Food & Water

Centuries after spice and ceramic merchants converged on Hoi An,the Vietnamese river city still trades in the exotic.

VENTURE DOWN OCHRE-painted alleyways to find European pastries, seeded Scandinavian crackers and fine Indian cashmere scarves behind carved wooden doors. Colonisers and invaders have left their mark on the UNESCO World Heritage-listed ancient town, too. Sip dark, highland-grown coffee on a French-style wrought-iron balcony just big enough for two. Take a 17th-century Japanese footbridge across a canal. Spot the Chinese influence in a pagoda as well as the translucent shrimp dumplings that take their name – banh bao banh vac – from a white rose.Little wonder the “Venice of Vietnam” continues to pull people from around the world to this slice of the east coast. As dusk descends, flocks of visitors board low-slung wooden boats strung with glowing orbs or crowd the banks of the Hoai River to watch the spectacle. Lanterns transform the city at night and lantern-making classes are almost as abundant as the tailor shops that drape tourists in silk and linen. There are, however, even better ways to absorb the magic of Hoi An. Grab a bike and head for the fringes. Beeping traffic and cries of “taxi, madam?” or “masssaaaage?” give way to nipa palms – water coconut trees – growing along canals where anglers squat with bamboo poles. Rise early and stroll the streets as residents and shopkeepers sweep bougainvillea petals from flagstone doorsteps using reed brooms.

The “Venice of Vietnam” continues to pull people from around the world to this slice of the east coast.

There is always a small dog to greet and always a tiny woman in a conical hat heading somewhere, with bags of glistening herbs.Or just stop and watch the swirl of humanity. Step away from the racket and into one of the eateries that make this a gourmand’s paradise. Find fantastic coffee everywhere. The liquid that fuels the nation is served in chic cafes and roasteries, as well as temporary stalls that offer iced coffee or freshly squeezed sugar cane drinks.

TICKET TO TOUR
A short walk from the melee, Anantara Hoi An Resort sprawls along the water’s edge between swaying palms and croaking frogs. Book a riverside room – they have just undergone a major makeover. Don’t miss cooling off in the vast square pool or diving into the impressive breakfast offerings.

The resort has done a fine job of tracking down experts to lead engaging cultural tours. Guide Viet is the new face of Hoi An, an ambitious fisherman’s son with excellent self-taught English and a six-year-old child already taking extra English lessons. Meet him at dawn, when the sky is splashed with vivid pinks and yellows, and board a boat to watch fishermen gather their nets to finish a gruelling night’s work. On shore, weave among a sea of colourful plastic tubs filled with molluscs, crustaceans and still-flapping fish. Don’t expect to encounter another tourist at this roadside wholesale market, where the fishermen’s wives weigh the catch and haggle with buyers. Expect insights and a simple, impeccably fresh seafood snack, cooked deckside over a tiny burner. Later in the day, adventurous souls turn away from riverfront restaurants and head instead to smoke-scented inner lanes and stalls lined with child-sized plastic seats. At one, chef-turned-street-food-tour guide Phuoc insists slow-cooked duck congee is the ultimate nourishment for the sick, the young and the hungover. At another, quail egg-studded rice cakes are served in the shade of a giant banyan tree. Phuoc was raised on a nearby farm and he knows the personal history of each vendor. One plonks a baby in his lap, while he spears spicy grilled octopus with a toothpick and demonstrates the best way to suck snails from their shells. There is an urgency to his storytelling, as he celebrates the culinary mastery and work ethic of the women he fears may be the last of their kind. The next generation has other aspirations, he says. They don’t want to hand-roll noodles in a process so time-consuming, the artisan must begin just after midnight. For now,savour every sip of the aromatic beef noodle soup. It is ladled from a simmering vat by the daughter of the woman who devised the recipe 57 years ago.Down the street from the resort, find the work of French-born photographer Rehahn inside a converted 19th-century house. He lives in the region and his Precious Heritage Museum is a visual love letter to the faces and 54 ethnic groups of Vietnam. Five rooms are filled with fascinating video footage, richly embroidered clothing and stories behind the photographer’s world-famous images. Happily, it’s handy to the coffee éclairs at Em’s Bakery. Don’t leave Hoi An without visiting An Bang. Resorts extend either side of this handsome beach, but right here, it’s low-rise and there’s a proper village feel to the place. It’s only 5km from downtown Hoi An, a flat bike ride past water buffalo and rice fields and the market gardens of Tra Que vegetable village.

ON TRACK
Nearby Danang Airport may be the best-known exit point from Quang Nam province, but it’s not the most enjoyable. That honour goes to The Vietage by Anantara; two luxuriously appointed railway carriages that ply the line between Hoi An and similarly well-known Nha Trang. The train’s star destination lies between these two tourist hotspots, in the attractive, low-key city of Quy Nhon. And getting there really is half the fun. The journey begins on a bustling train station platform, where a smartly clad, sign-holding man ushers ticket holders towards a waiting room welcome of cool towels and dried fruit. Things only get better from there. Inside the carriage, all is serene. Six screened compartments each sport a table for two, with blankets, monogrammed slippers and a neck pillow on hand. The staff are ready, too, with processions of multi-layered cocktails and mocktails made to order at the bar. Lunch is a three-course affair, announced on individually printed menus. Dishes adda pleasingly local twist to classics and premium ingredients. So the salmon and charred asparagus includes a hit of lemongrass, and the hill station strawberry dessert is teamed with coconut yoghurt and Vietnamese basil. New Zealand guests can wash away any homesickness with a glass of Te Pa Sauvignon Blanc. Say yes to the massage, where the kneading of neck, shoulders and back is accompanied by the train’s gentle rocking. The post-massage drink is a warm, gingery, cinnamon pineapple tea. Generous windows admit mesmerising views of village life surrounded by patchwork squares of farmland and green strips of banana and tapioca plantations. Rice paddies reflect the sky and there are flashes of hot pink lotus flowers, crisscrossed powerlines, Buddhist cemeteries and rice stalk haystacks.

BACK IN TIME
Those who think you can’t top six hours of railway bliss need to disembark at Quy Nhon. While Vietnamese visitors embrace this city’s immaculately groomed oceanfront parks and boulevards, it raises a surprisingly small blip on international travel radars. The nation’s first space science centre is here. So too are the historic towers – said to be at least 800 years old – that once stood over the capital of the ancient Champa Kingdom. You can swim at the city beach, but there are prettier spots within easy driving distance. The Vietage journey exists because of one particularly lovely curve of coastline, 14km south, that is hugged by jungle-cloaked mountains and home to Anantara Quy Nhon Villas. In front of villa two, towards the southern end of Bai Xep beach, a frangipani bough leans over the private oceanfront pool at a perfect angle. This is the best spot to dry a swimsuit in the warm breeze that wafts over the sand on balmy afternoons. Swimwear is essential here; the infinity pool swim-up bar is swoon-worthy, while the East Sea is see-your-toes clear. What you wear in your front yard – each villa has its own pool – is your business. From here, walk along the private beach to a lavish treehouse-like spa for morning yoga on the deck, surrounded by birdsong. Return for the extraordinary “four hands” massage that is a symphony of coconut oil, music and bliss; a kind of duet played on a body by two women. Food fans will want to accompany executive chef Vinh on a morning jaunt to the street market in Quy Nhon. His private cooking classes begin this way, shopping alongside locals and bantering with stallholders. The lunch menu evolves among baskets full of chillies, and plastic bags of milk made from freshly husked and pressed coconuts. Back at the resort, the daily menu celebrates seafood with platters of oysters, scallops and sweet lobster tails served beneath a fairy-light canopy on the beach. Food and water, sustenance and sea, expect to encounter these pleasures again and again while traversing this enticing corner of Vietnam.