The Vietnamese morning, and why the parks fill before six
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Vietnam does its living early. By half past five the parks are full, by six the markets are trading, and by ten the breakfast stalls have sold out and shut. A visitor who sleeps until nine misses all of it without ever noticing.
The early start is not a quaint local habit. It is the sensible response to a climate where the middle of the day is unusable for most of the year.
What happens between five and eight?
Everything sociable, and nobody staged any of it for visitors.
| Hour | What is happening | Where to see it |
|---|---|---|
| 05:00-06:00 | Group exercise, tai chi, running | Any lakeside or park |
| 05:30-07:00 | Badminton and da cau on marked courts | Park courts, quiet streets |
| 06:00-08:00 | Markets at full trade | Every neighbourhood market |
| 06:00-09:00 | Breakfast: pho, banh mi, xoi, bun | Stalls and pavement kitchens |
| 07:00-08:00 | The whole thing thins out for work and school | — |
Da cau is the one visitors stop for: a weighted shuttlecock kept in the air with the feet. Two or four people play it, at a standard that takes a while to appreciate. It is also the easiest thing in the country to get invited into.
Where is the morning at its best?
The morning is best around water. Hoan Kiem lake in Hanoi is the set piece. The full circuit is busy from five, with exercise groups every fifty metres and a queue for the benches. Tao Dan park in Ho Chi Minh City is the southern version, older and shadier.
The coastal version is different and better. In Da Nang and Nha Trang the whole beach fills at six, mostly with people in their sixties and seventies. By nine it empties, as the sun gets serious. Nobody sunbathes.
Provincial towns do a smaller edition of the same thing on whatever open ground they have. Hoi An is the exception worth naming. The old town at six is nearly empty, and it photographs the way brochures pretend it looks at noon.
Why is breakfast over so early?
Because the cook made it for people who start work at seven. A pho pot goes on before dawn and runs out by mid-morning, and the stall does not make a second. The breakfast guide is blunt about it: the ten o'clock version of a dish is the leftovers of the six o'clock one.
Cooking one pot makes the good stalls a morning activity whether you wanted one or not. It also means the markets are worth visiting before eight, when the produce is being bought rather than picked over.
How should the rest of the day be shaped?
Front-loaded, then paused. Out early, sightseeing from seven or eight, back indoors for the worst of the heat, out again from four. The with older parents guide makes the same argument for a different reason, and the rainy day guide is the wet-season version of it.
The sites reward this more than the cities do. Ban Gioc, Ha Long, the Hue tombs, the Mekong floating markets and every cave at Phong Nha are quieter, cooler and better lit in the first two hours. Most coach traffic arrives between ten and two.
Is anything actually open?
More than at night. Coffee shops open at six and are full of people who have already exercised. Temples and pagodas are open and in use rather than on a tour circuit. The pagoda guide explains why that differs from an afternoon visit.
Early morning is also the hour with the best light, which the photography guide treats as the main argument for the alarm. What is not open: museums, most of which start at eight, and shops, which start later still. Plan the morning around outdoors and food, and put the indoor things in the hot part of the day.
Does it work in winter?
In the north it changes shape. Hanoi in January is cold and grey at six, and the park crowd thins to the committed. The mist over the lake is why photographers get up anyway.
The south runs the same year round, since the temperature barely moves. On the central coast the morning is the best part of every month, and in the wet season often the only dry part. That is the practical argument for the alarm, rather than a romantic one.
FAQ
What time do Vietnamese cities wake up?
Around five, and the parks are busiest between five thirty and seven. Markets are trading by six, breakfast stalls are at their best before eight, and the whole thing has thinned out by nine as people head to work.
What actually happens in the parks?
Group exercise to a speaker, badminton, da cau with a feathered shuttle kicked between players, tai chi, running, and a great deal of sitting on benches. It is the most sociable hour of the Vietnamese day and nobody minds an onlooker.
Where is the best morning to watch?
Hoan Kiem lake in Hanoi, which fills all the way round. Tao Dan park in Ho Chi Minh City is the southern equivalent, and every provincial town has a lakeside or a square doing a smaller version of the same thing.
Why does breakfast end so early?
Because it was cooked for the people who started work at seven. A pho pot that opened at six is finished by ten, and the stall closes rather than reheating — which is why a late breakfast in Vietnam is usually a worse one.
Is the Vietnamese early morning worth getting up for?
It is the single cheapest improvement you can make to a trip here. The light is better, the temperature is twenty degrees rather than thirty-five, the sites are empty, and the thing you are watching is the country rather than a performance of it.
Do the morning parks fill everywhere in Vietnam?
In every city and most towns. It is strongest where there is water — a lake, a river, a seafront — and on the coast it becomes swimming instead, with whole beaches full at six and empty by nine.
What time should you start sightseeing?
Between seven and eight, after the park hour and with breakfast eaten. That buys three cool hours before the heat and the coach parties arrive, which on the busy sites is the difference between a good visit and a queue.