We say our fond farewells to Banana Garden Villa and this time it’s for real. 41 nights in total over three visits have been wonderful. It also marks out last night in Vietnam with the next stop, one night in KL airport.
We’re going posh for the airport hotel. You can tell it’s posh when we spot a fridge in reception just for cold towels, the TV remote control comes with its own leather folder – yes, seriously – and there’s a keypad to switch on lights and close the curtains.
So, what to do? It’s already 5pm as we have an early flight the next day. One option would be a budget challenging £20 and half an hour train ride away (not including a manic golf buggy ride to and from the airport station) to the centre of KL. The other option is to enjoy an evening in the luxury hotel with its remarkably good value food & drink.
So, we do the central KL option. This allows us to hit one of our favourite foodie places, Sushi Zanmai, get some essentials (i.e. fizzy sweets) from Mr DIY and blow out on a big bottle of gorgeous Oudh Lush shower gel. All of which are handily located at the central train station mall. We also see, from a distance, all the KL big towers one last time. Do we regret doing this? Not one bit.
A lovely & luxurious way to finish our time in Japan and south east Asia. Next stop is the cheap, unassuming, rainy & freezing cold of Dubai for three nights – errr, not on all those counts.
We had two weeks to play with in our SE Asia itinerary. Sadly, at the point we had to decide, Myanmar and Thailand had just been rocked by a devastating earthquake and it was unclear whether more would follow. So we decided that we would return (again) to Hoi An – not least because it would be Chloe’s birthday while we were there and who doesn’t want to be somewhere lovely on their birthday? Plus, the Doctor Who finale would be airing, making reliable(ish) internet a non-negotiable.
We’ve been to Hoi An in May/June before but, somehow, we forgot just how much the heat and humidity rocket. Instead of temperatures in the high 20s, it was mid 30s, with humidity that put the ‘feels like’ temperature in the late 40s. There’s a phrase we save only for days like these – ‘ohmygoditshot’. It was put to good use.
The first week was very relaxing; trips into town for a little light tailoring, cycle rides up the riverside. On Chloe’s birthday, the Banana Garden Villa staff showed they’re at the top of their game by bringing out a cake and flowers at breakfast to the strains of ‘happy birthday’. They do this with every guest who is lucky enough to be there on their special day, and it’s enormously sweet.
During the second week, temperatures rose and so did our ambitions. Back in April, we joined a group tour to some local sites, including the Marble Mountain, but the guide was in a hurry and it was too hot for Chloe to get all the way to the top in one go. She paused to let the rest of the party go up and come back down but the tour was scheduled to leave the mountain by a different route, so Allan had to peel off and retrieve her. Returning in June, we still had half a mountain to climb.
So, Marble Mountain take two. Here’s the good bit – we initially walked up from the bottom but there is an elevator that will get you a good third of the way up. Reasoning that we’d already ‘done’ the first bit, we jumped in the lift to take us most of the way to our earlier stopping point.
We still had a good few hundred uneven steps to the highest point and, even in the morning, it felt like 40+ degrees. Chloe busted out her signature strategy for getting through a gruelling climb, which mainly consists of a lot of swearing and wailing ‘I just can’t!’ until she gets to the top. Allan took it in his stride, while offering gentle encouragement. As you can see, he enjoyed the achievement immediately, whereas Chloe was glad she’d done it about four hours later.
Unwilling to lose momentum, we did the stupid tourist thing for the next couple of days – take bikes out in the extreme heat.
On day one, we battled hot headwinds to visit the Locust Cafe in the middle of Hoi An’s rice paddies. Lime juice and strawberry smoothies were our reward. The rice fields were in a different stage of cultivation compared to last time. Then it was all emerald acres, now the rice had been harvested and the bare, brown fields were being prepared for the next sowing.
On day two, we made it as far as the beach so we could see the sea before we left. Allan resisted buying yet another brightly coloured silk shirt, but we still left with a couple of presents for those back home. This time the sun was unrelenting on our return trip and we arrived back hot and soggy. Thank heavens for laundry services, who have been doing an average of 2kg a day of our stuff. We love them.
So, now it’s our last day in Vietnam. We hit the riverside last night and, along with the usual display of brightly decorated cruise boats of different sizes, we were delighted by the return of the karaoke boat. Everyone was having a ball. Sound on.
Travelling for many months is such a wonderful thing.
We had 35 days in Vietnam and the first 14 days were due to be in Hoi An to have right restful time. This objective was well and truly completed. All at the same hotel, Banana Garden Villa.
After a week in the madness of Hue, what to do next. Will it be the sights of Ha Long Bay? The mountains of Dalat? The big cities of Ha Noi or Saigon? The mighty Mekong river delta? Err, no, we go back to Hoi An. To the same hotel. But in a deluxe room instead of a superior. For another 13 nights.
Hoi An is a superb place. It’s big enough to have things to see, a beach nearby and, a big draw, 300 odd tailors. We see a few things, including cycling to the beach, a huge lady Buddha, the Terracotta park with memories of home thanks to its global model village, old trading houses. We also get a shed load of souvenirs and presents. But, it still seems to have retained a lot of small town charm.
We hit the tailors. Allan asks the tailor to copy his most favourite trousers, a pair of pretty expensive Ralph Lauren ones that he has with him that are slightly falling apart. They do an exact copy in linen. I mean exact – apart from the falling apart bit. They are so good, five more pairs in various colours and fabrics were ordered at a way cheaper price that Ralph Lauren. Chloe gets tops, trousers, skirt and a jacket made in various colours including green, white, black and blue. All fit perfectly.
We buy enough clothes and presents to post two boxes back to the UK, including the coats and jumpers we needed for Japan that we’re definitely not going to need for the rest of the holiday.
Anyhow, back to the wonders of long travels. Staying in the same place allows us to start getting a little insight into the area and the people.
The place across the road from the hotel who keep chickens have a dog. It takes its guard role seriously, letting other passing dogs know to “get away from my chickens” and also tries to round up any chickens who escape from the front. The former is way more successful than the latter.
The local shop owners get to know us. We still don’t get the local price for groceries, but at least we have a chat.
The local restaurants welcome us like long lost family. They know, or at least guess, what drink we’ll have and agree to do off-menu specials. And OMG, that Prawn in peppercorn was utterly lovely, they simply must put it on the menu.
And a special mention to our hotel in Hoi An, the wonderful Banana Garden Villa. It is everything that a smallish (30 odd rooms) hotel should be. The rooms are huge and feel like they are the size of our flat back home. The staff are so friendly and smiles everywhere, but we don’t think it’s all superficial. They work so damn hard to keep the place spotless, cleaning and changing beds every day. They are up at the crack of dawn starting breakfast. They are up late at night checking people in. They advise on tours without any hard sell – quite the difference from almost everywhere else in Hoi An or Vietnam.
So, we say our fond farewells to Vietnam and Hoi An. Or do we?
The answer is no. We’ve now changed plans and are leaving Malaysia two weeks earlier than planned. To come back to Vietnam. To come back to Hoi An. To come back to Banana Garden Villa.
The Banana staff reaction was “you’re coming home”, mishearing this, we thought they said that “you’re now going home” so we said, no, we’re actually going to be coming back to Hoi An! We stand corrected and are told “No, you’re coming home, this is now your home”.
Banana Garden Villa – you can check out any time you like…but you can never leave.
Contrary the impression we gave in our last post, Hue isn’t all noise, crowds, and moped fumes. For a century and a half, until 1945, it was the capital of Vietnam and seat of the Nguyen dynasty of emperors. As a result, it has more than its fair share of historic landmarks and war-related destruction, but still contains pockets of relative peace and tranquility.
Bang in the centre is the Imperial Citadel – a vast complex, surrounded by 10km of walls and moats, that housed palaces, administrative buildings, and temples. The power of the Nguyen dynasty declined in the face of French control in the late nineteenth century. The Imperial City was already a shell of its former glory when a six-week stand-off between Vietnamese and French forces in 1945, and between South Vietnamese/US and North Vietnamese forces in 1968, largely completed its destruction.
Last time we visited in 2011, large areas of the complex were still featureless squares of grass. Fifteen years later, it’s transformed with new landscaping around many restored and reconstructed buildings.
Two things strike us immediately. One: it’s quiet. Oh, so quiet. Aaaah. We wander for a couple of hours between the smaller keeps that make up the wider complex, each walled with its own gardens. Two: there seem to be lots of professional photo shoots going on. Dozens of people are dressed in traditional Vietnamese costumes and posing for photos in front of magnificent buildings. It takes us a few days to work out that this is not a graduation ceremony, magazine shoot, or PR campaign – it’s a pastime. Vietnamese people make a day out of it by hiring beautiful outfits and having photography done by pros or just friends.
Beyond the Citadel, the Nguyen emperors were big on tombs, seven of which are dotted around the outskirts of Hue. These are not humble grave sites – each is a palace in its own right. Many emperors started designing and building them before their deaths and most took decades to finish.
Through the next week we visit four and quickly discern a pattern to their layout. All are set in beautiful gardens. All guarded by a set of statues – elephants, horses, and warriors. All feature a huge stone tablet with the emperor’s eulogy carved on it, often flanked by two huge pillars. These features guide you to the final resting place, usually contained within its own walled sanctuary.
Each, though, has its own distinct flavour. The tomb of Minh Mang (ruled 1820-1839) was all precision, symmetry, and order – suited to the emperor who set up administration systems, initiated public works, stood up to foreign incursion (whether military, trade, or religion), and consolidated Vietnam’s power in the region.
The tomb of Tu Duc (ruled 1847-1883) is all winding waterways and pretty vistas, often described as ‘poetic’ it suits an emperor consumed by self-doubt and whose regime ultimately surrendered to the French.
Emperor Khai Dinh (ruled 1916-1925) was little more than a puppet ruler, very unpopular with ordinary people, and sealed his reputation when he created enormous hardship for Vietnamese peasants by raising taxes to pay for his own (rather magnificent and towering) tomb.
Dong Khanh (ruled 1885-1889) was the first of the French puppet emperors. His tomb is not as grand as others but in its grounds are two others for Nguyen princes. In amongst cool woods and largely open air, they were by far the prettiest we visited.
Finally, we saw the Thien Mu pagoda. A Buddhist temple, first raised in 1601, it became a focal point of resistance against the Vietnamese government in 1963. Famously, one of its monks, Thich Quang Duc, drove with others to Saigon where he burned himself to death in protest at the persecution of Buddhists by the regime. Pictures flew around the world and, ultimately, speeded the downfall of the government. The blue Ford Austin they drove that day is now housed at the temple.
Despite its history of resistance and revolution, the temple itself is serene; full of landscaped gardens, pools of koi, bonsai trees, and butterflies. The contrast with its history and with Hue itself couldn’t be more carp…er, stark.
Two weeks of relaxation in Hoi An and it’s time to move on to the historic city of Hue, seat of the Nguyen dynasty of Emperors, more on whom later. We arrive at our small but perfectly formed hostel in the centre of town. Being posh backpackers, we have the big front room with a balcony that overlooks a little side street. Birds sing and huge butterflies bob and weave amongst the branches that overhang the courtyard below. After a three-hour drive, we’re ready for an afternoon nap and we awake in the early evening to the strains of…
…banging techno. Yes, it appears that our little hostel, and particularly our font facing room, is next door to a bar. A big bar. And it’s one that takes its ‘all night long’ claim very seriously. The music starts at 5.55pm and finishes around 5.55am. You can feel the bass through the bedroom wall. Their efforts are supported by barking dogs, revving motorbikes (Hue is the home of countless ‘easy riders’ who will take you anywhere in the country on two-wheels), and a guy on a pedal bike with a remarkably powerful amp system selling his fresh omelettes up and down the street all night. All. Night.
By the second day, we are seriously sleep deprived. Yet, despite our increasingly twitchy eyes and gradually dissolving brains, we are quite fond of the area we find ourselves in. It’s one of a set of three ‘walking streets’ in downtown Hue, which close to motorised traffic every Friday, Saturday and Sunday night. The rule is actually enforced, unlike in Hoi An, so that people can spill out across the roads without constantly looking over their shoulders for a moped or taxi bearing down on them.
As far as we can tell, there’s about a 50/50 split of locals and tourists. That means the music is mostly Vietnamese, with a smattering of Korean and Chinese artists. Families are out in the early evening and it’s also very popular for grown-ups’ birthday parties, many of which feature lots of group chants and one solitary karaoke offering towards the end of the night from the birthday girl or boy.
There are some decent restaurants, including our favourite – Maison Trang. Tucked away at the end of a dog-leg alley, it escapes the worst of the noise despite being very busy (it’s a table-sharing set up) and so popular that people are queuing for a seat by 7.30pm. Unlike most places, its vegetarian options are just as good as the meat, it offers straightforward home-style cooking, it’s cheap, and portions are plentiful – so Chloe and Allan are both very, very happy.
We quickly realise that the only way through the week will be to do things in the morning then come back and sleep through the strangely peaceful afternoons. I mean, omelette-man still plies his endless loop and dogs continue to bark. The bar next door uses the downtime to do maintenance, build new barbecues, dump the empty bottles from the night before. The easy riders congregate, revving their engines and accosting tourists with promises of the wind in their hair and freedom of the open road. But, you know, relatively peaceful…
Wembley. Kick Off – 16 March 2025. 16:30 and Hoi An. 23:30.
This could have been my seat.
With this view.
Instead it was this.
Incredibly, the toon go 1-0 up. Big Dan Burn – you beautiful giant giraffe man. It’s half time, the dream is alive.
Then soon into the second half, Isak scores, there’s limbs in the toon end and the Hoi An bedroom. But hang on, it’s being VAR’d and in the middle of the VAR check the laptop TV connection dies. It’s not even 10 mins into the 2nd half.
I resorted to the backup (got to have a backup!) of watching the match on the phone instead. It’s now 2-0, so the VAR check said “goal”? No other explanation, but, no, I find out (at the end of the match) it was an entirely different, but lovely Isak goal. “Gimme gimme gimme a goal after midnight” is sung in honour of our Swedish goalscoring superhero.
The tension was immense, especially as the video feed was 2 minutes behind actual time.
Liverpool scored in the 94th minute, OMG, that was not good. Surely we can’t mess that up. Surely. And don’t call me Shirley.
But, the was happiness to come both at Wembley, Newcastle and a small town over 9,500km way. Apologise to neighbours for the roar & sweary joyous ranting that came from room 107 at somewhere past 2am.
A balmy and glorious night and early morning in Hoi An. This place will always be memorable for many things, but now we must include where I was when Newcastle United won the first proper trophy in my lifetime. It’s literally now time to get me suit measured.
This was Hoi An right after the match. Party Time.
Thanks especially to my esteemed Wembley correspondents Dave & Isaac for the videos and photos, the updates and the Whatsapp call in the stadium straight after final whistle – it felt like I was there.
And the players, the manager, all the staff. Give them statues, give them knighthoods, give them pay rises, give them the freedom of Newcastle. You have just made an entire area (except SR postcodes) & one lad in central Vietnam more happy than Mr Happy with a happy thing in Happyville, Happyland.
In the last blog post, there was a warning that we’d not be doing very much here in Hoi An. Well, have I got news for you, that was true. However, we have had time for a visit to one of the tailors, have some lovely food, obviously, and a 5km each way cycle ride to the beach.
The ride to (and especially from) the beach is gorgeous. Small paths between paddy fields and over a river are the most scenic route and avoid the busy main road to Da Nang. The beach itself is not that busy, clean and massive.
This is called “hidden beach” so obviously we can’t tell you where it is as we get sworn the secrecy on arrival (we don’t and it’s on Google maps) and is so much nicer than the beach we attempted to stay near last time in Hoi An. A perfect paddling beach and just can see Ma Cowley doing as much if she came here. And if you look carefully, you can see the monstrously big tower blocks of Da Nang far into the distance.
Back to the food. We’ve said before, but Hoi An is quite a place for choice and quality of food. In the last few days we’ve had Vietnamese curry, quality Pizza, more Vegan delights from Peanuts and Greek. All of which come to a bargain price compared to home, although the Greek one was pushing to an outrageous (!) £25 – must be a top end establishment or lots of imported goods.
Next up, when they are ready, clothes we’ve had made for us.
We’re lucky enough to have been to the central Vietnam city of Hoi An twice before. Once when it was slightly chilly and rainy and another when it was 46 degrees and 98% humidity. This time it seems somewhere in the middle, a bit grey but still warm and humid.
Hoi An is one of our good places. On each previous visit, one of us was just recovering from the slightly inevitable food poisoning we succumbed to elsewhere. Hoi An rejuvenated us by being busy, but not quite as hectic as the rest of Vietnam, and with all the home comforts and facilities that a popular foreigner tourist destination has. The hotel we stayed at last time perfectly summed up Hoi An; a calm oasis, great service, but building works happening next door during our stay.
We stay again at the wonderful Banana Garden Villa. It has expanded by almost double since last time – now we know what the building works were! The rooms are spotless, the service wonderfully friendly and efficient, and the breakfast great. The receptionist spots a bag of laundry when we check-in, she whips it off us and get everything cleaned by the next morning – yes, they are that good.
The downsides are occasional loud karaoke nearby and, of course, some building works up the street. Neither of these disturb us, although some of those karaoke singers are REALLY bad and very loud. There is no such thing as an oasis of total calm in Hoi An, no matter what some hotels name themselves, so we’re very happy with our choice. £21 gets you a superior room or £25 gets you a deluxe one and both get you that lovely breakfast.
So what to do for the next two weeks? The answer is very little. We had this pencilled in as proper chill-out time where we fully relax after Japan and Danang. There’s lots of fabulous food places, over 300 tailors to create custom-made clothes, and day trips to various places. And did I say relaxation too?
There’s likely not going to be many posts over the next two weeks. But, some news of note, we tried the wonderful Peanuts restaurant. It’s a vegan place and somewhat to his surprise, Allan liked it. A lot. This is their vegan Banh Mi – a staple that is normally a pork fest – and is utterly delicious.
More foody pictures to come I’m sure. In the meantime, much relaxing coming up interspersed by some terrible loud singing. Very nice.
Compared to the serenity and organisation Japan, Vietnam was always going to be a bit of a shock. It’s loud, brash, chaotic, scams in plain sight (“I’m your Grab driver” – even though we hadn’t even booked a Grab Taxi yet…), smoking seems mandatory instead of being hidden away, and it’s nowhere near as spotlessly clean as Japan. We’ve been here before so should have expected this, but it feels like an entirely different planet. Hanoi airport and Da Nang city are particularly harsh smacks in the face for our previous Japanese zen-like serenity.
Our hotel kindly kept our booking even though we’re only staying two nights instead of the previous four nights booked. Although we did pay in advance, they could have cancelled without any refunds, so that was good. However, we do feel slightly mis-sold by the hotel as the photos on hotels.com are very generous compared to reality. It’s right in the centre of the busy seaside area of Da Nang and our balcony on 10th floor is so small with barely enough room to stand and that brings out a little vertigo in us, so we we don’t go out again. Glad we are only staying two nights, but, the staff are lovely, the beer is ice-cold, and the breakfast has choice and tastiness beyond words.
We soon see one of the great parts of Vietnam for travellers on somewhat limited budgets. My goodness, the food here is amazing and although we found Japan cheap compared to the UK, it has nothing on Vietnam. We hit one of the posh restaurants in a very nice hotel on our first night. Tripadvisor is warning us that it is £££ expensive. Main courses are around 130,000 dong (less than £4) so, thinking that they must be pretty small dishes at those prices at that place, Allan orders two of them; Pork in garlic fish sauce and the Spicy Prawns. They were not pretty small dishes. We fully recommend Ca Go in the Haian Beach Hotel.
The next day, still in recovery and acclimatisation mode, we hit a familiar place for dinner – Pizza 4Ps. We came here back in 2017, when it was the first time we’d ever seen half and half pizza. We are extremely pleased to report that it is as good as it was back then and we totally stuff our faces.
So, after a couple of days in Da Nang, it’s time to move onto Hoi An. From our previous experience, it’s a way more chilled out and relaxed place. Will it still be? See the next post for details.
Last time we were in Vietnam, Chloe got exorcist-style food poisoning that laid her out for a good few days. So there were naturally a few nerves when we arrived into Da Nang three weeks ago. Early escape options were planned, with Singapore or a return to Kuala Lumpar as possible alternative destinations.
Three weeks later, we left central Vietnam on schedule having done very little. It has been very relaxing, interesting and, apart from one place beside the beach, all accommodation we have stayed at has been good value, extremely friendly and of a very high standard.
The food has generally been absolutely excellent. We enjoyed the best pizza we’ve ever eaten, demolished two lots of Indian curry reminding us of home, had the best ever veggie noodle soup for breakfast and we found a couple of great Vietnamese places doing home-cooked delights. All this and fantastic cafés. Cathartic.
Added to all this, the tailors of Hoi An knocking up excellent quality, cheap custom-made suits and other clothes in barely 24 hours, says to us that we’ll definitely be coming back to Vietnam, and especially to Hoi An.
So, here goes for Vietnam, things we’ll miss:
Genuine friendliness. Ok, ok, staff in hotels and shops are meant to be friendly. However, the hospitality and warmth we received went well beyond just good training. Being greeted by all staff, by first name, when we first see them in the morning is just plain lovely. But genuine friendliness is there in all contact, whether this be grandma and kids walking down the road when we were sitting having a cold drink and she insisted the kids wave and say “hello” to us or seeing all the smiley faces when taking the photo tour.
Traffic free Hoi An. No motorised traffic is allowed for most of the day, so getting around Hoi An was a pleasure and even got us back on our bikes We really enjoyed our cycling, despite the heat, even though after 15 minutes it looked like we’d just come out of the shower. The only issue was the number of large tour groups who thought they owned the streets and insisted on not looking out for other pedestrians or cyclists. Idiots.
Coffee shop view. As mentioned in the previous post, we found a coffee shop with a view. We saw locals taking their chickens out for a walk, tourists posing for photos, tourists being accosted (in the nicest possible way) by old ladies carrying fruit who happily posed for “a photo for a dollar” and watching the boats go across and down the river. And it did great coffee.
And what we won’t miss:
The heat and humidity. Oh my god, it was hot and humid. 37c with 90% humidity equated to feeling like late 40s. We, like all western tourists, were literally dripping with sweat after barely 10 minutes walk. We had to change clothes up to 3 times a day. Thank goodness for cheap and very quick laundry!
Construction. This part of Vietnam is one big construction site. It is not a matter of IF there is construction work near your hotel, but how noisy it is and early it starts. We got lucky for most of the time, but being away from concrete mixers, drilling, hammering and sheet metal cutters will be very pleasant.
Coughing. The whole “cover your mouth when coughing” doesn’t seem to have reached Vietnam. Bloke walking along the street? Not really okay. The serving staff hacking away onto cutlery when laying the table in a restaurant? Err, no, definitely not okay.
