Center of Culture: Hue, Hoi An, and Da Nang, Vietnam

Central Vietnam is rich in history, diversity, and culture. Over the course of a week, Band Bunch Powder—the two of us plus our travel companions Levine, Drew, and Leslie—explored Hue, the historic royal capital of a united Vietnam; Hoi An, a beautiful international trading port; and Da Nang, a modern beachfront city. While not as adventurous as the events of the previous week, there was still a lot to see and learn. Also, we adopted a monkey.

Hue

Hue (pronounced “hway,” and not to be confused with our amazing guesthouse host in Tam Coc with the same name) is a medium size city of half a million people that served as the capital of Vietnam until 1945. The city itself is fairly nondescript, which was actually part of its charm and why we liked it—it’s an everyday, livable city. It has a small but cute downtown with a foodie scene, a coffee scene, and a lively restaurant/bar scene that spills out onto the streets, which was surprisingly filled with locals even though it is also the touristy part of town. Despite its small stature, Hue does have an international music scene of sorts; we were treated to performances by Queen one night, and then by Bruno Mars the next. Okay, they were actually just street performances by one of many Vietnamese artists dressing up as Queen and Bruno, and while he were pretty good, it was more entertaining in a comical than musical way. Vietnamese Freddie Mercury had us cracking up with his impression, and we sang along enthusiastically, with appropriate edits to the final line of “Bohemian Rhapsody:” “Any Hue the wind blows...”

The royal treatment in Hue continued with some history lessons as we cyclo’ed (rickshawed) over to the court of the Nguyen Dynasty, the Citadel. (The cyclo was initially a necessary luxury for our friend Levine with his cast and crutches, but it ultimately became a really fun way for all of us to zig-zag through traffic and traverse the city!) The Nguyens united northern Vietnam in 1802 after a long civil war, and defeated the Cham Muslims and the Khmer in the south to take over the Mekong Delta region too, shaping the country into roughly the borders that exist today. To honor their conquest and run the empire, they built the Citadel, a city, temple, capital, and palace all rolled up inside a walled fortress. Unfortunately, most of the massive compound was destroyed in the Vietnam War during the Tet Offensive in 1968. The Forbidden City, where the emperor lived inside the Imperial Palace, inside the Citadel, was reduced to rubble, and only rock walls remain today as evidence. But many other areas of the former Imperial Palace have been restored, and they are spectacular. We made our way through the throne room and greeting hall, a reading room, a theater, and the Hall of the Mandarins, which housed the political leaders of the country, who ruled by Confucian law. Long corridors stretched out to all sides of the complex, leading to temples, residences, gardens, and many other parts of the Citadel still under reconstruction. Though we spent a good half day exploring the sprawling complex, we were told that only 20 of the 148 structures have been restored, putting into perspective how large the Citadel once was at the height of the Nguyens’ power.

The Nguyen family also made their mark outside the Citadel walls. On our second day, we visited two of the many tombs dedicated to the royal lineage that dot the Hue countryside. Khai Dinh is the resting place of the second to last Nguyen emperor (the line ended when the Japanese invaded during World War II). Built in the early 20th century, the exterior features black stone facades and gargoyle-like statues, while the interior walls are covered with millions of tiny, vivid tiles depicting Asian motifs such as flowering bamboo and dragons flying across a yellow sky. Khai Dinh’s best asset is its location, built on the side of a hill and featuring wide sweeping views of the rolling green terrain of Central Vietnam.

More impressive in both scope and scale, however, was the tomb of Minh Mang, the second emperor of the Nguyen dynasty who ruled in the mid 1800s. Set within a forest, the grounds are beautiful and expansive. A central axis leads visitors through multiple arched gateways and into elevated pavilions, graced with tiled roofs and dragon crests. Statues of elephants and Mandarins flank the path, as well as white and blue clay pots containing bonsai trees. Making our way through the tomb complex, we crossed stone bridges spanning koi ponds and meandered through zen gardens, enjoying the peaceful, park-like atmosphere that honors the former emperor.

If all of this all looks and sounds Chinese, well, that’s because it kind of is. Vietnamese history is deeply intertwined with China, since the latter ruled the former for over a thousand years (at least Northern Vietnam; Southern Vietnam was part of the Khmer empire). This history is clearly reflected in the tombs and temples that we visited in Hue, but there is also an overlap in culture, religion, food, and even language, with about a third of the Vietnamese lexicon originating from China. The Chinese are actually the one that coined the name “Viet Nam,” meaning the southern (Nam) part of the Chinese Empire where the Viet people live. This relationship was scientifically confirmed by the fact that Karen (who is Chinese) looks like the Vietnamese people we saw. No, we’re not saying all Asians look the same, but locals themselves kept asking Karen if she was Vietnamese (to be fair, they ask her whether she is the local ethnicity in every Asian country we’ve visited). This even came up comically once, when, at Hue’s guesthouse in Tam Coc, a French couple returned their motorbike keys back to Karen, thinking she was the owner of the guesthouse!

The Chinese influence in Vietnam continued down the coast of the Gulf of Tonkin to the alluring city of Hoi An. But first we had to get there—by motorbike.

Now, we were a bit hesitant to ride after Levine’s recent motorbike accident, but we had already booked the trip led by two motorcycle gurus—and, more importantly, the route was reputed to be one of the most beautiful and fun motorbike rides in Vietnam, so we had to do it. With Michael and Drew each riding solo, Karen and Leslie riding pillion with our fun guides, and Levine in a car, we cruised as a pack, riding 125 kilometers from Hue to Hoi An over the course of a day. The reviews were right—despite some stressful intersections as we passed Da Nang, the rest of the ride was gorgeous, making our way past rice fields, up and down picturesque mountain roads over the spectacular Hai Van Pass, and along coastlines and beaches. It was a special journey with the sun on our backs, the wind in our hair, and the bustle of Vietnamese life in our face. After a final stop to explore the magnificent cave temples and views from Marble Mountain, we arrived in Hoi An exhausted, but accomplished.

Hoi An

It’s easy to fall in love with the charm and liveliness of Hoi An, once one of the largest and best seaports in Southeast Asia in the 18th and 19th centuries. Merchants from around the world, including Americans, set up shop here to trade all forms of Asian goods, from spices to textiles to ceramics, but it was the Japanese and Chinese who were the main architects of the city. The well-trodden Old Town of Hoi An is comprised of an impressive collection of historic two-story buildings painted yellow with tiled roofs. Most of the structures were former merchants’ homes, with the bedrooms vaulted over a warehouse space. This layout was advantageous, because the nearby Thu Bon River breaches almost yearly and floods the entire city, even today. Thus, the ground floor storage areas can be cleared of inventory come rainy season, while the residential areas above remain high and dry. This design also helped to preserve the city, as a strong ironwood foundation was needed to weather the frequent deluge, resulting in homes and shops that were built to last. But what really preserved the city was actually its decline. Hoi An’s industrial prominence fell as Da Nang took over as the main regional port in the late 1800s; due to Hoi An’s reduced logistical importance, it was also spared during the Vietnam wars.

Hoi An is overlooked no more. Today, it is once again one of the most internationally visited cities in Vietnam, but this time for tourism. Thousands of visitors jammed onto its narrow streets, making it near impossible to even walk cross the popular Japanese Covered Bridge (it was extra crowded when we were there because of the holidays). The merchants today have pivoted to reflect this new industry, with spiced lattes replacing the spice trade, and small gondola boats running evening cruises on the same canals that were once shipping lanes for goods heading to Venice.

It’s touristy, but you can’t help but enjoy floating on the canal and releasing a candle (and a wish) onto the water, dotting the waterways with twinkling lights. And even with the crowds, strolling through the quaint shops and cobblestone lanes—strung from end to end with colorful lanterns that were especially beautiful when lit up at night—still feels like a journey back in time. We explored the old Chinese assembly halls, which acted as both a community center and a temple for the Chinese residents living in Hoi An. And there were many, as there was an assembly hall for each of the provinces from whence the merchants hailed (we were partial to the Cantonese Hall, of course, but the Chaozhou Hall was the most beautiful with its intricate wood carvings). We also walked around the central wet market, which sold fresh fish caught daily from local fishermen, and observed noodles drying out in the sun, getting ready to be used for that night’s bowl of Bun Bo Hue or Cao Lau.

Speaking of food, we enjoyed more than a few delicious seafood meals while in the region, including grilled calamari and saucy scallops near An Bang Beach with Drew’s prior Vietnamese Disney co-guides; fresh grilled lobster at Hoi An’s night market with Ty and Anna, our friends from the Gibbon Experience in Laos; and Hue-style seafood rice cakes and dumplings at Hang Me Me. However, our best meals were land based. On multiple occasions, we feasted on the Hoi An-specific cuisine of My Quang noodles, Cao Lau noodles, and white rose dumplings. Not surprisingly, our most enjoyable taste tests were banh mi. Not to take anything away from Banh Mi Phuoung, the Anthony Bourdain-recommended shop that was very good and that had a lot of excellent unique flavors, including tuna, bacon, and tofu (with five people, we got to try a large variety!), but Madame Khanh The Banh Mi Queen was incredible and hands down the true queen. We went twice in our four days there and our only regret is that it was not four times in four days. We’re drooling just writing about it.

Finally, the most notable remnant of the past is the fabric and tailor shops. Hoi An’s textile legacy remains, with hundreds of tailors in the Old Town ready to craft handmade suits and dresses—or whatever one wants— in only 24 hours. High quality tailored suits that might cost thousands of dollars in the States only cost $150-300 in Hoi An, depending on the fabric of choice. The craftsmanship that goes into making the clothes is evident, as the patron goes into the shop multiple times to get measured, fitted, and then re-fitted, to get it just right. Drew bought a linen shirt, Levine got two [snazzy] button-down shirts made for him, and Karen got a cute tailored jumpsuit. Though Michael and Leslie did not get anything tailored, we did all end up with the best clothing Hoi An has to offer—we (and seemingly every other visitor to Hoi An) purchased the amazingly ugly yet hilarious fruit shirts!

To celebrate Christmas as a family, and to celebrate two weeks of great travel together (other than Levine breaking his foot, of course), we all donned matching pineapple-watermelon shirts and hit the streets, running into countless other tourists wearing similarly ridiculous fruit shirts, and enjoying a Christmas dinner of delicious local Vietnamese food (which can count as Chinese food given the Chinese influence above, so we didn’t break Jewish tradition too much; no movie though). Also, since a family wouldn’t be complete without a monkey, we adopted one in Hoi An, at least emotionally. Ti Ti, our guesthouse’s 1.5-year-old pet macaque, was our little baby for a few days. We woke up to greet him each morning, and loved to watch him suck his thumb, cover his eyes from the fluorescent light, and cling to us with all of his tiny little hands. He literally cried when we left him, and we cried a little, too. Ti Ti, you may never learn to read this, but our love for you will last for a thousand years.

Da Nang

Oh yeah, we also went to nearby Da Nang for a couple days after Hoi An, barely slipping in one of New York Times’ “52 Places to Visit in 2019” before the year ended. It’s the third largest city in the country, but there wasn’t too much to do there, leaving us to mostly lounge around in pretty coffee shops, observe teenage karaoke performances and local mens’ drinking circles, and walk up and down the night seafood and trinket markets. There are also seven very unique bridges crossing the Han River in Da Nang, two of which we crossed on foot (and a third on motorbike, when we first arrived, above), including the famous Dragon Bridge that spews out fire every weekend, a very underwhelming affair. Finally, we grabbed lunch with our French friends from the Gibbon Experience in Laos over a Da Nang specialty—thin pork fat wrapped in rice paper rolls and topped with a mound of fresh herbs. Full, caffeinated, and relaxed, we then flew to Ho Chi Minh City, where we pick up next.

As Vietnamese Freddie Mercury would say, “And a’Hue we went!”

Karen & Michael

Hue, Hoi An, and Da Nang, Vietnam, December 21-30, 2019