← All articles · Vietnam · 14 September 2019

Hoi An, Vietnam: A tailored ao dai, a lantern river and the Japanese bridge

Hoi An in September 2019: the Japanese covered bridge from every angle, silk lanterns after dark, floating lanterns on the Thu Bon and a bowl of cao lau.

Hoi An works the night shift. In September 2019 we joined it, ao dai and all: the old town glows after dark, and the temple gates get their own mirror ponds to show off in.

Inga in a dark ao dai embroidered with yellow blossoms beside a lily pond that reflects a golden illuminated temple gate at night, a full moon above — A tailored ao dai, a full moon, and a temple gate admiring itself in the lily pond. Hard to blame it.

We had worked our way down the coast from Hanoi, and Hoi An made the strongest case yet for simply not leaving.

The Japanese bridge, from every angle we could find

Hoi An has one building everyone photographs, and it earns it. The covered bridge sits on stone piers over a narrow green canal, and it's impossible to walk past without stopping.

The Japanese covered bridge in Hoi An seen head-on across a green canal, its tiled roof and carved ridge reflected in the water, with a yellow building on the left and a pink wall on the right — The Japanese covered bridge, doing its trick with the canal. Yellow wall on one side, pink on the other, and a perfect reflection in between.

Inga and Dileep in sunglasses and a straw hat leaning on a dark wooden railing with the Japanese covered bridge and its stone arches behind them — Obligatory. Everyone stands here, and everyone's right to.

Side view of the Japanese covered bridge showing its stone arches over the canal, white paper lanterns hanging inside, and two children posing on the paving in front — From the side you can see how it works: stone arches below, a wooden hall with lanterns above. The two on the right had their own shoot going.

Inga leaning on the balustrade inside the Japanese covered bridge under red-flowered paper lanterns, with a streaked pink and blue evening sky above the carved roof — Later, from the bridge itself, with the sky putting in the sort of effort that makes a photo look faked.

Inga standing in the pink entrance archway of the Japanese covered bridge, with carved stone panels either side and the dark wooden interior behind her — The entrance, framed in that specific Hoi An pink. Carved panels either side, cool dark passage through the middle.

Lanterns after dark

Then the sun goes down and the whole town changes job.

Dozens of teardrop-shaped silk lanterns in pink, cream and yellow hanging on wires above a night street in Hoi An, lit from within against a black sky — Look up in the old town after dark and this is the ceiling you get.

Inga standing in front of a night market stall packed with hundreds of glowing silk lanterns in red, orange, green and white, with shoppers passing on the left — A single stall, and more lanterns than most towns own in total.

Round and teardrop silk lanterns in orange, pink, teal and white stacked on a metal frame in a dark alley, glowing against the shadows — Round ones on the rack, teardrops below. Every alley has a version of this.

Inga standing at a railing beneath a large carved gold sign reading Hoi An, with hundreds of small coloured floating lanterns scattered across the dark river behind her — Under the Hoi An sign on the bridge, with the river doing the rest of the work.

Dileep sitting cross-legged in a small wooden rowing boat on the Thu Bon river at night, holding a blue paper lotus lantern, with the lit riverfront behind him — You buy a paper lotus, someone rows you out, and you set it on the water. That's the whole ritual, and it's worth every dong.

The lit facade of a Chinese communal house in Hoi An at night, with red lanterns either side of the entrance, gilded characters above the door and clipped conifers in pots on the steps — One of the old Chinese communal houses, lit up and quiet, a street away from all the noise.

Ao dai, assembly halls and one very good bowl

Inga in a navy ao dai embroidered with yellow blossoms and a pink-trimmed conical hat, leaning against a tree trunk wrapped in gold ribbon on a quiet street — The ao dai out for a walk. The tree came pre-wrapped in gold ribbon, which felt like showing off.

Inga in a navy and yellow ao dai and conical hat walking across a rain-soaked stone courtyard towards a Chinese assembly hall with a golden incense urn, painted door guardians and red lanterns — One of the Chinese assembly halls after a downpour, with the courtyard turned into a mirror and a gold urn sitting in the middle of it.

Inga in a black ao dai with yellow embroidery and matching yellow trousers, wearing a conical hat printed Hoi An, walking along a cobbled riverbank with houses on the far shore — Down on the riverbank in the flat light before the rain. The hat says Hoi An on it, in case anyone was in doubt.

Dileep in a straw trilby and glasses smiling on a terrace with a parasol overhead, palm trees and the Thu Bon river with a low bridge stretching out behind him — A terrace over the river, a hat that got a lot of use, and a bridge heading off towards the coast.

A white bowl of cao lau: thick pale noodles topped with sliced mock meat, crisp golden croutons and fresh green herbs and lettuce, on a slatted wooden table — Cao lau, which you can't really eat anywhere else. Thick noodles, crisp squares on top, herbs by the handful.

We were based an hour up the coast in Da Nang and came down here most evenings, which we'd recommend to anyone. Further south, Nha Trang and Ho Chi Minh City rounded out that Vietnam run.

Dileep also shot Hoi An properly rather than snapshot-style, and those frames live together in the Hoi An gallery.