Vietnam:A Mother-Daughter Cultural Adventure
Roxy and I thrive in radically different scenery, and that’s why Asia calls to us. It feels like a true escape, leaving the Western world far behind. In Shanghai, we sensed the unmistakable Western encroachment—clothing, cuisine, history, and architecture—a cultural Molotov cocktail. But once we set foot in Vietnam, everything familiar vanishes, and that’s where the thrill lies for us. The dramatic scenery floods our minds with all that Vietnam was, is, and can become in our storybook imaginations.
We land in Hanoi just after midnight. Customs takes ages, and when we finally step outside, the air is cooler than expected, a heady mix of crispness and palm trees. A man rushes us into a van, and Roxy and I gaze wide-eyed at the unfamiliar sights outside. The streets are alive with the hum of motorbikes weaving through traffic, the soft glow of neon lights reflecting off the pavement, and the alluring scents of street food wafting through the air.
As we ride through the city, it buzzes with young Vietnamese clubgoers. The flashing strobe lights and deep bass beats spill into the streets beckoning us to join in the nightlife. We arrive at Hotel De l’Opera, a luxury boutique hotel beside the Hanoi Opera House. It’s a boutique gem, blending modern elegance with a hint of colonial charm. The staff, dressed in matching navy suits, greet us with warm smiles and impeccable English. After a quick shower to refresh, we crawl into bed, anticipation buzzing in the air.
Vietnam’s enchanting capital city is often described as old world. There are hundreds of serene lakes, splendid parks, colonial villas, and mansions. In the Old French Quarter, we find crumbling houses crammed into narrow alleyways named after the goods that were once traded there—Silk Street, Gold Street, even Fried Fish Street. There’s sidewalk cafes, bike-filled boulevards, and rustic tea rooms. From the religious pride felt in the temples, to the solemn grandeur of Ho Chi Minh’s monumental mausoleum, we find communities with histories that go back over a thousand years.
Our guide, Hoa (pronounced “Wa”), is stocky with greying temples, warm smiles, and a wealth of knowledge. A professor and card-carrying Communist (he showed us!), he travels to Tacoma, Washington, annually to teach at the University of Washington. “You’re lucky to have me,” he boasts. We feel fortunate indeed, especially as he shares stories about Vietnam’s rich history, its struggles, and its vibrant culture.
One thing we quickly learn: the Vietnamese love pagodas. With over 20,000 dedicated to Buddha, we visit the Confucius School, the Temple on West Lake, and the One Pillar Pagoda, home to Guan Yin, the Goddess of Compassion. Roxy marvels at the beautifully arranged offerings—clusters of Buddha’s hand and baby bananas illuminated by a crystal chandelier. We take our time absorbing the spiritual atmosphere, each temple steeped in history and reverence.
Next, we explore the Museum of Ethnology. Inside, we learn about the 54 ethnic groups in Vietnam, each with distinct languages and identities. Outside, life-size replicas showcase primitive dwellings, while our guide shares fascinating customs and traditional attire that define beauty in each culture. The variety of traditions, from intricate clothing to unique marriage ceremonies, fills us with an appreciation for the diversity that shapes Vietnam.
The following morning, we embark on a private food tour. Our exuberant guide Hang asks if we’ve had breakfast. “Let’s eat what Vietnamese people have for breakfast!” she declares. We find a narrow restaurant specializing in pho, the magical soup that simmers for ten hours. Herbs, black pepper, vinegar with garlic and chili tickle our taste buds. Slurp, spoon, swoon. Roxy, recovering from travel tummy, powers through her bowl like a champ.
Exploring Chau Long Market, Hang reveals that Hanoi residents shop twice daily because nothing is refrigerated. The early-morning vendors, who leave their mountain villages at 2:00 a.m., display a dizzying array of fresh produce and meats. We taste exotic fruits, marvel at live baby eels, watch frogs trying to leap out of their nets, all while witnessing market women break into a spontaneous dance to Donna Summer’s disco music. Suddenly, the women emerge from their stalls, stretching their arms into the air, and shaking their hips with infectious joy. “This is their workout time,” Hang explains, as Roxy rolls her eyes at my urge to join in.
We then dive into the culinary delights of Ngo Cho Dong Xuan. From sesame buns to grilled pork and snail shells, the street food market dazzles our taste buds. At the renowned Banh Mi #25, Roxy quips, “I guess #1 through #24 were taken.” We wash down the heavenly baguettes stuffed with pate, sliced pork and pickled veggies with Hanoi beer, but Hang insists we can’t miss the egg coffee at Cafe Giang. Two egg yolks, brown sugar, condensed milk, and a splash of brandy create a delicious concoction that has Roxy in stitches when a rotund traveler misses his toddler-size plastic chair. Roxy laughs so hard she, too, falls out of her chair. “Who doesn’t love coffee and a show?” she says pulling herself off the floor.
After a food-induced nap, we head to KOTO, a restaurant and social enterprise. Empowering at-risk Vietnamese youth, the atmosphere buzzes with student servers and cooks. We sample crispy egg rolls and fresh rice paper rolls, all beautifully presented. Roxy beams, “Everything!” is her answer to Hang’s question about our most memorable dish. The delicious food and the knowledge that we’re supporting a worthy cause make each bite even more satisfying.
Next, we sail into the breathtaking Ha Long Bay. The lush emerald green waters and jagged limestone islands against a ghost-like misty grey sky create a surreal landscape. As we motor into the Gulf of Tonkin on the Bhaya Classic 2, the top deck offers stunning views. The serenity of the bay is mesmerizing, and I want to capture every moment. In the evening, we gather for cocktails with fellow travelers from around the world—a German couple, a British family, and a charming South American duo—sharing stories over clinking glasses.
After a peaceful night’s sleep, I rise invigorated and ready for a tai chi class on deck. The captain’s reverent instruction fills the air with calm, and I try my best to follow along but fail miserably to get the steps right. Roxy watches the last five minutes of the class and says, “Oh, Mom, that was not your best look.”
Post-breakfast we paddle through floating villages. We marvel at the colorful houseboats as our guide explains that this self-contained society is in perfect harmony with the land and sea, yet the government is pushing to relocate villagers to the mainland—a bittersweet tale. Each houseboat showcases a unique personality, adorned with vibrant colors and decorations, as children wave from the windows, their laughter echoing across the water.
Now at The Fusion Maia Da Nang on China Beach, we lounge by the infinity pool having just enjoyed an incredible breakfast of grilled salmon, egg fried rice, and tapioca with rose petals. The luxurious amenities, which include a private villa, two spa services a day and stunning views create a perfect oasis. This beach, once a refuge for American troops during the war, holds a rich history that adds depth to our experience.
We are on route to Hoi An, the sixteenth century city that was once occupied by the Portuguese, the Japanese, and lastly, the Chinese. Our guide is Dam and his driving antics leave us stunned when he bumps into another car. “Are you going to leave a note?” I ask. “Sure, sure, sure,” he grins, before speeding off. Hoi An’s charm captivates us with its ancient homes and temples, a blend of cultures. It’s so perfect that it feels like Disney’s imagineers created it—not centuries of Chinese influence and culture. Dam, a better guide than driver, shares legends, including the story of how with the flip of a coin the Three Mothers help parents name their babies. “It took seven times to find the right name for our youngest daughter, which turned out to be a boy’s name and I don’t like it, but at least she has good fortune,” Dam says.
After touring and shopping, we have dinner at Morning Glory. Inside a sunny yellow room we indulge in crispy whole red snapper, roasted chicken with five spice powder, spring rolls with duck, and the restaurant’s signature morning glory with sliced garlic. Seated next to two sisters from Durban, Australia, we bond over our shared love for food and travel. It turns out that these two sisters have just come from Cambodia—our next stop. I can’t help but feel that it’s all going too quickly. “Just say yes” is our travel mantra, reminding us to embrace every meal, every conversation, every breathtaking view, and every moment.
