South Vietnam

Hoi An - Day 1

We transferred from Hanoi to Da Nang today, a very easy 1½-hour flight. With TripADeal, they organise the transport to and from the airports — or any excursions actually — taking us right into the airport, guiding us to the correct group check-in, and then seeing us off. Really very convenient when there is a language barrier.

We are not usually ones for organised holidays, but I have absolutely loved this — the ease with which everything flows means there is absolutely no stress at all.

We arrive in Da Nang and are met by our guide Men (pronounced Min). She is full of knowledge and chats to us for the one-hour journey from Da Nang to our resort in Hoi An.

Hoi An sits on Vietnam’s central coast, just south of Da Nang, and is known for being much flatter than many parts of the country, with the river on one side and the ocean beaches close by. The town itself has a population of roughly 120,000 people and was once a major Southeast Asian trading port from the 15th to 19th centuries — which explains its wonderful mix of Vietnamese, Chinese and Japanese influences. Today its beautifully preserved Old Town is a UNESCO World Heritage site and one of the most atmospheric places in Vietnam.

The resort check-in is all organised and the room keys are ready for us — no passports, no arsing around with credit cards — just all done for you.

We are keen to get into the Old Town and do a Food Tour (AUD$40 each), but Men kindly offers to take us in earlier to help us get oriented and find an ATM. This isn’t part of the tour — she is simply looking after us.

Hoi An Old Town absolutely oozes charm. It is buzzing with tourists, colourful and wonderfully fragrant as street vendors cook their wares. Tailors, leather craftsmen, silk merchants — anything you want, it is here. Jen is in heaven… all small sizes.

Men takes us to meet our guide for the Food Tour — there are six of us: our four plus Penny and Paul from Brisbane. Our guide’s name is To (pronounced “Two”). He gives us a wonderful mix of history and culture, sharing the stories and origins behind each dish, which makes the whole experience even more interesting.

We start at a restaurant famous for its dumplings — and yes, they were absolutely delicious. Next came a wonton topped with all sorts of yummy goodness… really, really good.

As mentioned earlier, because of Hoi An’s long history as a trading port, there is a distinct fusion of Japanese, Chinese and Vietnamese influences in the food and architecture. To also explained the origin of the lanterns, which was fascinating. In the early trading days, the port was very dark, so different merchant communities hung distinctive lanterns outside their houses and shops to identify themselves. Chinese lanterns were typically long and cylindrical, Japanese styles tended to be more rounded or oval, and Vietnamese lanterns evolved into the beautiful silk-covered shapes you see everywhere today — often fuller and bulb-like. 

We then moved on to another restaurant famous for cao lầu, Hoi An’s signature noodle dish. These special rice noodles are traditionally made using water from the ancient Ba Le Well, a centuries-old Cham well in the Old Town. Legend has it that the water’s unique mineral content gives the noodles their distinctive chewy texture. Traditionally, the lye water used in the noodles was also filtered through ash from local trees — one of the reasons authentic cao lầu is said to be impossible to perfectly replicate elsewhere.

But first, we learned how to eat another dish — a hands-on affair with pickled vegetables (a bit like kimchi but without the garlic), lettuce, cucumber, rice paper, pork and chicken. You roll it all together and dip it into a rich peanut-style sauce. Absolute flavour bomb!

Next stop: bánh mì. And according to Anthony Bourdain, these are the best in the world — and honestly, he might be onto something.

Still not finished…

We then tried a crispy Vietnamese egg pancake (bánh xèo) packed with bamboo shoots. Once again, you wrap it in rice paper with herbs and dip — by this stage I am seriously full.

Finally, the famous cao lầu arrives — and gosh, it was delicious.

We finish with a mango dessert — pure mango with a little gelatin — light, fresh and the perfect sweet ending to a very big (and very memorable) night of eating.

Next we stroll through the Old Town towards the river, all the while our guide is efficiently sorting out the tickets for the lantern boat ride — all included in the tour.

Before we board, he gently explains the tradition. When we light our lantern, we are to make a wish and say a quiet prayer for our ancestors, for our families, and for happiness and good health, before placing the lantern on the water. What a beautiful and meaningful ritual — simple, peaceful and very moving.

Soon we are stepping into a small wooden boat on the Thu Bon River, and honestly, your eyes don’t know where to focus. There is colour everywhere — glowing silk lanterns, flickering candlelight, reflections dancing on the water — movement, light and warmth all wrapped into one magical scene. Despite the buzz of activity, there is still a sense of calm and respect about the whole experience.

We drift gently along for about 20 minutes, passing the lively bars and restaurants lining the waterfront of Hoi An Ancient Town, their lights shimmering across the river. It is vibrant, atmospheric and one of those moments you just want to bottle and take home with you.

Then we wander through the lantern-lit streets of Hoi An Ancient Town, with Jen and me naturally gravitating towards the shops while the boys sensibly park themselves at a local spot for a well-earned beer. The Old Town is buzzing — colour, chatter and that constant hum of life — and before we know it, it’s time to head back.

True to form, everything is seamlessly organised by our guide. An air-conditioned car is waiting, the ride back to the resort is smooth and easy, and even the tipping has been taken care of. Honestly, what a treat. We are absolutely loving it here.

Hoi An - Day 2

We woke to an overcast, rainy morning — still beautifully warm — and wandered down to breakfast where, quite honestly, the spread was on another level. I think it may be the biggest breakfast display I have ever seen. Let me see if I can remember it all… bánh mì (those wonderful Vietnamese-French baguettes) with pork, chicken or beef and even a charcoal grill to toast them; a steaming pho station; roast pork; cheeses and cold meats; sushi; yoghurts; salads; cucumber, tomato, beans and vegetables; plus the full line-up of tea, coffee and fresh juices. There was fruit, breads and a toaster with jams, Danish pastries, eggs and bacon, hash browns, the full English breakfast options, and even curries. Honestly — there was nothing you could possibly want for.

After that feast we had a gentle explore around the resort, which is absolutely beautiful and actually reminds me quite a lot of Mauritius. The rest of the morning was perfectly spent relaxing by the pool, watching the rain come and go.

The orchids around the resort are simply to dream of — abundant floral displays in every imaginable colour. The frangipanis are just past their peak, but there is still enough perfume in the air to remind you they were recently in full glory. Bougainvillea shine brightly and are in magnificent bloom — a sea of colour wherever you look, even on a grey day.

We took our washing across the road — $1.50 per kilo — so truly no need to overpack in Vietnam as there are laundry services everywhere and far cheaper than hotel prices.

Then it was time for Jen and me to head off to our cooking class… and the rain was absolutely torrential.

First stop was to collect a few more guests (also from TripADeal), then on to the market — but the weather had other ideas. Because of the downpour, most of the stallholders had packed up, so that was a non-starter.

Instead, we were taken through the Vegetable Village, a government-supported farming community where local families are allocated a plot of land — enough space to build a home and grow produce — on the condition they supply the markets. It is hard work: harvesting begins around 2 am, with market selling from about 4 am.

We wandered through the neat rows of herbs and vegetables while the chef picked fresh samples for us to taste along the way. And that is when I made a very important discovery… Vietnamese mint — the sneaky little culprit that keeps appearing in my meals — has that very coriander-like flavour.

From this moment forward: no Vietnamese mint and definitely no coriander in my food, thank you very much!

Then it was off to the restaurant, and upstairs to our cooking class at Kumquat Restaurant. Our chefs for the session were Thong and Sabu, and before long we were divided into our groups.

Because the groups were organised by hotel, Jen and I were a cosy little duo, while another lively bunch of eight were travelling the exact same itinerary as us — just without the five-star upgrade (we did note that quietly to ourselves!). There was also another group of ten from the Rosemary Hotel… but frankly, they faded into the background once the real entertainment began.

Settle in — this is where things get interesting.

No sooner had we taken our seats than Kate and Donna, who were sitting to our left, abruptly stood up and moved to the other side of the table — leaving a very deliberate buffer zone between us, a pillar… and one older South African gentleman whom we shall diplomatically refer to as Mr Perv.

As Kate shuffled past, she announced — in a voice that could carry across the Mekong —
“I am NOT sitting with them. They are just awful people. Just awful.”

Jen and I exchanged a quick glance, assuming this had to be a family joke… perhaps sisters needing a little breathing space?

Oh no. They were deadly serious.

About ten seconds later, Mr Perv lifted his phone and appeared to start filming or photographing Kate and Donna. Without missing a beat, Donna responded with a very clear middle-finger salute. (For the more refined readers among us — yes, that finger.)

At that precise moment, Donna plonked her hand down on the placemat beside me, finger still proudly raised. For a split second I thought the gesture was directed at me — but one glance across the table confirmed the true recipient.

Curiosity well and truly piqued, I asked quietly, “Are you two related?”

Donna shot back, “Hell no — he is the most awful man on the planet.”

Jen and I looked at each other, mouths slightly open, both silently wondering what on earth we had just walked into.

What followed sounded less like a cooking class introduction and more like the opening episode of a reality TV drama. According to Kate and Donna, this gentleman had been making several women on the TripADeal tour uncomfortable, allegedly getting far too handsy — including an incident involving a teenage girl. Donna, who is a psychologist, had apparently confronted him earlier in the trip and told him in no uncertain terms that his behaviour was unacceptable.

His charming response?
He allegedly told her everyone does it and he had no intention of stopping… and from that moment on he had taken to calling Donna “the Hag.”

And just like that, Jen and I realised we were no longer just attending a Vietnamese cooking class — we were seated smack bang in the middle of what felt like a live reality show.

We were tasked with cooking four dishes — rice pancake, spring rolls, chicken with lemongrass, and caramel pork — so up we jumped to our stations.

Chef Sabu was clearly trained in the school of Gordon Ramsay — bossy as anything and running a very tight ship! First up was knife skills. We each had to prepare two cloves of garlic for each of the three bowls (one with chicken, one with pork, and one with minced shrimp, grated carrot and bean sprouts).

He demonstrated how to smash the garlic — which I already knew — but the little gem I picked up was to keep the knife handle lifted off the board so the blade can lie completely flat. Simple… but clever.

Then came the fine chopping. Let’s just say Sabu was not entirely impressed with my knife work — especially when we had to pause briefly to search for a tiny piece of my fingernail that had somehow joined the spring onion mix. Oops.

Once we had chopped the lemongrass, garlic, spring onions and assorted ingredients, everything was mixed into the bowls and left to marinate. Next lesson: how to roll spring rolls. Under Sabu’s watchful eye we wrapped, rolled and then fried them until golden.

No sooner had we finished than — with a sharp snap of the fingers — we were summoned back to the table to eat. Don’t mind if we do!

When we returned, we noticed Kate and Donna’s placemats had been quietly moved back to their original seats. Jen and I promptly shifted them right back again. The chef did try to encourage them to return, but we politely stood our ground — they were our new friends now. Their gratitude was immediate and heartfelt.

It really reinforced how lucky we have been with this group. On organised trips like this, the people you travel alongside can absolutely make or break the experience.

Meanwhile, Mr Perv and his wife were relocated to another group, which — I must say — contributed greatly to a far more relaxed and enjoyable evening for the rest of us.

The remaining four at our table were an Aussie family from Newcastle — mum, teenage son and daughter, plus (we think) mum’s partner. The daughter, probably about 15 or 16, was having a very emotional evening. When the garlic wouldn’t chop — tears. Spring rolls wouldn’t wrap — more tears. Sitting down at the table — yes, more tears.

I do try not to judge because you never know what someone else is dealing with… but it was, shall we say, unusual.

None of it dampened the spirits at our end of the table though. Jen, Kate, Donna and I were having an absolute ball.

And the final verdict?
Our spring rolls were delicious — compliments to the chefs!

Then — snap! — we were summoned back to our stations to tackle the caramel pork.

Into the pan went one tablespoon of oil and one teaspoon of sugar, and we were told to wait patiently until the caramel formed. Once it reached that perfect amber colour, in went the pork into the cast-iron bowl, and we were instructed to stir using chopsticks — not spoons, not egg flips — but seriously long chopsticks. Quite the skill, I must say.

No sooner had we finished than — snap snap — back to the table we were called, where bowls of hot rice were waiting for us. Time to taste our handiwork.

Surprisingly, the caramel pork was not sweet at all — but seriously, seriously good.

And then… you guessed it — snap snap — back to our stations we went.

Now it was time for the rice pancakes, with Chef Thung in charge. First, the oil went into the pan and we had to swirl it around — but not just any swirl… his swirl. The room was full of hand gestures and snapped fingers as he corrected us all into submission.

He spooned in the rice pancake mixture and demonstrated the all-important swirl technique. At this point he was busy coaching someone in Position 1 while Jen, in Position 3, was diligently practising her swirl. Mid-instruction — without even looking — his hand shot across and physically stopped Jen’s pan. The timing was impeccable. Very funny.

Then it was our turn. Swirl, cook, and flip. I must say, I turned out to be quite a competent flipper. The young lad in Position 1, however, became a little too confident — and on his final heroic flip… the pancake launched straight onto the floor. Oops.

Snap snap — back to the table we went, where we wrapped the rice pancake in rice paper, added the leaves (Vietnamese mint firmly excluded, thank you very much), and rolled it up. They really do use rice paper like an edible serviette. A quick dip into the prepared sauce — which we didn’t make but thankfully will get the recipe for — and it was time to taste.

Chef Thung also gave us a little lesson on fish sauce. Vietnamese fish sauce, he explained, is quite different from Thai fish sauce, which is darker and often made with squid and bream pike, giving it a much stronger aroma. Vietnamese fish sauce, by contrast, is simply fish and rock salt sealed in an airtight container and fermented for about a year — and noticeably less pungent.

The rice pancakes were absolutely delicious — another win for our table.

Then — you guessed it — snap snap and back to the stations for the lemongrass chicken. Oil into the pans, more very particular swirly-swirly (exactly how chef likes it), then in with the chicken to caramelise. First you stir with the chopsticks, then comes the proper pan flip — just like you see the chefs do on telly.

I’m pleased to report… I was rather good at that too.

Snap snap — back to the table once more to enjoy our lemongrass chicken with rice. Fresh, fragrant and absolutely delicious.

Then it was back to the hotel with the now-familiar organised transport and expert assistance crossing the road — a skill we are slowly but surely mastering.

We did, however, make a very conscious effort to steer well clear of Mr Perv in case he had identified any new targets for his wandering hands. Jen also witnessed a rather heated exchange between the mum and daughter from earlier — plenty of colourful language this time… but notably, no tears.

I have to say, the cooking class itself was excellent, but the unexpected side entertainment certainly made it one for the memory bank.

Meanwhile, the boys had clearly been making the most of the two-for-one cocktail special. Let’s just say by the time we arrived, there was a very distinct lishp in full effect. They were happily perched with Mark and Christie from our tour, deep in cocktail sampling mode, swapping stories and solving the world’s problems.

We all agreed how fortunate we’ve been — our tour group is friendly, good-humoured, keeps their hands to themselves, and is made up of genuinely lovely people.

Hoi An — Day 3

We woke to a gloriously sunny day — a little too bright for Neil! Jen hadn’t had the best night thanks to some enthusiastic snoring in the vicinity, so she sensibly slept in until our 10am massage.

Neil, John and I headed to breakfast where John would like the record formally corrected: the buffet does not have everything. Apparently the critical omission is muesli — although in fairness they do offer Coco Pops and Froot Loops, so one can survive.

The massage was fantastic (we are clearly back in the good books after Ninh Binh), and then we were off into Hoi An town for some exploring.

Goodness it was hot.

The Old Town was absolutely buzzing — colourful, vibrant and deliciously chaotic. Beep beep wherever you turned, and you really do have to remember to look the opposite way when crossing the road here. We made frequent hydration stops purely in the name of survival… and to locate the most efficient air-conditioning available.

A gelato stop proved a very welcome intermission — and I must say, it was a bloody good ice cream too.

Then followed the usual pattern: shopping, strolling and a bit of determined haggling. Jen and I have developed quite the system and seem to negotiate our way to very respectable prices. Honestly, everything here feels incredibly inexpensive, and if you can show them a photo, they can make just about anything for next to nothing.

More wandering, more browsing, and the occasional strategic retreat into a bar or restaurant for blessed cool air. Hoi An really does have a wonderful energy about it.

When we left the Old Town (no cars allowed inside), we were immediately accosted by taxi drivers — and, as with everything here, a little bargaining was clearly expected. We knew roughly what the fare should be thanks to a few previous Grabs (Vietnam’s version of Uber).

Our man opened at 150,000 dong.
We knew it should be about 100,000.

Cue the dance.

140… no.
130… still no.
We stood firm: 100,000.

Finally — okay.

We all piled into the car, and just before taking off he casually announced that because it was Tet holiday and the hotel was “very far,” we should add a 20,000 tip.

Without missing a beat, John removed his seatbelt and opened the car door in what can only be described as Oscar-worthy protest acting. The driver very quickly told John to “chill” and agreed to the original 100,000.

Negotiations: Thommo style.

Back to the hotel and the heat had really ramped up. Jen and Neil sensibly opted for a swim, while John and I remained firmly committed to the air-conditioning.

Later we headed back out for cocktails to meet up with the gang. We really do feel very fortunate to have landed with such a lovely group — I suspect we’ll be leaving this trip with some genuine new friendships.

Dinner followed, and then an early night for some. John, of course, has a football match to watch, but as for me… after finishing this, I will be resting my eyelids.

Ho Chi Minh - Day 1

Yesterday was largely a travel day as we made our way from Hoi An, via Da Nang, down to Ho Chi Minh City — an easy one-hour flight from Da Nang.

As always with TripADeal, we were completely escorted through the airport process, which makes life wonderfully simple when there’s a language barrier. At one point Jen had to sort out some enthusiastic Chinese tourists attempting to jump the queue — she may be little, but she is properly scary when required!

We then “enjoyed” about an hour in the lounge while John and Neil happily tucked into some delicious pho. Priorities.

Once we landed in Ho Chi Minh City — where it is decidedly hotter — we were met by our new guide, Hang (pronounced Hung), and transferred on a short drive to our digs for the next two nights. The Vietnam portion of the trip — and our time travelling with Jen and Neil — is sadly drawing to a close.

Hotel check-in was, once again, completely seamless. Rooms allocated, keys handed over, and no faffing about.

Kerry and Mick were in 1408 and opened their door first… followed immediately by some rather blasphemous expletives.

Then Neil and Jen went into 1409 and Neil declared, “Geez!”

We opened ours and John simply said, “Wow — look at the size of that bed.”

Two queen beds pushed together.

Absolutely massive.

Then it was out to explore and, luckily for us, on Saturday and Sunday the main shopping street in Ho Chi Minh City is closed to traffic — and this was Sunday. Woo hoo! No need to wrestle with the city’s famously hectic traffic.

First stop: a cocktail bar. I won’t lie — the staircase up looked a bit dodgy and Jen was highly suspicious. But John’s decision-making record on this trip has been impeccable, so why stop trusting him at the final destination? Up we went.

Inside was a cosy little bar that probably seats no more than twelve people. Next door, in full public view, a gentleman was receiving the full deluxe barber treatment — nose trim, ear clean, mani, pedi, haircut… and who knows what else might have been on the menu. Thorough, to say the least.

John ordered a Saigon Spice Surprise — a coriander and chilli vodka concoction — and thoroughly enjoyed it.

Then back out into the buzz. The city was absolutely humming — kids clutching ice creams and candy floss, neon-lit balloons bobbing everywhere, and that wonderful Southeast Asian evening energy in full swing.

Kirsty (our niece) had put Vietnamese chocolate firmly on our radar earlier in the trip. We’d been tempted elsewhere but the prices were eye-watering — more expensive than the Dubai chocolate — so we’d held off. But in Ho Chi Minh the prices were much more reasonable, and when we found a chocolate shop offering tastings… well… we were in there for quite some time.

Yes, family — you will be receiving samples. 😄

The neon signs were blazing, making the streets feel even more vibrant and alive as we made our way to our end destination: the street food café — a huge hall packed with food stalls from every direction.

We grabbed a table wedged between some Aussies and some Brits and promptly made new friends — Simon and Jenny from Manchester (our new besties) and… well… thingy and thingy from Lismore, who were highly entertaining if not entirely memorable by name!

Oh what to choose — there is anything and everything here. Your taste buds start working overtime the moment you walk in, while your belly quietly reminds you it simply cannot keep up.

Jen and I kicked things off with freshly shucked oysters — much to John’s obvious concern. They arrived dressed with some very hot, very fiery sauces… which Jen discovered the hard way. Her mouth is probably still in recovery.

John selected a beef salad with morning glory, followed (because why not?) by a chicken bánh mì. Jen and I continued our duck theme with duck pancakes and bao buns filled with duck — absolutely delicious.

Poor Neil was nursing a dodgy belly, so he took on the role of moral support and official food investigator, happily wandering the stalls and studying the different cooking techniques while the rest of us did the eating.

We sat there for a long while chatting with our new friends — it was such a fun, impromptu evening that it is a definite repeat tonight so Neil can enjoy it when he’s feeling better. Home to bed in our laaaaarge bed. The duvet cover is smaller than the bed, so John and I have to meet in the middle just to share it, and then to get out of bed we both have to roll and reach the end. Crazy experiences!

Ho Chi Minh - Day 2

Our last day in Ho Chi Minh City and our last day with Jen and Neil until next time. It was another beautiful sunny — and equally very hot — day. We set off after breakfast, which now has muesli, much to John’s approval.

John, our chief tour guide, had organised a route around the city along the Saigon River up to the Saigon Opera House, crossing very busy roads — but we are now experts at it. We stopped for coffee, ice cream, and kept darting across to the shady side of the street whenever we could.

We visited Nguyen Van Binh Book Street and spotted our friends Jenny and Simon whom we met last night. It was very, very hot. Finding a coffee shop with air con proved near impossible, so we settled for seats in front of a fan. Jenny disappeared to shop for the family after devouring a fresh coconut, while Neil, John and Shaz took refuge in the café with iced coffees and the blessed breeze of the fan.

By now the heat was intense, so we wended our way home for some respite, passing the fabulous Saigon Central Post Office before finally reaching the sanctuary of air con and a much-needed lie down.

After a rest, a few episodes of Bridgerton, and John finishing his second book of the holiday (while I haven’t even managed one chapter of my bridge book), we headed back out to The Street Food Cafe via the chocolate shop.

At the Street Food Café we ended up sitting next to three guys from Perth — of all the street food cafés… what are the chances? Then someone was very excited to see us — it was Kate from the cooking class! They were here, we saw Donna, and suddenly we were feeling like locals. Not long after, we spotted Jenny and Simon — I mean, how good is that?

Our meals were superb and incredibly cheap, the beer was cold and good — the perfect end to a superb holiday with Jen and Neil. Well done John for finding this, and Mags and Hursty — thank you for recommending it. TripADeal accommodation and service were top-notch and great value for money. We will definitely be doing this again.

One of the coolest things in Vietnam is the pedestrian crossings — the pavement lights up green, especially helpful for those glued to their phones at busy crossroads.

Vietnam, on the whole, exceeded expectations. The respect and politeness of everyone we encountered (apart from Mr Perv!) was universal and such a joy. So, you Sydney drivers, perhaps take a Vietnamese chill pill — life really is nicer when a hoot is simply a friendly warning, not an expression of rage. Don’t hoot at the poor soul crossing the road — just glide calmly around them.

For a communist country, there is clearly vibrant free trade and an energy that feels dynamic and forward-moving. We saw no hatred — just warmth. We experienced a welcoming community, rich agriculture, scooters here, scooters there, scooters everywhere. New buildings are rising, and the whole place feels like a thriving economy on the move.

So if Vietnam wasn’t on your list before — add it. It is absolutely worth the visit.