A Haven in Heavenly Hoi An

So I arrived in Hoi An fully prepared to loathe the place for its hectic commercialism and fully expecting to find nothing other than garish 70s throwback architecture. The location of our hotel didn't do much to reassure me, surrounded by scooter hire shops, laundries and mini marts. It was with something of a heavy heart that I joined the group to follow Sam on a brief walking tour of the town. But after about 10 minutes something began to change - the scooter shops and convenience stores faded away as the streets widened and became lined with yellow painted shopfront houses with mossy tiled roofs. Suddenly we were both miles and years away from the modern Vietnam that had so far confronted us. This town, dating back to the 16th Century and influenced by the Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese and European cultures that had taken up residence, was now a UNESCO World Heritage site and it's sense of serenity was helped immeasurably by local laws restricting the use of motorbikes on its central streets.

With my preconceptions exploding all around me I realised I was falling in love with this little town. It might be packed to the gunnels with shops, bars and restaurants aimed at tourists but it felt aged and graceful in the same way that some of my favourite towns in Italy do. Maybe that was why I liked it so much, it felt like a little slice of renaissance Italy in the middle of Vietnam. I always knew i'd been born in the wrong place at the wrong time. We were soon set free to explore and I spent my time contentedly wandering the little labyrinth of interconnecting streets and tiny alleyways, snapping away with my camera and browsing in the many shops whenever I saw anything that caught me eye. The bustling shops were jammed with clothes, jewellery, carvings, paintings, pashminas and hand made lanterns - anything you could possible want as a souvenir or a gift. Hours could easily be spent poring over all the goodies on offer but knowing that we had three nights here, I soon found myself champing at the bit to do something other than shop.

So while many of the others headed to the nearby beach the following day, I was back in the old town with a mission to explore some more, seeking out the traditional local market, the Thu Bon river at the heart of the town and the many ancient houses and communal halls that lined the streets. The market lined the streets nearest the river and was populated by elderly women, squatted on low stools at the edge of the pavement with their goods, mostly fruit and vegetables, spread out on mats before them. It's a phenomenon that I'd noted in many other towns we'd visited that markets here often seem jammed with rows of stalls selling identical fare and Hoi An was no different. Every wicker behatted woman seemed to be selling the same dragon fruit and mangoes which wouldn't seem to be an advisable business strategy and yet they all appeared to have customers. Maybe they are on some sort of roster system? The market, the women and their goods were a great source of photographic material even if I'm still a bit nervous of offending people by snapping them without permission. The traders were nonchalant though and when spotted taking a sneaky snap I was usually rewarded with a wry smile as if to say 'whatever floats your boat darling'.

Some of the town's old shophouses had been saved from conversion to tourist stores and preserved in their original condition. These aged merchant houses, built when the Thu Bon river was a bustling thoroughfare for the transportation of goods, are similar to others found in Vietnam's older quarters. There's space for a small shop at the front, an open courtyard in the centre and more space at the back, opening directly onto the river where merchandise could be brought in through the back door. The interiors are darkened by the hardwood walls with one that I visited, the Tan Ky house, having the timber of the Jackfruit tree in its columns. These columns are exquisitely inlaid with mother of pearl Chinese letters, which when examined closely, are not just blank letters but formed from the shapes of different birds. The artistic attention to detail is stunning, even if the chance to admire it for long is stymied by the guide's brusque orders to move on to make room for the next swathe of tourists.

Besides the shophouses, Hoi An also boasts a beautiful Japanese covered bridge, a small but perfectly formed arch of red painted wood, with a little temple to the Taoist god known as the 'Emperor of the North', who controlled the wind and rain so was a particular favourite of the local sailors. There are also several Chinese assembly halls, used by the Chinese-born traders who took up residence to organise themselves according to their place of origin and provide a place to worship and meet. The most extravagant of these is the Cantonese Hall, with a huge water feature starring a large painted dragon pouring water, rather than fire, out of his nostrils straight into the mouth of a waiting, gaping carp. All a bit unhygienic if you ask me. I also loved the large red spinal cones of incense that hung from the ceiling, their lit ends sending wafts of perfumed air into the temple's interior.

By night Hoi An was even more entrancing. As well as the local by-laws stopping motorbikes cutting up the streets another forced all businesses to hang lanterns outside their properties. At night as the coloured lanterns lit up the shadowy streets it seemed like Hoi An was permanently in carnival mood. By the river young girls sold coloured paper boats to tourists - each boat held a small candle and was carefully lowered onto the water, sent on its way with a gentle prod and accompanied by a whispered wish. The river was soon awash with bobbing, multicoloured lights offering only a small hint as to what Hoi An would be like during its monthly Full Moon festival when the town centre closes entirely to traffic and every lantern in town is lit.

But don't be fooled by all my cultural ramblings. I was not immune to the lure of the shops or, indeed, Hoi An's speciality, speedy made to measure tailoring. Every street featured several tailors' shops, each promising to make any item of clothing, from a sample, photo or drawing, to your personal measurements and usually within 24 to 48 hours. I originally had no plans to venture inside but when I joined some of the group who were better prepared I soon found myself drawing pictures of my favourite style of top and picking out some fabric for them. Over the next two days I went back for fittings until I was the proud owner of two custom made tops and a sneaky pair of trousers. (The latter unfortunately fell foul of the inexpert laundry service of a Cambodian hotel and were reduced to doll size. Shame as they were the most comfortable trousers I'd ever owned!).

Our visit to Hoi An also coincided with the only birthday during our trip, that of the lovely Marie, a retired nurse from Australia who was travelling with her husband, Bob. The group duplicitly pretended to have no inkling that it was her birthday all day so it was something of a surprise when a heart shaped starter turned up for her during our evening meal. Accompanied with a big bunch of flowers. And a bottle of Aussie champagne. And a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday. I think she was genuinely shocked and pleased (see the photographic evidence below) so kudos to Sam for the organisation. And to us, who managed to take a French girl shopping for champagne and still came home with Oz fizz.

A quick side note on some of the food I sampled in Hoi An. Particularly nice were the 'white rose dumplings' or Banh bao which are steamed manioc-flour parcels of shrimp with lemon and sugar and a sprinkling of crunchy onion flakes on top. The name comes from the petal shape of the wraps and they are delicate and light and packed with flavour. Also highly recommended is cao lau - noodles in a light broth flavoured with star anise and topped with pork slices and pork rind croutons. Delicious. I always find it difficult to eat at lunchtime in a very hot climate but I more than make up for it at dinner time.

So it was with some reluctance that we were dragged away from Hoi An for our flight to Ho Chi Minh City, or as it's much better known, Saigon.

Return later for more tales of scary bike trips and scary tunnel crawls.

Photos below: Lantern shop in Hoi An; market trader in Hoi An; fruit on the move in Hoi An; Hoi An shop front; Marie's birthday surprise; Hoi An's Japanese covered bridge.