Any ambitions I had of becoming a ceramicist were swiftly shattered at the My Linh pottery workshop beside the Thanh Ha Pottery Village in Vietnam’s Hoi An. As the wet clay spun off the wheel and through my fingers, I realised that shaping earth into form is far harder than it looks.
Thanh Ha Pottery Village showcases Hoi An’s long history as a trading port between the 15th and 19th centuries. Its walls are lined with photographs of domed kilns nestled between homes and trees, while the ground floor displays works by local artists.
Outside, amid bougainvillaea and bamboo, miniature versions of the Tower of Pisa, Sydney Opera House and Saint Basil’s Cathedral dot the garden in a joyful clash of kitsch and craftsmanship. The streets around the village invite visitors to try their hand at the wheel or to shop for expertly made ceramics – delicate teacups, deep pho bowls dripping with glaze and small clay flutes shaped like animals. I left with a menagerie of crooked tigers, chickens and buffalo for about Dh13.
Hoi An is a charming old town on Thu Bon River, its historic centre astonishingly well preserved. Designated a Unesco World Heritage site in 1999, it holds more than 1,100 timber-frame houses arranged in a street plan barely changed in centuries. The town is a blend of influences – Chinese temples and wooden shophouses, narrow Vietnamese tube houses, French colonial villas and the Japanese Covered Bridge, first built in the 1500s.
Today, those ancient structures house cafes, tea rooms and boutiques selling everything from silk lanterns and handmade soaps to retro propaganda posters. Visitors can paint their own lanterns, sip chocolate at Maison Marou’s pretty cafe in Le Loi or visit Jimmy Chen’s viral jewellery stand for custom silver pieces. Local tailors can copy an outfit or make one from scratch, and most shops deliver to hotels so visitors can wander hands-free.
Come evening, the town transforms. Strings of coloured lanterns glow over the riverfront as boats drift on Hoai River and both locals and travellers release paper lanterns on to the water to wish for happiness and peace. By morning, the evidence is quietly gathered back by hand.
Central Vietnam’s lushness flows into its cuisine. Fruit sellers balance baskets of mangosteens, rambutans and crab apples, while the coffee is dark, rich and best taken iced with condensed milk (ca phe sua da). For dessert, coconut jelly served in its shell is unmissable.
Offshore, Cu Lao Cham Islands – a Unesco Biosphere Reserve – lure divers to clear waters named after the ancient Champa Kingdom that once ruled this region. Those intrigued by its legacy should head north to Da Nang’s Museum of Cham Sculpture, housed in a handsome colonial building with more than 400 sandstone relics tracing Hindu, Buddhist and Islamic influences across seven centuries.
Da Nang itself is a city in reinvention. Once a fishing port and later an American airbase – briefly one of the busiest in the world – it is now a fast-rising coastal hub framed by mountains and sea.
Nearby, the Golden Hands Bridge in Ba Na Hills has become social-media-famous: a sweeping walkway held aloft by two enormous stone hands. Reached by a 5km cable car, it offers cinematic views over the jungle. The wise visit early, enjoy the bridge and head straight back down before the theme park crowds arrive.
Back in the city, a cyclo ride – Vietnam’s bicycle-powered rickshaw – offers a languid way to explore. Sitting front and centre, you glide through streets buzzing with motorbikes and market stalls. It’s best enjoyed with a camera, a measure of trust and a steady nerve.
While northern Vietnam has four seasons, the centre and south have only two: wet and dry. During my visit, the rains had just begun – brief, misty bursts that left the Golden Hands Bridge shrouded in dreamlike fog. But the downpours can be fierce, so it’s best to check local weather and plan accordingly.
For food lovers, Nen Danang is a must. Tucked away in a residential street in Ngu Hanh Son, it is Vietnam’s first and only Michelin Green Star restaurant. Founder and chef Summer Le calls it “consciously Vietnamese”, using “hyper-local” ingredients – many grown in the city farm next door. Paired menus feature delicate bites of scallop, rice-field crab and fermented coconut and pineapple, each course served with a hand-drawn illustration and a poetic description.
As the sun dips, M45 Rooftop Bar at the new Courtyard by Marriott Danang Han River offers panoramic vistas from sea to mountains. As the city’s tallest building, it has a view that’s unmatched and food that’s served omakase-style, with the chef curating each exquisite course.
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