Hội An is often remembered for its ochre façades and lantern-lit nights, but the city’s pulse lies in its everyday routines. At dawn, the Thu Bồn River is already alive: fishermen casting nets, women unloading baskets of herbs and vegetables, and boats ferrying goods to the central market. The water is not just scenery — it is the city’s spine, carrying food, trade, and stories from upstream villages to the heart of town.
Step away from the Old Quarter and the rhythm changes. In the backstreets, tailors cut fabric in open workshops, bicycle bells echo through narrow lanes, and families prepare offerings at small shrines tucked between houses. The scent of incense mixes with the aroma of morning phở, reminding you that Hội An is not only a preserved port but also a lived-in town where traditions continue quietly, beyond the tourist gaze.
Evenings bring a different kind of theater. While the Old Town glows with lanterns, locals gather along the riverbanks to share food, laughter, and stories. Children chase each other through alleys, vendors grill skewers by the roadside, and the air fills with music from small cafés. It is in these moments — away from the postcard views — that Hội An feels most alive: a city that balances memory with motion, heritage with habit, and history with the quiet persistence of daily life.
The first lasting contact between Vietnam and Europe came in 1535, when Portuguese explorer and sea captain Antônio de Faria anchored near the port village of Faifo — today’s Hội An. His attempt to establish a permanent trading post ultimately faltered, but the encounter marked the beginning of European interest in the region. The Portuguese labeled the area Cochinchina, a name that would echo through centuries of colonial maps, and their presence opened the way for later waves of merchants, missionaries, and rival empires. Though short‑lived, de Faria’s arrival signaled the start of Vietnam’s entanglement with global trade and European expansion
The countryside begins just a short ride away. Rice paddies stretch toward the horizon, dotted with water buffalo and farmers in conical hats. Villages specialize in crafts — pottery in Thanh Hà, vegetable gardens in Trà Quế — each one a reminder that Hội An’s prosperity has always depended on the land as much as the river. These places reveal a slower, more grounded side of the city, where daily labor sustains the beauty visitors admire.
© 2026 Francisco Morais