’re just survivors without makeup? That swing, that barn, that hill—they’re not waiting for you. They’re not here to make you feel better. But maybe, just maybe, if you sit on that swing and close your eyes, something buried might stir. Do you still remember what made you laugh as a child? When was the last time you truly missed something you never had? Video by @giani_frentz  [Apuseni Mountains, Țara Moților, Rustic Solitude, Abandoned Barns, Forgotten Childhoods, Carpathian Silence, Romanian Wilderness, Mountain Memories, Traditional Heritage, Ancient Caves, Nature’s Wrath, Weathered Wood, Lonely Swings, Village Remnants, Ice Caves, Spiritual Geography, Stark Beauty, Fermented Time, Rural Emotions, Ancestral Echoes] #romania #travel #apuseni #rawplaces
Did you ever climb a hill just to breathe? Just to let the silence punch you in the gut and remind you you’re still alive? Up in the Apuseni, somewhere past the last bark of a sheepfold dog and before the edge of reason, there’s a barn that has given up on impressing anyone. The wood peels like sunburnt skin, its beams bend like tired men. It’s not picturesque. It’s not curated. It just is. But then there’s that swing—still tied to the tree like a secret never told. It hangs there, stubborn, creaking when the wind remembers to push it. A monument to a childhood that maybe wasn’t yours, but you can feel in your teeth. These hills don’t whisper; they accuse. Of forgetting. Of leaving. Of paving over stories with concrete and hashtags. Țara Moților isn’t a fairy tale, it’s a poem. A beautiful, wild, necessary poem. The land breathes like a sleeping beast, and deep beneath it, bones and ice and handprints older than history remind us we weren’t the first to cry here. The Apuseni caves don’t echo—they swallow. Villages cling to ridges like dried blood, and old women still make bread without looking at recipes. Time here doesn’t pass—it ferments. Why do we always seek the polished, the filtered, the easy? When did we start calling ruins ugly and forget they’re just survivors without makeup? That swing, that barn, that hill—they’re not waiting for you. They’re not here to make you feel better. But maybe, just maybe, if you sit on that swing and close your eyes, something buried might stir. Do you still remember what made you laugh as a child? When was the last time you truly missed something you never had? Video by @giani_frentz [Apuseni Mountains, Țara Moților, Rustic Solitude, Abandoned Barns, Forgotten Childhoods, Carpathian Silence, Romanian Wilderness, Mountain Memories, Traditional Heritage, Ancient Caves, Nature’s Wrath, Weathered Wood, Lonely Swings, Village Remnants, Ice Caves, Spiritual Geography, Stark Beauty, Fermented Time, Rural Emotions, Ancestral Echoes] #romania #travel #apuseni #rawplaces

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