Day 8 – Hoi An Museums, Heritage Houses & Lantern-Lit Nights

Finally, a proper night’s sleep! After a string of restless, sticky nights, we both woke up genuinely refreshed in Hoi An—blessed be blackout curtains and that rare, blissful combination of quiet and a comfy mattress. We clocked at least 8 hours for the first time on this trip. Andi, still limping from the Hang Mua debacle, was in slightly better spirits today, though his knee was still protesting. No marathon sightseeing for us, so we planned a “museum and old houses” day, all within the compact historic core of Hoi An.

Hoi An Museum: History in the Heat

Even though our first stop, the Hoi An Museum, was only about 2 km away, we didn’t want to risk Andi’s knee, so we called a Grab. There’s something oddly liberating about zipping past the morning heat and scooter chaos in an air-conditioned car, even if it’s just for five minutes.

The museum itself was… well, let’s call it an adventure. The building is currently undergoing renovations, so the AC was off—cue instant sauna. Still, we soldiered on, fanning ourselves with the complimentary brochures as we explored the exhibits. The ground floor is all about Hoi An’s turbulent history: relics from the First Indochina War and the Vietnam War (or the Second Indochina War, as they call it here). There were battered rifles, helmets, and rusty mortars. One display case held jagged chunks of shrapnel and the ominous tail fins of bombs dropped by US B-52s. It’s sobering to see these weapons up close, especially knowing they were used right in this region.

Upstairs, the mood lightens with a showcase of Hoi An’s more peaceful past. We lingered over delicate pottery, ancient coins, and fragments of old ceramics—remnants from when Hoi An was a vibrant trading post on the Silk Road. There are also some lovely old photos of the town when it was still half-swallowed by jungle. Despite the heat, it was a worthwhile detour, and we left with a deeper appreciation for how much the city has endured.

Tran Family Chapel: Living Heritage

Next, we hobbled (well, Andi hobbled—I shuffled supportively) to the Tran Family Chapel. This place is a hidden gem, tucked away in one of the quieter lanes of the Old Town. The chapel was built in the early 19th century by the Tran family, who were one of Hoi An’s most influential merchant clans. The architecture is classic Hoi An: a harmonious blend of Chinese, Japanese, and Vietnamese influences, with a peaceful courtyard shaded by old trees.

Inside, the guide (a Tran descendant!) explained how the family worships their ancestors here, and showed us the family altar, packed with old photos, incense, and offerings. The carved wooden beams and intricate mother-of-pearl inlays were stunning. What I loved most was how lived-in it felt—this isn’t just a museum, but a space where family rituals still happen. You can almost imagine generations of the Tran clan gathering here for Tet, lighting incense and sharing stories.

Tan Ky Old House: A Window Into the Past

A short shuffle down the street brought us to Tan Ky Old House, one of Hoi An’s most famous heritage homes. Built more than 200 years ago, it’s been passed down through seven generations of the same family. The house is a living time capsule, with original furniture, antique ceramics, and family heirlooms everywhere you look.

The architecture is fascinating—a fusion of Vietnamese, Japanese, and Chinese styles. You enter through a dark, polished wooden hall, where sunlight filters in through latticed windows. The guide pointed out the Japanese “turtle shell” ceiling and the Chinese calligraphy panels, each with its own story. One corner of the house still has marks showing how high the floodwaters have risen over the years (spoiler: it’s a lot). It’s humbling to think of all the history these walls have seen.

Coffee Break: CocoBox

By then, we were both ready for a break. Hoi An’s Old Town is practically made for café-hopping, and our favorite so far is CocoBox. It’s right in the heart of the action, but the vibe is cozy rather than chaotic. We grabbed a table by the window and cooled off with iced Ca Phe Sua Da Saigon (my new addiction) and Lizz had a “I’m glowing” juice which is a combination of strawberry watermelon cucumber pear and lime. The staff are super friendly, and the playlist is always on point. If you need to recharge—literally and figuratively—this is the place.

Lunch at Mr. Son

Lunch was at Mr. Son again, a little family-run spot near our hotel. We’re creatures of habit, especially when the food is good, and the prices are kind. Today’s highlights: was also fried fish with rice and a tangy green papaya salad. The owner always greets us like old friends, which makes the meal even sweeter.

Lanterns, Crowds, and Street Food

After a late afternoon siesta, we ventured out for our nightly ritual: wandering the lantern-lit streets and the riverside night market. Of course, we weren’t alone. May 1 is a public holiday across Vietnam (and, as it turns out, a lot of the world), so the Old Town was packed. Moving forward was less of a stroll and more of a shuffle-dodge-stop-repeat. But the atmosphere was electric—lanterns glowing everywhere, street performers playing folk music, and the air thick with the smell of grilled meat and incense.

We fought through the crowds and eventually made it to the food stalls. Andi went for a “special” banh mi, loaded with pork, pate, pickled veg, and a generous squirt of chili sauce. I was tempted by the infamous BBQ frog skewers but chickened out at the last second and went for grilled pork instead. Maybe tomorrow I’ll be braver… or maybe not.

Full, sticky, and a little overwhelmed, we limped back to the hotel—already plotting tomorrow’s slower, hopefully less crowded, adventures.

Hoi An, you never get boring—even if our feet wish you would.