Discover Ho Chi Minh City: Familiar yet strange: Eat Michelin-starred pho, enjoy antique markets, and listen to yourself.

Instead of traveling far during the holidays, the mother and daughter opted for a local getaway in Ho Chi Minh City. From a Michelin-starred pho restaurant and a lively antique market to a lamp-making workshop, a Chinese community center, and a cinema in a cafe – each stop offered a unique experience and feeling.

A charming antique market - Photo: TBC

The big holiday is in full swing everywhere, but I'm sick and can't travel far or go back to my hometown. I've asked my daughter to come up with a fun itinerary right here in Ho Chi Minh City that she'll enjoy, and then I'll try my best to join her.

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At first, she was surprised, thinking, "How can we have fun in Ho Chi Minh City when we're so used to it?" But then she understood when I explained that my health didn't allow me to travel far, and secondly, we've lived in this city for so long but don't really know much about it.

The city has become so familiar that I've forgotten to learn about it, about how to make a living and study within it, yet I've become indifferent to it, like a long-standing, boring relationship.

So my child used the phone to search and create a completely private program all by themselves.

Eating Michelin-starred pho: 'You'll find it delicious after you swallow it'

My daughter insisted that I leave the house on time for the holidays. Our first discovery was a pho restaurant right in our old neighborhood. It was a small place, about ² square meters, yet it was on the Michelin nomination list. While waiting for the pho to cook, my daughter and I were both nervous, worried that it wouldn't be as good as we expected.

I told my child I'd heard about the owner of this pho restaurant. She loves cooking so much that she's always coming up with new dishes and working tirelessly day and night. The restaurant has a particularly famous pho dish for teenagers, with cheese glazed over french fries and unusual beef.

The pho looked quite ordinary when it was served. My child ate the "premium" pho, and I ate the regular pho. But when you actually tasted it, you'd breathe a sigh of relief because it's the kind of food that "you only appreciate after you've swallowed it," like the kind of love that develops after marriage—deep and gentle.

While we were eating, some Western guests arrived. My daughter, enjoying her meal, told me a few jokes. "Mom, you know, when we speak Vietnamese and foreigners don't understand what we're saying, it's really fun. I can't explain why, but I really enjoy it." I looked at her sparkling eyes as she told the story and found this heartwarming moment between mother and daughter quite delightful.

Weekend antique market: shop for items while listening to old love songs.

My daughter took me to the next stop, an antique market also located in the old district where our house and pho restaurant are situated. The house itself had a small trellis of flowers, but stepping inside revealed a wonderfully cheerful and beautiful world .

The stalls selling all kinds of old, slightly old, and seemingly old souvenirs were packed together in a delightful way. I tried on some huge rings and fancy earrings, while my daughter preferred admiring the miniature weapons like bullets, swords, and knives—a rather "violent" hobby for her gentle nature.

In the middle of this antique market is a stage with an orchestra and singers performing old love songs that perfectly suit my taste. Anyone can choose a seat somewhere to watch others choose beautiful items or to sway along to the romantic music. "Mom, you could come here on the weekend just to sit and have fun; this market is only open on weekends," my daughter suggested.

Fun at the antique market - Photo: LAM

Lamp-making workshop: the joy comes from companionship.

After lunch, it was time for my child to go straight to the "workshop." It was a high-rise cafe with a "hands-on game" service, and my child chose to design a beautiful light box.

We bought a glass box and were given some small toys, then we glued, sandblasted, built bridges, houses, and arranged everything so that when the lights were turned on, we would have a dazzling model to our liking. The journey was truly a joy. The sparkling lights were only for a short time to admire, but the joy came from creating the finished product with my daughter, from her asking for my opinion and changing her mind – moments I don't easily get as my child grows older and wants to break free from her parents.

The finished lamp at the cafe - Photo: TBC

We also visited the Ha Chuong Assembly Hall, a cultural heritage site of the Chinese community in Ho Chi Minh City. The architecture of this assembly hall requires a moment of observation to appreciate the meticulous craftsmanship in every detail of the carvings on the walls and ceilings.

"The fairies are looking down at us, Mom," my child said after reading to me that this temple is dedicated to the Fishermen's Holy Mother, and the thousands of small statues high up there are the celestial beings.

Visiting Ha Chuong Assembly Hall - Photo: TBC

Cinema in a coffee shop: watching movies differently, experiencing life differently.

And as night fell, we ended our journey in a movie theater located in a… coffee shop. My daughter persuaded me: “Let’s not go to the big theater anymore, it’s too common. At this movie cafe, we can watch an old film, it’ll be different.”

We went into the cafe to buy drinks and were led up to a small, cozy screening room. There were only about 20 customers in the room, and the owner, as if by her own passion, gave a talk about cinema before the movie started.

On the way home, my child kept talking about the main character of the movie: "I like the main character, Mom. She sacrificed so much for love but wasn't chosen because her lover didn't understand that love."

I told my child that this is exactly the kind of life they will experience. There are people who love each other, but their behavior and way of thinking are so different that they can never be together. They will find love that is more compatible with them.

My daughter asked me, "Mom, after a day out, are you happy?" I think the happiness on her face was obvious, I didn't need an answer.

Those days of unexpected illness turned out to be a fortunate time when I could find joy with my child in a quietude, contrasting sharply with the cheers of the crowd and my friends. I got to live in the city, with its underlying glitz and glamour, and the rhythm of urban life, it turned out, also lay in the way people sought each other out, offering each other a quiet seat.

I chose a seat to watch my child, wishing I would always be healthy enough to see her grow up, to see her adapt to her own life. I also sat and reflected on myself, the joys and sorrows, the mistakes I had made, the times of danger and happiness, who stood by me and who left, what I cherished and what I should let go of…

I remember the lyrics of a song I used to love, sung by Bao Yen: "Whose Saigon is it that you're only asking now? Saigon, the city of depth / Beautiful whether viewed from afar or up close / Even more beautiful when you look at it for a long time."

TRUONG BAO CHAU

Source: https://tuoitre.vn/kham-pha-tp-hcm-quen-ma-la-an-pho-michelin-vui-cho-do-co-lang-nghe-minh-20250902220410866.htm