If someone asked me whether I prefer Hanoi or Ho Chi Minh City, that would be a tough question. It feels like being asked to choose which of your two children you love more. One is a city of quiet, timeless charm, carrying thousands of years of history; the other is the country’s youngest, most dynamic and energetic metropolis. I love the scenery of Hanoi and the majestic nature of the northern provinces, but when it comes to working and building a long-term life, my heart leans toward the city named after Uncle Ho.
Hoan Kiem Lake is truly the heart of Hanoi. Back in my student days, I worked part-time at the largest art gallery on Hang Trong Street – just because I wanted to practice my foreign languages. For nearly two years, I was constantly surrounded by foreigners. From being shy and stuttering in English, I eventually grew confident enough to carry conversations with ease. My colleagues – brilliant girls from Foreign Trade University – were formidable rivals, pushing me to learn not only language, but also lacquer painting and oil art. To this day, I silently thank that little job for shaping me.
I have always admired the elegance of true Hanoians, like the lady who owned the gallery. She carried herself with grace and refinement, always impeccably dressed. Every evening after work, I would stroll halfway around the lake to catch my bus. Hoàn Kiếm Lake was, and still is, like a beautiful woman you can’t take your eyes off – a mysterious, enchanting beauty that never fades no matter how long you gaze at her.
I would lose myself in the willow trees leaning over the water, their reflections trembling with the ripples. The old post office clock stood steady as ever, like a timeless symbol of the capital. When lit at night, Thê Húc Bridge shimmered in red, Ngọc Sơn Temple buzzed with visitors, and in the early mornings and late afternoons, locals gathered for exercise while foreign tourists strolled hand in hand. They had traveled thousands of miles just to sit there, soaking in a beauty that is utterly unique – no other city in the world holds such charm. The Turtle Tower, steeped in heroic history, rose from the rippling water. Even amidst the endless flow of people and the honking of traffic, the lake remained tranquil, its centuries-old trees bearing silent witness to generations gone by.
In early 2022, I moved to Nhà Chung. It was just after the pandemic had been brought under control, yet the Old Quarter still felt sparse, with many shopfronts draped in “for lease” signs. Outside, a family sold fragrant bún chả, the aroma of grilled pork skewers wafting through the street, tempting every passerby. Every morning, the bells of St. Joseph’s Cathedral rang out, waking me gently. From my kitchen window I could see the lakeside constructions and the flower gardens of Hàng Trống, where I often stopped to observe the quiet rhythms of Old Quarter life. With each passing day, my affection for this neighborhood deepened.
By 2023, I was working at a travel company on Lý Quốc Sư street. I enrolled my child at a nearby school, and every afternoon, we would walk together around Hoàn Kiếm Lake. The children adored stopping by Tràng Tiền Ice Cream, where waiting in line to eat at the counter felt like an essential Hà Nội tradition. The ice cream was cheap, delicious, and nostalgic – green rice, cacao, taro…one cone was never enough.
To speak of Hà Nội is to speak of street food. From bowls of silken tofu dessert sold by an old man with a booming voice – just ten thousand đồng a bowl – to evening vendors of pork porridge, steamed corn, or sweet potatoes, the streets were alive with flavors. Fruit sellers balanced baskets of mangoes and pineapples, luring tourists to pause. In summer, chè shops overflowed with customers. The city’s snacks carry a lingering sweetness that follows you wherever you go – you’ll always find yourself yearning to taste them again.
Even waiting at a red light in the morning, you might hear revolutionary songs blaring from the ward loudspeakers. Travel companies bustled as they picked up guests bound for Hạ Long or Ninh Bình. By evening, backpackers gathered for buses to Sapa or Hà Giang. Cathedral bells tolled, while young people sat in clusters, cracking sunflower seeds, sipping tea, and people-watching – sometimes even just “watching foreigners” as a pastime. Fashionable youths posed before the cathedral for photos, adding their own flair to the timeless backdrop.
It would take countless pages to capture the beauty, soul, and poetry of Hà Nội. It’s endless. Hà Nội is memory itself, etched in my heart. Whenever I return, I long to walk once more around Hoàn Kiếm Lake, watching the sunset sink into its waters. Or to sit in a corner of Highlands Coffee or The Note Coffee, savoring the stillness of both city and soul.
Ancient banyan trees, the Book Street, the French-style cafés tucked into the Old Quarter – all are woven into literature and poetry. The women of Hà Nội – elegant, refined, and dignified – embody the city’s grace.
There’s Pizza 4P’s on Hàng Trống, a warm little restaurant where East meets West, and Quán Ăn Ngon on Phan Bội Châu, which not only serves Hà Nội specialties but offers a space steeped in Vietnamese tradition. At night, Tạ Hiện Beer Street bursts with life, while Bar 1900 Le Theatre draws the young into music. The Legend Metropole, with its century-old romantic charm, makes you feel utterly indulged.
And if you want to sip coffee while watching the trains roll by, head to Phùng Hưng. The lanterns, the old-world atmosphere – it’s the perfect place to hold onto unforgettable moments.
And you – where does your heart belong?
