When people think of Hoi An, they usually picture lantern-lit streets, yellow colonial buildings, and the famous Ancient Town. We came for all of that too, but some of our most memorable experiences happened outside the UNESCO-listed center, in the ordinary neighborhoods where people live their daily lives.

Arriving in Hoi An

Before leaving Hue, I considered booking one of the popular transfers to Hoi An that include sightseeing stops along the way. In the end, I decided against it.

Cramming several sites together with a group of tourists and being rushed through them just did not feel like our way of travelling. Instead, I booked a simple one-way transfer with G8 Sapa Open Tours. Out of all our transfers in Vietnam, this turned out to be the best.

We were picked up directly from our accommodation and driven to the bus station. The first surprise came when we boarded the bus. Everyone had to remove their shoes before entering.

With conditions like that, the three-hour journey passed very quickly.

By early afternoon we arrived in Hoi An and settled into our Airbnb apartment.

What made the place particularly interesting was its location. Our apartment was in Trang Keo, a newer residential neighborhood in Cam Ha Ward. At first I viewed it simply as a convenient place to stay for a month. Later I realized it gave us a glimpse of a very different Hoi An — one of local parks, neighborhood festivals, kumquat growers, and the everyday rhythm of life beyond the Ancient Town that many visitors never see.

A Taste of the Neighborhood

For our first meal, we followed the host’s recommendation and walked to a small local eatery nearby. The restaurant specialized in shellfish, particularly snails. Like many local eateries, it was very informal, with plastic tables and chairs set up outside and filled mostly with local residents.

Valery stayed with a safer choice and ordered squid. I was more adventurous and decided to try snails and chip-chip clams.

They were delicious, although the shells made up most of the meal. It felt like a lot of work for not very much food.

Later, we noticed snails being sold from street-food carts as well. They seemed to be a local favourite and quickly became one of the foods I associated with Hoi An.

A Surprise in the Park

That evening we went for a walk around the neighborhood.

Not far from our apartment was Ho Sinh Thai Tan An Park, built around two ponds connected by walking paths. When we walked there that evening, the park was full of activity.

A large stage had been set up beside one of the ponds. White folding chairs filled the area in front of it, while vendor stalls lined the steps leading up to the street above.

But what caught my attention most was something entirely different.

At the top of the stairs stood dozens of kumquat trees growing in large pots. Their branches were heavy with bright orange fruit. Together they formed a small grove, filling the air with the scent of citrus and the rustling of leaves.

Drawn by the lights and activity, we wandered through the event, browsing the stalls which offered all sorts of local products.

We waited for performance to begin expecting music and dancing.
Instead, a group of people from the audience was called onto the stage. Another group emerged from backstage. Everything was conducted in Vietnamese, but it quickly became clear that this was some kind of formal awards ceremony.

Red pennants trimmed in gold were presented. Hands were shaken. Speeches were made.

It all felt very official.

Only after the ceremony ended did the singing and dancing begin.

We watched for a while before heading home.

A Festival of Kumquat Trees

Only later did we learn that we had stumbled upon the closing events of the Cam Ha Ornamental Kumquat Festival, a celebration that marked the beginning of Tet activities and recognized the local kumquat-growing industry.

As it turned out, the neighborhood where we were staying was one of the major producers of ornamental kumquat trees not only for Hoi An but for much of Central Vietnam. Once we knew that, we started noticing them everywhere.

Trucks loaded with kumquat trees drove through the streets. Small trees stood outside homes and businesses. Larger specimens filled nurseries and growing fields throughout the area.

These trees, covered with bright orange fruit, are one of the traditional decorations for Tet, Vietnam’s Lunar New Year celebration. We already knew that Tet was the most important holiday in Vietnam, but we had no idea that kumquat trees played such an important role in the celebrations.

In many ways, they reminded me of Christmas trees back home. Both are seasonal decorations that appear everywhere in the weeks leading up to the most important holiday of the year.

The fruit-laden trees seemed particularly fitting for Tet, which celebrates the arrival of spring. Their bright orange fruit symbolizes abundance, prosperity, and a good harvest in the coming year.

Gone Overnight

The next day we returned to the park for another walk.

At first, I thought we had gone to the wrong place. The stage was gone, the chairs were gone, and the vendor stalls had all disappeared.

Most surprising of all, every single kumquat tree was gone.

The grove that had filled the top of the stairs with colour and fragrance the previous evening had vanished without a trace. In its place stood a bare paved circle, a trellis, and empty concrete steps.

The transformation was so complete that I hardly recognized the park.

Over the following days, we continued exploring the neighborhood and eventually discovered entire plots filled with kumquat trees growing in pots. Rows and rows of them stretched across the fields.

One question kept bothering me: why did nobody pick the fruit? Walking past hundreds of bright orange kumquats every day, I found them incredibly tempting.

Eventually, we learned the answer. The trees are grown as ornamental plants rather than food crops. To achieve such dense foliage and prolific fruiting, growers use treatments that make the fruit unsuitable for eating.

It was useful information, because I had been sorely tempted more than once.

The Party Across the Street

The following day after spending the morning exploring, we returned home looking forward to a quiet afternoon.

As we walked down the final street toward our apartment, I commented on the loud music in the distance. With each step, the music became louder. Then louder still. By the time we reached our gate, the sound was deafening.

The source turned out to be a house party directly across the street from our apartment. Large speakers had been set up outdoors and someone inside was enthusiastically singing karaoke into a microphone.

The volume was astonishing.

Inside our apartment the walls were vibrating.

Hoping the problem would resolve itself, we closed the doors and windows. It made little difference.

Unable to stay, we left for lunch.

On the way out, desperation got the better of me. Armed with Google Translate, I walked across the street and politely explained that it was impossible to stay inside the house because of the volume.

To my surprise, they agreed. When we returned later, the karaoke was still going strong, but the volume had been noticeably reduced.

It was our first close encounter with one of Vietnam’s most famous cultural phenomena.

It would not be our last.

Karaoke Everywhere

What made it particularly surprising was that our neighborhood already had several dedicated karaoke venues. Some were enormous, elaborate buildings with grand names like Karaoke Kingdom and Karaoke Avatar. Yet whenever we passed them, they were quiet and almost deserted. The real karaoke culture seemed to be happening somewhere else entirely.

One day, while relaxing in our apartment, we suddenly heard someone singing at remarkable volume. At first I assumed another party had started nearby. Curious to find the source, I stepped outside to investigate.

The singer turned out to be in a house just down the street from ours.

Through the open doorway I could see a man sitting alone at a table in his living room. Karaoke equipment was set up in front of him, a microphone was in his hand, and he was singing at full volume with his back to the street. There was no audience and no gathering of friends — just one man thoroughly enjoying his karaoke session while the rest of the neighborhood became involuntary listeners.

It was one of those moments that made me realize karaoke in Vietnam is not simply an occasional social activity. For many people it seems to be a hobby in its own right.

Thankfully, none of the neighborhood gatherings ever reached the volume of that first party across from our apartment, but they were still impossible to ignore.

It was one of those cultural differences that was fascinating to observe, even if it occasionally tested our patience. Still, if there is one aspect of Vietnam I will not miss after leaving, it is probably home karaoke.

Discovering Another Side of Hoi An

Before arriving in Hoi An, we imagined spending most of our time exploring the Ancient Town.

Instead, some of our strongest early memories came from the ordinary streets around our apartment.

A neighborhood festival celebrating kumquat trees.

Fields filled with orange fruit destined for Tet celebrations.

An unexpected lesson in Vietnamese karaoke culture.

None of these experiences appeared in guidebooks, yet they helped us understand Hoi An in a way that lanterns and historic buildings alone never could.