Vietnam: Chasing tranquility and chaos from north to south
I recently returned from two weeks in Vietnam, an amount of time that was “not enough” according to the hotel manager who greeted us on our first day, and an “interesting choice” for a honeymoon, per friends and family. Vietnam is often just a brief stop on the Southeast Asia circuit popular with Western travelers. But unsurprisingly, that hotel manager was right – even two weeks left us wishing we had more time.
Hanoi: A chaotic symphony
Our journey began in Hanoi’s Old Quarter, a dense tangle of overgrown vines, beeping vehicles, and beckoning street food. Scooters dominate here, each one loaded with everything from whole families, squished together butt to crotch, to 10-foot piles of swaying stacks of goods—fresh bread, pottery, or live goldfish. They completely pack the streets, and without streetlights or stop signs, the perpetual onslaught of vehicles moves as a swarm, communicating with each other through constant horn beeps. The rules are simple: beep when you’re passing someone, beep when you’re turning, beep when another scooter is approaching you, and when in doubt, just beep. Emblematic of the pulse of life in Hanoi, it’s pure mayhem but miraculously functional, if not hard on the ears.
As a pedestrian, crossing the street is a high-stakes game of Frogger. One must step slowly off the curb and make their way forward in a straight line, never running and never turning back. Confidence creates a force field that causes the oncoming traffic to flow around you without slowing down. The first time you do it, it feels insane, but the charade becomes second nature in no time.
On the sidewalks, it’s always mealtime. Street vendors chop poached chicken for pho ga or deep fry vermicelli-filled spring rolls, their makeshift kitchens spilling onto the pavement. Beside them, heat-sedated patrons squat on colorful plastic stools, sipping fresh beer from kegs alongside ambitious snacks. Cafe culture abounds, and at all times of day, you can join locals crouched al fresco on low-slung chairs to enjoy an egg coffee: a creamy caffeinated beverage where strong percolated coffee is topped with whipped frothy egg yolk and condensed milk.
Each block has its own niche theme of commerce. One might specialize in obscure lightbulbs, another in industrial paper cutters, and another in plastic scooter ponchos – bizarre but enterprising, as even the most random-seeming shops are always busy.
Hanoi exists on its own terms, quaint in its chaos and humming with energy. Here, you could spend an entire day circling the same block and discover something new on every loop.
Where to stay: Peridot Grand Luxury Boutique Hotel (grand indeed, centrally located, yet tucked away from the chaos, a prime example of how far your tourist dollars can go in Vietnam)
Where to eat: Phở Gà Nguyệt ($0.50 bowls loaded with fresh rice noodles, poached chicken, and a smattering of herbs – the breakfast of champions), Bun Cha Dac Kim (not Obama’s spot, but also in the Michelin guide and much less swamped – this is the place to try the Hanoi specialty), Ngoặm (a millennial burger project with craft beer – much cooler and worthwhile than it sounds!)
Where to drink: Nê Cocktail bar (in a hilariously dense party area and home to the famed ‘pho cocktail’), Wong Wine Bar (a hard to find, minuscule and “In The Mood For Love” themed wine bar where you’re sure to make friends), Longer Than a Summer (even harder to find, but worth the effort—if only to experience the height of pretension in this speakeasy with many rules and a strong local following)
Foods to try:
Pho Ga (chicken rice-noodle soup, best enjoyed early in the morning on the sidewalk)
Bun Cha (grilled slivers of pork in broth, served with lettuce wraps)
Egg Coffee (strong coffee topped with whipped egg yolk and condensed milk)
Banh Cuon (steamed rice rolls filled with umami-ful meat granules)
Sapa: A misty mountain hideaway
Next, we headed to Sapa, a misty and chilly hideaway where agriculture and microculture merge among mountainous rice terraces in the country's northwest. While many recommend getting there via the “luxury overnight train,” we opted for a group van arranged by our hotel– easier on sleep, if less novel. This last minute transportation arrangement was a prime example of Vietnam’s tightly knit network of tourist services that exists largely on community connection. Whether you need a ride, a scooter rental, a tailored suit, or laundry services, the answer is always yes, and the person on the other side of the Whatsapp thread you were added to becomes a friend in no time.
After a long and windy drive, arriving at Sapa Clay House was sweet relief. We were greeted with a fizzy fermented drink and shown to our room, complete with mountain views, local textile decorations, and a deep cedar soaking tub. By early November, the rice harvest was ending, leaving the terraces golden from afar but less spectacular up close. As a worthwhile consolation, we were graced with many interactions with wandering water buffalo, set free by their owners during this time of year to graze the neighbor’s unwanted harvest.
Hiking is Sapa’s main tourist draw, and local women selling handwoven and batik indigo textiles will insist you let them guide you through the terraces or, at the very least, purchase a pillowcase. It takes a thick skin to turn them down – their broad smiles deepening the creases in their weathered faces – but one can only take home so many pillowcases. However, they are the perfect souvenir, with intricate patterns and entirely local materials; the tribal art of Sapa is striking and singular. We spent our days trekking through terraces with our guide, Pan, a petite mother of four who had never left Sapa. She took us on a ten-mile journey complete with indigo harvesting, mountain herb foraging, and a lot of elevation. We spent our nights bundled up, star gazing and card playing after scrubbing the red mud off our legs and taking long baths with herbs from the local Red Dao tribe.
Where to stay: Sapa Clay House (a family-run retreat with epic views, an infinity pool, luxe rooms, and wholesome and healthy local food)
Foods to try:
Rainbow rice (naturally dyed local rice served steamed inside bamboo sticks or transformed into noodles)
Salmon hotpot (the preferred way to enjoy the abundant locally farmed salmon of Sapa)
Black pork (of cắp nách, it’s a local breed of mountain pig that’s often prepared in stirfy)
Bai Tu Long Bay: Drifting into quiet relaxation
From there, we were off to Bai Tu Long Bay, a quieter alternative to the famous Ha Long Bay to the southwest. Boarding a wooden junk boat, the port quickly drifted into the distance as we sailed the glassy water into a network of thousands of towering limestone islands freckling the South China Sea. While romantic on paper, the small boat demanded intimacy with our shipmates, whose life stories we had plenty of time to dissect over family-style meals and in-transit downtime. When not learning about burnout culture in Amsterdam from a sales executive or vape addiction rates from an Australian pharmacist or the careers of each of an aristocratic Canadian couple’s children, we went kayaking at sunset, fished for squid under the stars, floated on our backs in the sea, and spelunked into ancient caves.
Where to stay: Indochina Junk’s Dragon Pearl Boat (a 15-person liveaboard with comfortable rooms, an enthusiastic captain, and an elaborate meal program)
Hoi An: Pristine and storied charm
A short flight brought us to Hoi An, a perfectly preserved ancient town in Central Vietnam where the streets glow with light from colorful paper lanterns, historic architecture remains pristine, and a lazy river hosts floating markets on the weekends. Tailoring is the town’s specialty, with hundreds of shops ready to replicate your dream wardrobe, often with a next-day turnaround. I came home with buffalo leather boots made to my foot’s measurements, a shiny Vietnamese silk blouse and trouser set, and a flowy dress I’ve tucked away until next summer.
The daily market is the town’s centerpiece, with baskets of plump just-caught fish, piles of herbs, and satchels of fresh rice noodles laid out from the wee hours of the morning. A primary local specialty here is Cao lầu. This chewy noodle is made with lye water from a historic well and ash from a local tree, forming the base of a hearty breakfast bowl with roasted pork, greens, broth, croutons, and fresh herbs.
The outskirts of Hoi An are best explored on a motorbike. Hidden alleys give way to narrow roads flanked by rice paddies and grazing cows, providing a glimpse into local life for adventurous spirits. We found hours of entertainment here, zipping past farmers in conical hats, offroading through unpaved roads, and stopping for the occasional coconut or warm bowl of soup.
The nearby beaches offer fresh seafood restaurants, beachfront beer service, and a distinctly tropical feel. Spending a few nights around An Bang Beach was a travel hack, lending a unique experience without traveling more than 10 minutes from the Old Quarter.
In a word, Hoi An has it all – it’s a place you can settle into, finding something to savor around every corner.
Above: Cao Lầu from factory to market to bowl
Where to stay: Pao’s Riverside Airbnb (an old meets new palace on the river with accommodating hosts and an ideal location)
Where to eat: Madam Khanh (an epic bahn mi smeared with greasy pate and loaded with all the good stuff), Hai Chiến Cao Lầu - stall 034 (Bourdain’s - and our - favorite place to enjoy Cao Lầu and white rose dumplings, inside a busy food market)
Where to drink coffee: The Espresso Station (an oasis away from tourists where the espresso is strong and made with local beans), Cavalry Coffee (a giant cafe with its own local culture and a bangin’ coconut coffee)
Where to shop: Miên’s Tailor (for custom linen clothes), M&M Family Tailor (for affordable but phenomenal silk tailoring)
What to eat:
Cao Lầu (chewy noodles made with local lye water and ash)
White Rose Dumplings (delicate translucent dumplings filled with shrimp)
What to do:
Hidden Gems for Early Risers Airbnb Experience: This was the highlight of our trip and worth the 4:30AM call time. Ha and his gang will cart you around on their motorbikes to a noodle making operation, a fish sauce factory, a locals-only market, and a backyard rice wine distillery, leaving you energized, educated, and well-fed.
Scooter to My Son Sanctuary: Rent a motorbike from Hoi An Bike Rental ($7/day), which will be delivered to and picked up from your location of choice, and ride to UNESCO World Heritage Site My Son Sanctuary, enjoying the scenery along the way. The rental company provides a readymade Google Maps route that’s scenic and safe.
Ho Chi Minh City: The grand finale
Our final stop was Ho Chi Minh City, where French colonial architecture, museums, and modern luxuries coexist with a bustling street food culture and plenty of commercial chaos. Here, we lingered over a cherry-themed high tea at the Reverie, sipped molecular cocktails piled with bubbles in a speakeasy that was hidden on the fourth story of an unmarked building, and ducked in for the last cabaret ballads at a jazz bar. But all that luxury necessitates balance, and Saigon's ground floor was calling. Here we discovered Bò lá lốt—ground beef with lemongrass, wrapped in betel leaves, grilled over charcoal, and bursting with flavor, a bite I’ll be chasing for years to come. Wandering around Ho Chi Minh City (if you can take the heat) lends itself to superlative people-watching; busy sidewalks are packed with posh socialites and salt-of-the-earth locals alike, reflecting the omnipresent duality of Vietnam’s big city.
Where to stay: The Reverie Saigon (over the top in the best way; this is a worthwhile splurge if there ever was one)
Where to eat: Ben Nghe Street Food (an indoor market filled with tempting stalls of every street food you could dream up), Phở Việt Nam (a Michelin-recommended beef pho place that topped the charts), Anan (a Michelin-starred fine dining restaurant with a tasting menu that pays homage to Vietnam’s many local ingredients and recipes)
Where to drink: CỘI Saigon (a jazz bar with weak drinks but entertaining performers), Summer Experiment (an expat hangout with wildly inventive cocktails and an elaborate snack menu)
What to eat:
Bò lá lốt (herby ground beef wrapped in betel leaves and grilled)
Cơm Tấm (broken rice, a humble breakfast dish worth seeking out for its pure comfort)
While two short weeks in Vietnam was definitely not enough time, as I look back on our time there, I am struck by the distinct sense of place, pride, and rhythm contained in each destination we explored. From Hanoi’s chaotic charm to Sapa’s misty seclusion, Hoi An’s timeless allure to Ho Chi Minh’s brimming energy, we found something singular in each place. The common thread (other than rice noodles – which I will never tire of) – was the people who invited us in, showed us their home with generous enthusiasm, and sent us on our way feeling like old friends.
