Hoi An

As dusk falls, thousands of silk lanterns switch on and the whole old town glows — reflections shimmering on the river, lanterns strung across every lane, sellers floating paper candles on the water. Simply wandering the car-free streets at night is the great Hoi An experience, and impossibly romantic; go early evening, then again later when the day-trippers thin.

Hoi An's emblem — a small, elegant covered bridge built by the Japanese community in the 1590s, with a little temple set into its span and carved guardian animals at each end. Recently restored, it's the town's most photographed spot and features on the 20,000₫ note; cross it, then admire it from the riverbank at night when it's lit.

Step inside the centuries-old trading houses that made Hoi An — the beautiful Tan Ky and Phung Hung homes, still owned by descendants of the original merchants, their dark timber halls hung with lanterns and mother-of-pearl inscriptions, courtyards open to the sky and high-water marks from the floods on the walls. A vivid window into the port's golden age.

The Chinese trading communities each built a lavish assembly hall and temple, and the grandest — the Fujian (Phuc Kien) Hall — is a riot of dragons, incense coils and a pink gateway, dedicated to the goddess of the sea. Ornate, colourful and atmospheric with drifting incense; the finest of several scattered through the old town.

Hoi An has a cuisine found nowhere else — cao lau, thick noodles with pork and greens made only with water from a local well; delicate 'white rose' shrimp dumplings; crispy fried wontons; and banh mi some call the best in Vietnam. Cheap, superb and everywhere; graze the market stalls and hole-in-the-wall shops.

Hoi An is the tailoring capital of Vietnam — hundreds of shops will run you up a made-to-measure suit, dress or coat in a day or two for a fraction of Western prices. Choose your cloth, get measured, come back for a fitting; pick a reputable shop, allow time for adjustments, and you'll leave with a wardrobe. A genuine Hoi An rite of passage.

Hire a wooden sampan for a gentle paddle on the Thu Bon river at dusk, when the lantern-lit town glows on the water and you launch your own little candle-lantern to float downstream with a wish. Touristy, yes, and best negotiated on the spot, but genuinely lovely; the classic, unmissable Hoi An photograph.

The town's golden-sand beach a short ride east, lined with laid-back bars and seafood shacks and looking out to the Cham Islands — the perfect antidote to a morning of temples. Rent a sunbed, swim in the warm sea, and stay for a sundowner and grilled fish as the sky turns pink; livelier and prettier than neighbouring Cua Dai.

In the water-coconut groves of Cam Thanh, boatwomen paddle you through the palms in a round bamboo basket-boat, showing off crab-catching and dizzying spins to music — cheesy, touristy fun that kids and adults both love, set in a beautiful watery landscape. Combine it with a cycle through the surrounding rice paddies.

Hoi An's bustling riverside market is the town's belly — mounds of herbs, chillies and tropical fruit, fish flapping on the slabs, sizzling food stalls and fabric sellers, all in a cheerful, pungent crush. Come hungry for a market breakfast of cao lau or a bowl of noodles, and watch the town's daily life at full tilt.

Cycle out through the rice paddies to Tra Que, a village of organic herb gardens that has supplied the town's kitchens for centuries — you can join the farmers hoeing and watering beds of mint, basil and coriander, and learn how the greens end up in your cao lau. A gentle, green half-day and the loveliest way to see the countryside.

Hoi An is Vietnam's hands-on capital — join a cooking class that starts with a market tour and a basket-boat ride to the herb gardens, or make your own silk lantern to carry home. A fun, rewarding half-day that turns the town's food and crafts into something you can actually do; classes are everywhere and easily booked.

A vivid 17th-century Chinese temple opposite the market, dedicated to a revered general and guarded by fearsome papier-mâché horses — a jewel of gilt carving, dragon-wrapped columns and coiling incense, and one of the most beautiful and least crowded of the old town's temples. A serene, colourful few minutes of the town's spiritual life.

Across the bridge on An Hoi islet, the night market is a glowing tunnel of lantern stalls — hundreds of silk lanterns in every colour for sale, alongside street-food carts, souvenirs and the crowds spilling from the old town. Buy a lantern to take home, snack your way along, and soak up the town at its most festive.

A free, beautifully mounted gallery of the photographer Réhahn's portraits of Vietnam's 54 ethnic groups, each with a costume and a story gathered over years of travel — moving, gorgeous and utterly different from the temples. A cool, quiet, thought-provoking hour that gives a sense of the whole country's diversity from the middle of Hoi An.