It’s been over a month since the suitcases have been cleaned and stacked up in the loft; the holiday gear, jackets, and snorkels have been washed, dried, and put away. The gifts have been distributed, and the souvenirs and shopping have been tucked away. There is no physical trace of my vacation to Vietnam except the silk lanterns hanging in the garden or the bamboo root masks occupying the wall. But what remains after everything has returned to its grind is the cackle of laughter, the rattle of tiffs, the cacophony of tantrums, and the cumulative sense of joy from the trip.
To me, it doesn’t matter whether we missed the checklist or skipped an attraction or omitted a popular eatery. In my memory, Vietnam stays alive through the sights, smells, and sounds that washed over my senses with an oriental calm. What I reminisce about are cringe conversations with my teenage kids; their ecstatic shopping sprees; the crazy antics of my daughter; the cool, detached vibe of my son; the ease of being with my partner; and the exciting late nights of couplehood.
However, because my camera fails me, it is in words that I preserve these precious memories. Memories that hug me with gentle contentment. As I recount these memories, I promise you that you’ll feel them vicariously in your body because I am writing from my senses and not from my intellect. Dear reader, if you have indulged me by reading thus far, I am obliged not to bore you with the drabness of my itinerary or the list of things to do.
My eyes had so much to absorb that first morning we landed in Hanoi and stepped out on the streets looking for breakfast. Every hundred steps, sat groups of men and women huddled on low stools, with animated expressions and hasty chopsticks doing the talking. It looked like a communal practice with ladles of soup poured over blanched greens, fresh vegetables, and noodles. Generous helpings of silken tofu and fragrant herbs adorning the street pho.
Most fascinating was to see people sitting in big and small cafes ubiquitously, with the chairs facing the road instead of each other. As if ‘watching the world go by’ were a national pastime, and me being me, I wanted to do the same. So, we tried fascinating coffees across several cafes, wafting bold aromas and robust flavours, whether salted, coconut, pistachio, or almond. We assimilated the touristy with the local, as if being in Hanoi bought you more hours on hand.
In complete contrast to this slow coffee culture was the electric vibe of Beer Street in the old town. Just being there made you feel more alive, more chaotic, and crazier. Blasting music, dancing people, flowing drinks, and pulsating streets could bring the dead to life. I did what I do best – watch people, strike up conversations, and cook up fantastical stories about them all in my mind. However, the experience of Hanoi would be incomplete without mentioning one of the finest pizzas of my life that I savoured at Pizza 4P’s. I am salivating as I recall and write about the tenderest bite of the juiciest grilled aubergine sitting flamboyantly over the warm and soft pizza base. Do not miss out on this ambrosial food when in Hanoi, and avoid going in as a walk-in because you have no idea of how incredibly overbooked they are.
The following day, we embarked on a cruise of Ha Long Bay to experience this magnificent natural wonder, which is recognised as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. However, I am not giving any build-up to this breathtaking view because it just didn’t take my breath away. My view may be an exception, but the landscape with its petite islands scattered along the sea was underwhelming for me. Nevertheless, the Sung Sot caves, carved out of sunken limestones and acidic water, certainly awed me with its massive proportions. A stunning marvel of stalagmites and stalactites conjured a mystical play of light and shade through its openings and crevices.
However, it is the tantalising Michelin star-level dinner service on the Ambassador Cruise that remains etched in my memory. It was extraordinary how the cruise team went to the effort of curating a fully vegetarian sit-down meal for us, all without compromising on flavours, presentation, or service. The charcoal-grilled eggplant ratatouille, served with saffron sauce, titillated and sated my taste buds entirely, while every other course was equally meticulous and delicious. Not to mention, the chef and his team even succeeded in incorporating pani puri into the Indian vegetarian buffet. The sight of it delighted the foreign passengers like small kids, while I found myself grinning in amusement.
However, as we flew out and reached Hoi An, it felt like an antique land of quaint romance. What a charming city, lit by a thousand lanterns and existing dreamily against the river. Unlike most Indian tourists, who choose to stay in Danang and visit Hoi An as a day trip, we opted to spend three languorous days in this fairy tale town. If someone were to ask me what to do there, my only response would be ‘slow down’. I slowed down to bicycle, to unwind with a massage, to sit by the river and read, to stroll around and drink, and to window shop and admire the gardening skills of the affable Vietnamese people.
I was enraptured by the copious spring in every nook and corner of that city. Multitudes of flowers in the most gorgeous colours overhung from ceilings, roofs, awnings, and entrances – just about everywhere. Their bonsai horticulture was another remarkable feat for me. But as the evening came along, the multihued lanterns in the stores, streets and river dramatised the scene most enchantingly. It transports you to an ancient site steeped in history, culture, and tradition. Hordes of shoppers, day-trippers, and travellers behold this picturesque view, ironically not so much in their eyes as in their clicks.
With the evening kerfuffle settling down, a whole new atmosphere set in on the other side of the river. As people bantered, cheered aloud, and sang along, and pubs doled out into the streets, you let loose, forgetting your goals, the grind, and the groceries. Amidst that high-octane shindig, what’s vivid in my memory is some heartwarming, crazy, and exciting jesting with my husband. That’s what a holiday is about, because what stays is not how beautiful the Taj Mahal is but what that beautiful Taj Mahal evoked in me. Hoi An, with its delectable vegan white rose dumplings, best vegetarian Banh Mi, grilled rice paper, prolific flora, abounding lanterns, revelling crowds, and insignificant fights (part of every family trip), reset and reminded me that life is more beautiful in your partner’s arms while your kids hold your hand.
Carrying that soothing sense of calm, we landed at the final destination of the trip – the balmy island of Phu Quoc. It was such a fitting culmination to the holiday, unloading ourselves into the rustic opulence of the Ocean Bay Resort against the cyan and turquoise waters of Ong Lang Beach. There is an extravaganza of things to do, shows to see and sights to cover on this island. But we stuck to the basics: we ate and drank, we read and relaxed, we swam and snorkelled. There is nothing I desire more on a beach holiday than to sip a drink by the sea, lounge with a favourite book, soak in the warm waters, meddle with the kids, and cuddle with my husband.
The sea was so inviting with its gentle tide, soft sand and pristine water that my son couldn’t get enough of it, undeterred even by the noon sun. While my daughter only cared for passion fruit juice and French fries with a book tucked under her arms.
The stillness of ‘no rush’ against the ocean breeze, the knowledge of ‘no hustle’ on the breakfast table, and the idea of a ‘lazy morning’ in a four-poster bed summarise my perfect reverie. Add to this charm the adventure of finding an unexpected reef just off the hotel beach. The sheer variety and abundance of marine life that I saw in that small and shallow reef was absolutely mesmerising. From endemic starfish to giant crabs to sea cucumbers, tiny electric blue fish, translucent jellyfish, and schools of iridescent fish in all sizes and shimmering colours surrounded us. The beauty and bounty of nature were unparalleled, which kept drawing us to discover and admire it in every swim.
Apart from spending this serene time, the only other activity we did was visit the VinWorld amusement park. In my opinion it is skippable, especially if you have visited other amusement parks in Singapore, Malaysia or Hong Kong. We also booked a deep-sea snorkelling tour which takes you to two or three protected coral reefs. Sadly so, I dropped out of it due to my lethargy, but my man did go and called it an unmatched experience of jaw-dropping coral gardens and forests, unimaginable below the sea.
By then it was time to pack – pack what we had carried from home along with what we brought and created there. It was time to pack and treasure the peals of laughter, the noise of squabbles, the slow mornings, and the dreamy days. It was time to capture and preserve the fact that my teen and pre-teen still enjoyed holidays with us, sat down for awkward and cheeky conversations, hollered at us to resolve sibling bickering, and still gave space to their parents to be individuals. This is how my album of Vietnam sits together cosily and stays alive in my memory.
~Radhika Mimani
Photo Credit: Abhishek Mimani
