Hoi An – Vietnam’s City of Lanterns, Tailors, and Terrible Self-Control

Asking me to name my favorite city in Asia is a bit like asking a mother to choose her favorite child.

Impossible.

That said, if you cornered me and demanded a Top Five at passport-point, Hoi An would absolutely make the list.

Located along the central coast of Vietnam, roughly halfway between Ho Chi Minh City and Hanoi, Hoi An is one of those rare places that seems to exist outside the normal rules of time. The city moves slower. Softer. More gracefully.

Even the traffic seems polite.

There are several ways to get there. If you’re traveling from farther away, the easiest route is to fly into Da Nang and then grab a taxi or minivan south to Hoi An. If you’re feeling adventurous — or simply enjoy punishing your spine — you can also arrive by overnight train from Hanoi or Ho Chi Minh City.

Personally, I’ve discovered that “overnight train” is travel code for “sleeping diagonally while questioning your life choices.”

Still, adventure builds character.

One of the first things you notice about Hoi An is how wonderfully walkable it is. Cars are heavily restricted in the old sections of town, and even motorbikes can’t squeeze into every little alleyway. So unlike many Southeast Asian cities where survival depends on dodging scooters like an extra in an action film, Hoi An practically begs you to slow down and wander.

And wander you will.

The city itself feels almost theatrical in its beauty. Golden-yellow buildings. Wooden shutters. Hanging lanterns swaying overhead. Tiny cafés tucked into centuries-old buildings. Every corner looks like it was designed by a travel photographer having an exceptionally good day.

Hoi An is often called “The Yellow City,” and not just because the locals collectively decided beige was boring. In many Asian cultures, yellow symbolizes prosperity and good fortune. As it turns out, it also reflects heat better — which is no small consideration when the Vietnamese sun is doing its level best to melt you into the pavement.

To get around longer distances, many visitors use Grab — Southeast Asia’s version of Uber. But one of my favorite transportation options in Hoi An was the little shuttle carts roaming around town. Imagine a gold-colored golf cart trying very hard to look sophisticated.

Oddly enough, it works.

Accommodations range from backpacker hostels to luxurious riverside resorts. My advice? Stay as close to Old Town as possible. That’s where the magic is. You’ll wake up within walking distance of lantern-lined streets, coffee shops, tailor stores, and more excellent food than any reasonable person should consume in one vacation.

Naturally, I consumed it anyway.

Hoi An may not overwhelm you with massive monuments or endless sightseeing attractions. That’s not really the point of the city. Hoi An’s charm lies in simply being there. Wandering slowly. Drinking Vietnamese coffee beside the river. Watching the lanterns glow at dusk. Pretending you only came into that tailor shop “to look.”

Spoiler alert: you are leaving with custom clothing.

Tailoring is practically an institution here. Hoi An is often called the textile capital of Vietnam, and for good reason. Custom suits, dresses, shirts, leather goods — if you can describe it, somebody here can probably make it for you by Thursday.

Possibly by lunch.

The city’s history stretches back to the 15th century, when it served as a major trading port connecting merchants from China, Japan, and India. Silk was one of the great commodities flowing through the city, and that legacy still survives today. You’ll find silk shops, weaving demonstrations, and fabric stores seemingly everywhere you turn.

And then there are the lanterns.

Ah yes… the lanterns.

Hoi An’s famous Lantern Festival officially takes place during the full moon each month, though honestly the city feels magical every evening. As darkness falls, colorful lanterns illuminate the streets and reflect upon the river while visitors drift along in small wooden boats releasing floating paper lanterns into the water below.

It is peaceful. Dreamlike. Almost impossibly beautiful.

Naturally, I spent half the evening trying not to drop my phone into the river while taking photos of it.

Somewhere out there is probably a boatman still laughing about it.

As I watched the glowing lanterns drift slowly downstream, carrying wishes into the night, I realized something about Hoi An:

It isn’t the kind of place you visit simply to “see the sights.”

It’s the kind of place you feel.

And long after you leave, some small part of you wishes you hadn’t.

Until next time.

Hoi An – The Yellow City