Hoi An

Hoi An was a major trading port from the 15th to the 19th century. Chinese merchants passed through, so did Japanese traders, Dutch ships and Portuguese ones. What they left behind is UNESCO-listed and intact: yellow-walled merchant houses, a Japanese covered bridge, clan houses whose beams are still dark with centuries of incense smoke.

Tailoring made the town's modern reputation. Backpackers discovered decades ago that a bespoke silk suit could be made here in 24 hours for less than a restaurant meal in London, and that reputation endures. The best tailors, though, are rarely the ones with English-language signs on the main street.

Hoi An's food is just as distinct. White rose dumplings. Cao lau noodles, made with water drawn from a single ancient well. Banh mi lifted into something closer to art. Central Vietnamese cooking is the most complex in the country, and this town is its capital, which is why we time visits around the Full Moon Lantern Festival, the one evening a month when the electric lights go off and paper lanterns drift down the Thu Bon River instead.

The old town itself is compact, flat, and best covered on foot or by bicycle, ideally early morning or evening once the day-trippers from Da Nang have thinned out. A single ticket opens a selection of heritage sites: old merchant houses, assembly halls, museums, the Japanese Covered Bridge. At the Tan Ky house, the same family has lived for generations, and the building itself shows how Chinese, Japanese and Vietnamese styles were combined under one roof. The Fujian Assembly Hall, with its ornate gate and coiled incense, is the grandest of the Chinese clan halls.

Beyond the walls, the countryside rewards the same bicycle. Tra Que, a vegetable village a short ride out, grows the herbs that flavour the town's cooking, and some farms run cooking classes alongside the fields. To the east, the Cam Thanh water coconut forest is known for its basket-boat rides through the palms. An Bang beach, a few kilometres from the old town, stays quieter than the busier Cua Dai, with good seafood restaurants right on the sand.

My Son, around an hour away, is a UNESCO-listed complex of Hindu temples built by the Cham between the fourth and thirteenth centuries. War damaged many of them, but the towers still standing in the jungle carry real atmosphere, especially early in the morning before the heat sets in. Between Hoi An and Da Nang, the Marble Mountains add caves and pagodas with views out over the coast.

Anyone planning to have clothes made should allow at least three days for fittings. Bring a photograph, or an example of the style you want, and check the fabric and stitching closely: better tailors tend to take longer and charge more, and it usually shows in the finish.

February to April brings the best weather, warm and dry. May to August turns hot, and the rainy season, September to December, can flood the old town outright, with the river rising straight into the streets, though a visit timed for the rains can still be worthwhile if your plans stay flexible.

Da Nang airport is around forty-five minutes away by road. Hue, the former imperial capital, sits about three hours north along the Hai Van Pass, one of the most scenic drives anywhere in Vietnam.

Three to four days, at a relaxed pace, covers the town, the countryside and My Son. For a quieter stay, look within walking or cycling distance of the old town, or along the river in Cam Thanh.