Inspired Trip to Vietnam

Welcome to Hanoi! Today we immerse ourselves in the rhythms of the city—motorbikes slip down narrow lanes, the scent of lime and grilled pork hanging in the humid air. Hanoi is a mosaic of French façades, shaded courtyards, and sidewalk cauldrons of simmering broth, and today, we ease into its rhythm.

After taking some time to regroup and refresh from our travels, we gather at a rooftop bar perched above a literary landmark—once the haunt of Vietnam’s great writers and thinkers. Below us, the city pulses; in front of us, an inventive menu by Michelin-starred Chef Alain Dutournier offers its own narrative. Imagine lobster bisque arriving with a sherbet twist, nestled into saffron-tinted risotto, each bite playful and precise. Together, we raise our glasses to Vietnam, and to the stories we’ll collect along the way.

At Thanh Ha Market, the morning begins with steam and chatter. Stalls spill over with bundles of morning glory, pyramids of rambutans, and vats of simmering phở. We venture through the sensory rush, pausing to share street snacks—a frothy cà phê trứng (egg coffee) here, a bowl of pho tiu with tender slices of beef and chewy noodles there, hidden behind a narrow alleyway.

Later, we step into the hushed elegance of a local pagoda. Incense curls toward gilded rafters, and the air shifts—cooler, slower. Here, we sit with a senior monk, whose quiet presence offers insight into the traditions of Vietnamese Buddhism—how it moves through daily life like water, steady and essential.

A cyclo ride through the Old Quarter completes the day, the clip of wheels over stone mingling with laughter and the buzz of scooters. The afternoon is yours to rest, refresh, or simply take in the view before we reconvene for dinner, the city lights now flickering into the evening.

Today we leave Hanoi behind, watching the city dissolve into farmland—women in conical hats tending rows of greens, water buffalo grazing at the edges of rice paddies. Ha Long Bay emerges like something imagined—limestone pillars piercing emerald waters, their silhouettes softened by mist.

Aboard a private vessel, we cruise through the stillness, eyes adjusting to the scale and silence of this ancient seascape. Lunch is served on deck—local seafood, prepared with local finesse, the aroma of lemongrass and fish sauce lingering in the warm air.

At Bo Hon Island, we step ashore to explore Sung Sot, the “Surprise Cave,” where towering chambers give way to a panoramic view of the bay. Later, at Luon Cave, bamboo boats carry us through a low arch into a hidden lagoon—its glassy surface undisturbed, save for the quiet splash of oars. Back on land, the evening is yours—whether wandering through Hanoi’s side streets or lingering over a late-night bowl of bún chả.

Morning brings us southward to Huế, the former imperial capital and the soul of the Nguyễn Dynasty. The pace slows here. Banyan trees cast generous shade, and golden-roofed pagodas peek through the foliage like whispers from another century.

We begin at Tha Om Garden House, where creaking gates open into a quiet world of tiled courtyards and still ponds. Lunch unfolds beneath a canopy of frangipani—restored royal homes setting the tone for a day steeped in legacy. Later, we trace the life of a Nguyễn princess through her preserved residence, where carved shutters and antique lacquerware speak to a bygone era of courtly elegance.

As afternoon fades, a boat drifts us along the Perfume River. At Thien Mu Pagoda, seven stories of weathered stone reach toward the clouds. The scent of incense lingers in the breeze, and for a moment, time feels suspended. This evening, we’re welcomed into a private home, where the table is set for a deeply personal dinner—one rich in flavor and filled with stories passed from generation to generation.

Today we continue our journey into the moss-covered walls of the Imperial Citadel, where echoes of dynasty-era grandeur still resonate. Stone paths wind through landscaped gardens and lotus ponds, leading us into courtyards once reserved for emperors.

Afterwards, we dive into the city’s street food—served not on white linen but on stainless steel tables under the open sky. A local cyclo winds us through the flavors of Huế: clam rice laced with lemongrass, sizzling skewers of pork, and chè—sweet soups layered with beans, coconut, and sticky rice.

Later, we head to the Khai Định Tomb. It’s a surreal fusion of styles—floral mosaics, gothic columns, and French balustrades colliding into a resting place as singular as the emperor it commemorates. The evening is yours. Perhaps a cocktail at the hotel, or a moonlit walk along the Perfume River.

We rise with the sun and begin the scenic drive along the Hải Vân Pass, a serpentine ribbon of highway that climbs into the clouds. Below, the sea shimmers a silvery turquoise, and the scent of salt and clove floats up from the forested cliffs.

Near Danang, we stop in Nam Ô, a fishing village known for its age-old craft of fish sauce fermentation. The air here is heavy with brine and sea wind as we step into the workshop of a local family. Ceramic crocks, some decades old, line the courtyard—each one holding a future bottle of amber liquid with a depth unlike anything store-bought.

A seaside lunch beckons—crabs cracked open at the table, grilled squid still warm from the fire. Then it’s onward to Hoi An, where ochre buildings line lantern-lit streets, and the river glides past wooden docks. We walk through the Old Town, pausing at temples, markets, and the home of a master lantern-maker, where silk and bamboo transform into luminous art. Dinner tonight is at Mango Mango, a lively temple of flavor where contemporary Vietnamese cuisine dances with global influence.

The day begins quietly, with a yoga session in a breezy studio tucked among the palms. Our movements mirror the slow arc of the sun, and by the time we rise from our final savasana, the world feels a little lighter.

After, we take to the water, arriving by boat to Hoi An’s central market just as the day begins to simmer. Shouts rise from the stalls—fishmongers haggling over mackerel, women wrapping herbs in banana leaves, towers of dragonfruit stacked like sculpture.

From here, we enter the kitchen. Ms. Lulu—a force in Hoi An’s culinary world—welcome us into their domain. We chop and slice, learning the balance of Vietnamese flavors. Lunch is our own creation: crisp papaya salad, golden crab wontons, and muc nhoi thit—squid stuffed with pork and seasoned with just enough spice to make your palate sing.

The rest of the afternoon is yours to embellish. A bike ride along the river? A nap by the pool? We’ll reconvene at dusk for a casual, hyperlocal dinner and food tour led by an in-the-know guide.

This morning, the countryside calls. Bicycles carry us past mirror-like rice paddies and grazing water buffalo, their ears flicking lazily in the morning heat. In Cam Thanh, we trade wheels for water, climbing into round bamboo basket boats that wobble across narrow canals. We cast fishing nets, try our hand at crabbing, and let the tide carry us forward.

Next is Tra Que Village, a farming community where herbs grow in neatly combed rows. We join local farmers in harvesting morning glory and coriander, our hands dusted with soil. An herbal foot massage follows—fragrant, grounding, just the right kind of indulgence.

At midday, we gather in a local home, where we indulge in a hands-on cooking session. Clay pots bubble gently on the stove, and as we slice and stir, conversation flows. Lunch is garden-fresh, deeply satisfying, and wholly our own. The rest of the day is yours.

A short flight carries us to Ho Chi Minh City, where scooters weave like water through traffic and the energy hums at a higher frequency. We waste no time diving in. Lunch is a quick-stop bowl of pho at a beloved local joint—herbs torn by hand, broth rich and deep.

After checking in at our hotel, we head straight into the streets. French colonial architecture rises alongside sleek glass towers. We pause at the Burning Monk Memorial, its solemn presence a reminder of the city’s layered past.

Nightfall brings with it a change of pace. We mount vintage Vespas and zip through narrow alleys and side streets, pulling up curbside to snack on sizzling bánh xèo, grilled oysters with scallion oil, and tiny clay pots of caramelized pork. The city feels electric—alive and always in motion.

After breakfast at the hotel, we stop for an intimate Lacàph Coffee Experience, where Vietnam’s iconic phin drip brews alongside modern filter methods. Here, we explore the nuances of small-batch roasting, sampling regional beans and learning how this centuries-old tradition has been reimagined by a new wave of Vietnamese coffee artisans. The aroma alone—dark, nutty, laced with caramel—lingers long after the final pour.

The afternoon is yours to wander, rest, or reflect—perhaps with a return to a favorite boutique or a quiet moment by the pool.

Tonight, we gather for a final meal at Mandarin. The cuisine is elegant, unpretentious, and served family-style—the perfect backdrop for reminiscing. Some will continue the night on a rooftop bar nearby, letting the warm air and city lights linger just a little longer.

The trip ends, but something lingers—a certain taste, a scent, a story that’s now yours. As we part ways in Ho Chi Minh City, full of flavor and memory, we know that Vietnam has left its mark. Until next time.