Budget Travel in Ho Chi Minh City

Ho Chi Minh City Travel Notes: Wandering Through History and Vibrant Life The morning in Ho Chi Minh City is awakened by the roar of motorcycles. This city, once called "Saigon," is like an Eastern maiden draped in a French-style gown, stretching her figure in the morning mist along the Mekong River. On her streets, thousands of motorcycles converge into flowing rivers, where pedestrians must hold their breath and focus, learning the local way of "yielding to strength" as they navigate through the steel flood. It's precisely this slightly adventurous daily experience that became my first vivid memory of this city. French Legacy and Religious Encounters Ho Chi Minh City's architecture is history frozen in time. The Sacred Heart of Jesus Church (Pink Church) stands at a street corner in soft pink, like a candy house from a fairy tale, creating a wonderful contrast with its Gothic spires. Built during the colonial period, the church's interior features high-vaulted ceilings and stained glass windows that refract colorful light, captivating visitors. Not far away, the Central Post Office is another French classic: inside the yellow and white arched hall, vintage telephone booths and hand-drawn maps tell communication stories from the 19th century, while today's postcards still fly from here to all corners of the world. Facing it, the Red Church (Notre-Dame Cathedral) has been closed for renovation for years, but its brick-red color and bell tower spires remain Saigon's most iconic silhouette. The Weight of History and the City's Breath In the courtyard of Reunification Palace, sunlight filters through palm leaves onto stone slabs once crushed by tanks. This building, which witnessed the end of the Vietnam War, has underground communication rooms and emergency passages, while the helicopter landing pad on the roof reflects the blue sky of peaceful times. The guide's casual remark, "This was once the South Vietnamese Presidential Palace," unveils the heart-stopping events from half a century ago. The half-day tour of the Cu Chi Tunnels is even more shocking—bending down to crawl into the narrow tunnels, the damp earthy scent of history envelops you, and these passages dug for survival have now become windows for later generations to touch the scars of war. Vietnamese Flavors Amid the Bustle When night falls, the neon lights and hustle of Pham Ngu Lao Street truly ignite Saigon's soul. Roadside stalls grill sugarcane shrimp over charcoal, with the aroma of char and fish sauce permeating the air; sipping chilled coconut water, you watch rickshaw drivers and backpackers brush shoulders at street corners. On the terrace of a coffee apartment around the corner, the bitter richness of drip coffee intertwines with the sweetness of condensed milk, while the warm yellow light from the bookstore below and the crisp sound of baguette sandwiches blend with Vietnamese whispers to create an urban symphony. Epilogue: The Dual Poetry of the Paris of the East On my last evening, I ascended the observation deck of the Financial Tower. The sunset gilded the Saigon River, with distant skyscrapers standing alongside colonial buildings like an unfinished poem. This city, known as the "Paris of the East," never stops growing through the cracks of history—French elegance and tropical bustle, war scars and everyday life coexist here in wonderful symbiosis. And travelers like me merely pick up a memory fragment scented with coffee and motorcycle roars from her folds.