Top 10 Essays About Hue's Unique Charm

In the countryside of Hue, during April, you can enjoy the fresh breeze of the rice fields and inhale the sweet scent of young rice. But what truly captivates is the slightly bitter taste of the first figs of the season.

The central region of Vietnam is known for its unpredictable weather, and as the saying goes, "Scorching heat and heavy rain". However, the fig tree thrives in the harsh environment of Hue's land. The soil here, despite its challenges, nurtures this hardy tree, which produces a natural gift for the locals.

In the rural areas of Hue, it's common to find fig trees in almost every household. But the village of Phuoc Tich, known for its historical significance, grows the most figs. Nestled along the peaceful O Lau River, the village's fertile soil nurtures fig trees, and these trees have become an integral part of the locals' daily lives.

As April’s heat begins to intensify, the sun gets stronger, and on the cobbled streets of Phuoc Tich, villagers carry water back to their gardens. The sunset behind the bamboo groves marks the time when women head to the riverbank, their baskets heavy with water, each with a fig leaf placed on top to keep the water from spilling. The rhythm of their steps and the gentle chatter create a serene atmosphere. Despite the heat, the sight of these women carrying water along the river feels refreshing, as if the cooling breeze of the O Lau River follows them.

In April, the lingering chill of the past year is gone, and the warm sun begins to bathe the Phuoc Tich gardens. The fig trees start to bear fruit. The figs of Phuoc Tich are plump and round, their red flesh resembling soft, pink fibers. The tree itself is small but sturdy, with large leaves that provide shade, creating a cool refuge from the scorching midday sun. The figs dangle from the branches in clusters, their vibrant colors adding beauty to the garden.

When visiting Phuoc Tich during this season, you cannot miss the delicious dishes made from figs. Hue is famous for its diverse culinary traditions, and figs are a key ingredient in many local dishes. Figs, freshly picked from the garden, are briefly boiled to remove the bitterness, then sliced thinly and mixed with pig ears and herbs. This creates a refreshing salad that perfectly balances flavors and is a favorite in Phuoc Tich. During Buddhist festivals, a fig and peanut salad is a must-have on the vegetarian table—simple yet deeply rooted in Hue’s culinary culture.

On hot summer days, a quick and cooling treat is fresh figs dipped in shrimp paste. Just a plate of raw figs and a bowl of shrimp paste is enough to satisfy. The strong salty shrimp paste and spicy chilies mask the bitterness of the figs. However, to the locals of Hue, the bitterness is hardly noticeable. Hue women, known for their creativity in cooking, not only make fig salads or fig with shrimp paste but also cook figs in savory dishes like stewed figs with pork or simmered figs with meat.

Hue's resourceful and talented women have found even more ways to use figs. Figs picked when they are still tender are sliced, dried, and roasted to make fig tea. The result is a fragrant, lightly bitter tea that leaves a sweet aftertaste. Sipping this tea in the early morning, as the morning mist lingers, alongside a plate of sesame candy, is a quintessential Hue experience that cannot be replicated anywhere else.

As children, we would often sneak to the temple to pick figs. The temple had so many fig trees that they were used for offerings. We would quietly pick the figs, savoring them with a sprinkle of chili salt, carefully wrapped in banana leaves. Even the latex from the figs, though bitter and slightly unpleasant, was consumed eagerly as we moved from one fruit to the next, praising its unique flavor.

For generations, the fig tree has been a part of the daily life in Hue's countryside, becoming an essential element of local cuisine. Whether it’s a ritual offering or a feast, a dish of fig salad is never missing from the table, as it has become an irreplaceable part of Hue’s cultural heritage.

On a visit to Phuoc Tich in early March, I was invited by a local woman to join her for a simple meal of rustic dishes made with local ingredients. She kindly said, 'You must try the fig salad when you visit Phuoc Tich. It’s a must!' One bite of the fig salad, and I could feel the deep love for the land and its people.

Nguyễn Đức Anh

I arrived at the temple gates just as the bell rang. I paused, standing still, as the sound of the bell echoed, spreading across the space, and gradually fading within me.

For some reason, every time I hear the bell toll, my heart stirs with an unfamiliar longing!

I didn’t leave Hue, but in a way, I did. I once promised to return, yet work and various matters kept pulling me further away. I’ve been swept along by life’s current, and with each passing day, Hue grows more distant.

I miss Hue—the land of warm sun, heavy rains, and a quiet, melancholic atmosphere that always evokes a sense of longing. I miss the ancient, moss-covered houses, the narrow winding streets where flowers fade under the sun, the sound of distant songs, and the ringing of temple bells late at night.

There are nights when I hear the bell from afar, and my heart aches with the feeling of missing something far away, something vast.

I remember walking to Bao Quoc Temple, or Tu Dam Temple years ago.

The peaceful Bao Quoc Temple under the May sun, fragrant with flowers, was where I visited my teacher who studied there, and also to borrow old books soaked in incense for my exam preparations. There were times when I became so immersed in those ancient pages that I was startled by the bell tolling, realizing that it was already late afternoon. I hurriedly bid my teacher farewell and the sound of the bell seemed to follow me forever.

Now, I remember the bell at the temple in my village. Each day, its sound rings out, spreading peace and tranquility through the village, adding a sense of calm to the already quiet atmosphere. I recall an old song:

“The village temple stands in the lonely hamlet,
At dawn and dusk, the bell tolls.”

I remember, at three or four in the morning, when the sky is still dark, the bell tolls to break the silence of the long night. It awakens people from their slumber, signaling the start of a new day. It urges the departed souls to return to the afterlife before the morning light. As the bell rings, the monks rise to light incense, the novices prepare water, and clean the temple. Perhaps they’ve already memorized the chant:

“When the bell tolls, those still asleep must rise,
To avoid anger from the protective spirits,
For it reduces virtue and wisdom,
And in the next life, one may fall into the form of a snake.”

(Rough translation: Those who remain asleep when the bell tolls will incur the wrath of the protective spirits, diminishing their virtue and wisdom, and may be reincarnated as a reptile in their next life.)

After the bell tolls, nearly everyone wakes up. It serves as a timekeeper for the day’s beginning. Farmers head to the market or the fields, students prepare for their lessons. The bell marks the start of a new day, and as the sound fades, the morning mist begins to lift, signaling the arrival of dawn. I, too, awaken with the bell’s toll, ready to study for the day.

But perhaps what I miss most is the evening bell. As the sun sets and the rays fade behind the bamboo groves, the evening bell rings from afar, blending with the sound of kites and the buzzing of insects, creating a peaceful, tranquil melody. Sometimes, I can’t distinguish whether it’s the bell tolling or just the evening sound blending into one. Each toll seems to travel slowly through the thin mist, filling the air before settling in the hearts of those who listen. The day’s labor and struggles are over. The bell seems to chase away the suffering of the mundane world, leaving only a calm and quiet night behind.

On full moon nights, under the quiet moonlight, the bell’s distant toll is like a soft melody, merging with the moonlight to create a gentle and serene atmosphere.

The sound of the bell stirs the soul and guides people back to the right path. I remember an old story I once heard: “When the bell tolls, even the butcher, the thief, or the wrongdoer is awakened, returning to their senses.” The sound of the bell enters the consciousness, waking those lost from their path, pulling them away from ignorance and guiding them back to enlightenment. The bell reminds us not to stray into the six realms of reincarnation.

The bell’s sound may dissolve into the air, but when we hear it toll slowly and steadily, our hearts are lightened, our minds clear, and our spirits calmed. The bell directs us toward a peaceful, virtuous life, helping us live with compassion and mindfulness.

After being away for so long, hearing the faint toll of the bell in the evening brings back the verse from the poet Huyen Khong, Thich Man Giac:

“The bell tolls from afar, a longing so deep,
Who doesn’t miss the shared temple when they leave?
The temple shelters the soul of the people,
It’s the eternal life of our ancestors.”

(Remembering the Temple)

Lê Phượng

The imperial city, with its rich and vibrant artistic heritage, gives Hue a unique charm that blends the old and the ever-refreshing spirit felt by every traveler who has ever set foot here. Especially, the local culinary arts, carefully crafted by the skillful and diligent hands of Hue's women, will surely win anyone over with their sweet invitation: 'Come to Hue for a meal!' (People in Hue don't say 'snack' but 'eat something').

Are you ready? Let's now take a stroll down the streets to discover the distinctive dishes Hue has to offer:

First, let's enjoy the simple yet flavorful dishes praised by poet Ưng Bình in his verses: 'Bánh khoái at Đông Ba, bún bò at Gia Hội, cơm Hến by the Cồn...'. The bowls of bún bò, with its clear broth rich in meaty flavors and the fragrance of lemongrass, are served with crab cakes and other delights floating on top of the small, uniquely shaped pot. A plate of fresh herbs completes the dish, leaving you with unforgettable memories. Or if you prefer cơm hến, you’ll find that a bowl of rice topped with fresh herbs, peanuts, and over a dozen different spices offers a distinct flavor. It’s no wonder that poet Võ Quê once wrote the famous lines: 'The fiery heat of chili, searching in Hue's flavor...'.

After breakfast, let’s head over to Đông Ba Market. If you’ve shopped and browsed to your heart’s content, your legs might be getting tired—so why not stop for a sweet, refreshing bowl of chè? You'll be amazed by the variety of offerings here, but your stomach will be limited. Let me list some specialties: lotus seeds, mung beans, red beans, and the unique chè bột lọc filled with roasted pork. This dish, unlike any other, has a distinctive taste that you can only experience in Hue, leaving a lasting impression. Don't forget to try the refreshing jelly and enjoy the sweet smile of the vendor. It’s no surprise that there’s a famous folk verse: 'Thạch xoa, one price, four words: If you leave your wife, marry the jelly seller!' Hue people are deeply sentimental. The love and bonds formed here often begin with the delicate, soft hands of a woman making bánh bèo or bánh ướt with shrimp paste.'

By now, you're probably feeling a little less tired, so let's head over to Ăm Phủ for lunch or follow the old poetic lines to Kim Long: 'Kim Long has beautiful girls, I love them, I miss them, I will go.' You’ll easily recognize the charm of Hue in the graceful smiles and delicate áo dài of its women, and I’m sure you'll be impressed by the flavors of bánh ướt thịt nướng. I especially love Huyền Anh’s grilled pork served with a fragrant dipping sauce—an unforgettable taste with the breeze from the Perfume River.

Speaking of a light snack, I could go on listing some of the best local foods, but here are some key dishes to try: bánh bèo, nậm lọc at Cung An Định, bún mắm nêm on Bà Triệu Street, bánh canh on Hàn Thuyên Street, and fried noodles at every street corner. Or, you could venture to Trường An for snails or head to Vĩ Dạ for a warm bowl of bánh canh Nam Phổ, where you can feel the deep emotions captured in Hàn Mặc Tử’s poetic line: 'Why don't you come to Vỹ village, see the sunlight on the betel trees, as the sun rises?'. You'll be swept away by the love and nostalgia in a cup of coffee during the soft afternoon light, sharing a moment with someone special, letting your soul drift along the Perfume River, singing and playing music. As the night falls, the warm feelings deepen, and walking through the quiet streets, you’ll crave a little comfort from a simple bánh mì at Trường Tiền Bridge—humble, yet it perfectly captures Hue's street food culture.

Today, Hue remains a place of constant evolution. Alongside traditional dishes, the food scene now embraces flavors from across the country and even abroad, contributing to the city's dynamic and open culture. Dishes like phở, bánh cuốn, nem rán from Hanoi, hủ tiếu from Phnom Penh, or cơm tấm from Saigon, have found their place among Hue's culinary offerings. This shows Hue’s openness and adaptability, refusing to cling to the past while embracing new influences. Hue, to friends around the world, is still as beautiful and poetic as ever, and its culinary arts remain a hallmark of the city, from the royal banquets to the humble bowls of cơm hến.

Ending our journey through Hue’s temples, palaces, and pagodas, there are still many more dishes I haven’t mentioned, and perhaps some that my stomach simply cannot handle after all this talk about food. So, as the Huê tình song says: 'Tomorrow, when you leave, will you have any regrets?'”

TRANG THÙY

The alleys of Hue! They echo with a mysterious charm, like a magical land that draws visitors from afar. Are you here to explore? It’s hard to imagine that this narrow space is where one would find something to discover.

Yellow walls, black walls, all overgrown with moss. As you approach, the walls seem to beckon like an old friend inviting you closer. I can’t help but picture the image of seagulls soaring across the ocean, calling each other toward some far-off horizon.

Hue, in my mind, feels like the southern land of the birds’ dreams. The old things here shimmer with beauty, simply because I love them. That’s enough. Even as a stranger with a thick Northern accent, even as a wanderer seeking to savor selfish moments, the people of Hue welcome me. I laugh, I speak, and in return, I hear the echo of their voices.

The alley is small enough that from the end, you can see everything I do. Curious eyes gaze up at me, watching with a blend of intrigue and innocence. The young girl nearby, bored, runs off to join her friends. In such a small space, a few families are enough to create a tight-knit community, joyful and full of life. There is nothing more to ask for.

The alley exudes a magical feeling. Life is simple, yet it offers a space to explore and experience. Every place has its own community, its own rhythm of life. Isn’t that enough to visit, to be here? I am merely a passerby, unable to fully absorb it all unless I immerse myself in it.

Hue’s alleyways. So simple. Small houses, small shops. But the bowls of beef noodle soup served here are just as delicious as those on the busy main streets. After eating, sitting on a plastic chair, listening to Trinh music in the heart of Hue—it’s a feeling unlike any other, unique to this moment. Trinh’s music is deep enough to measure the ticking of time. Written by a genius, his songs connect with the soul, accompanying weary steps.

The alley feels familiar, yet so strange. Small, yet it holds something far grander. I can’t fully grasp the depth of it. I can only write these words, symbols of affection and longing. Life is peaceful, and that peace is enough for the emotions of any person. Hue is famous for its tranquil beauty, a city in central Vietnam that leaves an unforgettable mark on the heart.

Suddenly, the clear sound disappears, replaced by a vague sense of fear. The sky darkens, the alley becomes quieter. The moss seems to display its black victory. First gray, then black, with pale yellow light fading as the years pass. But it’s just a fleeting moment. Hue in the rain. People retreat into their homes, not forgetting to call out an invitation to me, asking me to take shelter from the rain.

The people of Hue. They are kind and unafraid. Their homes may be small, but the years pass and they grow older. The past and present remain the same; love is something that may fade for a moment but lasts forever. The old radio hums a familiar tune. Yes, the people of Hue love Trinh’s music, his lyrics as mysterious as Hue itself. Ten years ago, I stood here. Ten years apart from Hue. And then, we meet again in the dreamscape of life.

The alley goes on endlessly, leaving behind a trail that will still be there when we open it years later. By then, we’ll have grown, and our feelings won’t be the same. When we grow older, we will have more to worry about. But when we return to Hue, we will feel a pang of nostalgia for our youth. Would we have done better if we could turn back time? Would we live as peacefully as the air here, or would we spin in the dazzling wheel of life in Saigon?

I don’t have the answers, because time cannot be reversed. All I know is that the elders in this narrow alley live each day as they wish. Their way of life is simple and peaceful, like a life separated from the outside world, unchanged by the passing of time. Steady, like the rhythm of the years.

In this alley, many come and go. Smiles of farewell. Smiles of greeting.

Collected

Hue – a land of romance, dreams, and poetry, a unique heritage region with an unparalleled beauty that is sweet and distinct. Before visiting Hue, I couldn’t imagine what a poetic ancient capital would be like in the modern world. Seeing the bustling, noisy, and lively cities of Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City, I worried about how this small, poetic city would survive in a fast-paced world, perhaps existing only in songs, poetry, and photography...

Then, I arrived in Hue. Hue welcomed me just like the images I had seen through photos and poetry... Peaceful, dreamlike, it was astonishingly calm, from the serene scenery to the gentle people. From the soft, shy smiles of the girls riding bicycles on the streets, their conical hats hiding their faces, to the carefree demeanor of the shop owner quickly preparing dishes for the waiting customers...

Hue is home to the gentle and poetic Perfume River, and the whispering Ngut Mountain that sings through the blue sky. Hue has the Imperial Citadel, which has witnessed countless shifts in power, rising and falling with time. Hue boasts royal tombs and temples that preserve the legacies of ancient kings. Hue has the sacred Tu Dam Pagoda, a witness to the country’s historical fluctuations. Hue has the ancient Thiên Mụ Pagoda, whose bell has echoed through centuries. The Phuoc Duong Tower, soaring high over the capital city, seems to capture the spirit of the nation.

Hue makes you slow down, speak in softer tones, look and reflect more... The Perfume River, gentle, forgiving, and serene, feels like an elegant lady untouched by the mundane. And the people of Hue are just as gentle and welcoming. Under the brilliant golden sunlight of early summer, I gazed at the river from the stone steps of Thiên Mụ Pagoda. The river was mesmerizing, its jade-like green water, holding the reflection of life along its banks.

Hue is famous for its melancholic beauty, which becomes even more poignant as you watch the sunset over Tam Giang Lagoon, about 15 km from Hue. The feeling of being small, yet joyful, as you cruise the vast waters, occasionally feeling a cool breeze, is unforgettable. As the sun sets, the lagoon is covered in a deep purple hue. It is this rare purple sunset that inspires poems, songs, art, and photography, leaving travelers with a profound sense of longing.

The Imperial City of Hue today still retains its poetic beauty, and its tourism potential is on par with any famous destination. Nature has blessed Thua Thien Hue with a unique landscape: a province shaped like a vast park, rich in diversity. Here, mountains meet plains, rivers meet lakes, and the sea. From the Tam Giang Lagoon to the Perfume River, the Ngut Mountain to the Bach Ma National Park, everything here speaks of harmony and convergence. Therefore, Hue’s tourism strength is not only in its ancient royal allure but also in its status as a green city of Vietnam.

Within the ancient city, you still find green grass stretching along the banks of the Perfume River. The people of Hue live closely with nature, considering it an integral part of their lives. Hue has earned the nickname “The City of Gardens,” and rightly so. Everywhere you look, you see the calm green of trees, flowers, hills, and rivers, with the gardens created by its people forming the largest green spaces. Famous garden houses like those in Long Ho, Huong Long, Nguyet Bieu, Luong Quan, Vi Da, Bao Vinh, and more, are peaceful and charming, linking people with nature.

When you talk about Hue, you can’t ignore the An Cuu River. Branching off from the Perfume River, An Cuu flows independently, carrying with it centuries of history. I often hear the locals speak of it, and I feel transported back 200 years. When King Gia Long ascended the throne, he commissioned the construction of the Imperial City and the development of the surrounding areas. As a result, the An Cuu River was created. Legend has it that while digging, workers stumbled upon the lair of a giant water serpent, Thuong Luong. For centuries, this creature guarded the river’s depths. The opening of the An Cuu River exposed its lair, and on hot days, the serpent’s agitation would cause the river to turn murky. On cooler days, the river flowed calmly, its water clear again. This connection to history, these stories of life and people, flow with the river through the ages.

Though it may not be as bustling as Hanoi or Ho Chi Minh City, Hue is slowly establishing itself as a dynamic city with immense tourism potential. As society progresses, Hue remains magical and mysterious, though now a bit livelier than before. Modern buildings rise, and the streets are adorned with dazzling lights at night. Major streets like Hung Vuong, Le Loi, Hai Ba Trung, Nguyen Hue, and Ben Nghe have become hubs of activity for locals and visitors alike after dark. If you visit Hue now, you’ll notice the city has become much livelier than it was in the 1980s. In the evenings, crowds of elderly people, young adults, and children gather to relax, exercise, and enjoy the city’s vibrant nightlife. The golden lights illuminate the streets, blending with the glow of passing cars and creating a sense of urgency in the air. Not many pay attention to the whispered memories of the old citadel anymore.

Night in Hue is strangely peaceful. We rode cyclo carts through tree-lined streets. Near Trang Tien Bridge, couples sat by the river, enjoying coffee and chatting happily. Others enjoyed sweet desserts, laughing and chatting comfortably. A few couples admired the shimmering Perfume River, its mystical beauty evoking romance. All of this made for a vibrant, enchanting, and poetic scene. Night in Hue passes slowly, and I feel my heart at ease, free from worry...

When in Hue, you can’t help but feel moved by the music of Hue as it drifts over the Perfume River. The refined melody seems to embrace the ancient city, drawing you in, as if saying “don’t leave just yet.” How could I bear to part with Hue? I haven’t explored the Forbidden Purple City or seen the beautiful palaces in the Imperial City, I haven’t heard all the mysterious stories of its history, I haven’t visited all the royal tombs and temples, and I haven’t fully appreciated the craftsmanship of Hue’s people… Indeed, Hue is tranquil and deep, a place that enters your heart. As I bid Hue goodbye, I vow that I will return someday, for it is a peaceful, captivating, and dreamlike place.

Indeed, anyone who has visited Hue will carry its timeless beauty in their hearts, and the deep, poetic voices of its people. Hue is graceful and enchanting, not noisy or rushed like the other places I’ve been. Hue remains a mystery, alluring and captivating… Many poets have described Hue with delicate words and elegant verses. I’m neither a poet nor a writer, but I just want to express my feelings for Hue, a place that I hold deep affection for.

Having visited Hue many times, I no longer feel the same excitement I did at first. Each visit, I find myself growing fonder of Hue. This time, I returned during the fall season. Perhaps fall is the best time of the year, without the scorching summer heat, the dreary long rains of Hue, or the biting winter cold. The streets felt more lively and vibrant, marking the 69th anniversary of Vietnam’s National Day. I visited Hue not just for the opening of the photography festival between Hanoi, Hue, and Ho Chi Minh City, but also to join the local photographers for a day of creative shooting in Hue. It was my first time doing photography in Thua Thien Hue, and the experience was indescribable. I felt excited to meet the friendly, warm-hearted locals, and I realized that Hue, with its dreamy allure, had been in my heart for years.

We clicked the camera incessantly, not wanting to stop. The sun was high in the sky, but we kept shooting, capturing everything. Then, the head of the local photography group, Xuân Lê, told us to stop for lunch and prepare for more shooting at Vinh Thanh Beach in the afternoon. We visited many places, including the Con To Lagoon, Tam Giang, Bao La craft village, Tu Duc Tomb, and Vinh Thanh Beach. It was a day full of hard work, but everyone was happy and content. It was a meaningful and productive trip, and I’m grateful to the Thua Thien Hue Photography Association and the people of Hue for their warm hospitality.

Returning to Hanoi, I secretly hope to return to Hue again, to experience its beauty under the changing skies... Hue continues to enchant me, always a place of mystery and allure, like a half-read book that beckons you to explore. Although Hue may carry a touch of sadness, it remains friendly, welcoming, and ever so captivating. Farewell, my dear Hue.

It's been over three years since I left the ancient capital, but every autumn, I am reminded of the autumns of Hue. Back then, I was alone, dragging my suitcase to begin university, feeling lost as the first autumn breeze swept through the busy streets. I felt like one of those children asking passersby to buy them a piece of gum.

Fortunately, I soon adapted and began to fall in love with what was once unfamiliar. I started to enjoy standing on the third floor of building C during breaks, watching the poetic Hue girl drifting down the river towards Hến Island; I loved watching the purple Lagerstroemia trees lining Lê Lợi Street every autumn afternoon; my favorite sight, however, was watching the Tràng Tiền Bridge with its "twelve arches," while people hurried across it, adding to the vibrant scene.

I became fond of the unpredictable weather in Hue—the mornings would be sunny, by noon it would rain, and by evening, the streets would be flooded, as if that were the daily routine. Torrential rain would wash out the roads only for the sunshine to break through the windows of my dormitory on the Y-shaped building of the university.

I came to love the streets of Hue at night, where the southern side was busy and noisy, and as the night deepened, the laughter and chatter became louder. But I preferred the northern side, where by 9 pm, the lights would flicker off, and the streets would become peaceful in the cool autumn air. Hue is strange—it’s just one city, but the two banks of the Perfume River feel like two different worlds—one steeped in ancient history and the other bustling with modern life. And that’s why I love it—no, I am drawn to this place with its unpredictable and changing weather.

I miss Hue, I miss its autumn, I miss the time when I was young, with my long hair and tan skin, always riding an old bicycle I bought just before starting university. Back then, everything I did was full of passion—whether it was attending classes, sharing a dorm, or spending time with friends who supported and encouraged each other. I remember living in the first lecture hall, working on projects until midnight, eating a bowl of noodle soup for 10,000 VND, then at 3 am, riding to the wholesale market to buy flowers, cycling to Hương Long for volunteer teaching, nibbling on Trường Tiền bread while admiring Saigon (Morin) at night, going to Dã Viên Bridge to shout and wait for the train while sipping Bento bubble tea, stopping by Mai Thúc Loan to grab a plate of chicken feet with boiled beef and drinking Sting, cycling around the carousel at the 6-way intersection while singing in the rain, and even helping with flood relief during the stormy season before returning to our shared dorm to eat, sleep, and play together with a group of friends.

I long for those early autumn evenings when all my dorm mates would ride our bikes through the streets, chattering excitedly about everything under the sun. Then we’d inhale the unique flavors of Hue, flavors that I’ve never been able to find anywhere else, even in nearby Da Nang.

What’s even more special is that autumn in Hue also carries the sound of the river, which starts to change as it greets the autumn winds. As I grow older, the river becomes even more golden as water from upstream flows in, slowly turning a reddish hue, only to darken as though signaling an impending storm.

That’s the way it is—autumn in Hue comes and goes. Over the four seasons, I’ve grown accustomed to the unique taste of Hue. Now, as I’ve left the city, it’s been three autumns already, but whenever the first heavy rain of the season touches the earth, I’m instantly transported back to the day I first felt the autumn breeze in this foreign land. It makes me truly understand the words of the poet Chế Lan Viên: "When we are here, it is just a place to live - When we leave, the land has become our soul."

- Ái Nhi -

There is something about Hue that keeps me coming back, a special pull in my heart that drives me to take journeys just to satisfy my longing. The SE4 train brought me to Hue on a bright sunny afternoon. The Perfume River flowed lazily, and the clouds drifted slowly over the ancient city, tinted by time and history's ups and downs.

The heat of central Vietnam during mid-year does nothing to diminish the dreamy, timeless essence of Hue. Deep in the heart of a southern boy, Hue holds a unique place, or perhaps it is Hue that awakens deep emotions within me. On a leisurely afternoon walk along Le Loi Street, the most beautiful road in Hue beside the Perfume River, watching the yellow leaves fall gently, visiting the famous Quoc Hoc School, or strolling beneath the Trường Tiền Bridge, I find Hue to be a beauty unlike any modern city. Whether it's spring with the lilac flowers on the northern banks of the Perfume River, or summer with vibrant red flame trees on the banks of Trường Tiền, or at the foot of Thiên Mụ Hill... Hue is like a living painting.

During my time in Hue, I tried to make the most of every beautiful moment, visiting the monuments and craft villages that line the banks of the Perfume River. I remember waking up early, taking a deep breath of the fresh morning air, and cycling up to Thiên Mụ Pagoda just to listen to the bell toll in the stillness, climbing to Vọng Cảnh Hill to admire the Perfume River winding below, taking an afternoon trip to the royal tombs and temples that preserved the remnants of the nation's history, or watching the sunset on the Perfume River. I would wander along Đập Đá Bridge, admiring the red sun setting in the west, watching fishing boats drift back to dock in the misty Cồn Hến Riverbank...

I often use the "literary map" when traveling across the country. Literature about Hue, about the Perfume River, is countless. As Hoàng Phủ Ngọc Tường once said, Hue never repeats itself in poetry, music, painting, or literature. My love for Hue began with lessons in my childhood, with the poems, stories, and songs dedicated to Hue. With a heart full of passion for literature, every time I visit Hue, I wander in search of the places, the images mentioned in literature. I seek the sections of the Perfume River that Hoàng Phủ Ngọc Tường described in his famous essay "Who Named the River?", like the stretch flowing between two majestic hills, or through Kim Long, or passing through the ancient town and finally meandering through Bao Vinh, which resembles a small Hội An on the outskirts of Hue. In real life or in literature, the river is magnificent just the same. I searched for Thôn Vỹ Dạ, finally finding it with the sunlight filtering through the palm trees, where the garden remains traditional despite the modern world around it. This garden was immortalized by Hàn Mặc Tử’s poem "Here in Vỹ Dạ" that still grips the heart. I also recall the hot afternoon I spent searching for the paradise tree that had appeared in the film "Blue Eyes". After the flood, the tree had come back to life, its vibrant green leaves offering a peaceful rest stop for farmers. In the wide, desolate fields, the "blue eyes" tree became a symbol of longing, something for a southern traveler to search for...

Everyone has their own way of savoring the beauty of Hue or any other city. This is how I have come to cherish Hue, a city that is simple, ancient, and filled with dreamy beauty. In this land of "Fragrant Rivers", in a place once ruled by kings, there are many simple, humble things. The simplicity can be found in the local foods like bánh nậm, bánh lọc, cơm hến, or mì hến, rich in regional flavors yet so affordable; in the afternoon street vendors selling chè, in the smile of the lady selling bún bò Huế in front of Đông Ba Market when the lights of the Perfume River shine bright... These moments, these small details, will always stay with me, becoming the source of my nostalgia. Hue has truly come back to life after the pandemic, and the Perfume River still flows green, mirroring the spirit of Hue after the storms and floods. The people of Hue continue to uphold traditions, keeping Hue with its own unique charm, one that is purely Hue!

Someone once told me: when you haven't been to Hue, you don’t want to go, but once you do, you’ll always want to return. It’s true, because the quiet, somber beauty of the ancient capital captures the heart, and one day, the memories and the longing for Hue will awaken again in the soul. At that moment, the distance of central Vietnam no longer matters, as the depth of longing will outweigh it...

People often say that Hue is boring, dull, with nothing to see. But for those who have already fallen for the melancholic, dreamy charm of Hue, it's impossible not to love it!

When I tell people that Hue is one of my favorite places in Vietnam, some are surprised and even disagree: “Hue has nothing to offer, it’s a quiet city, nothing but the old citadel and tombs, there’s nothing exciting here!”

That's because they know Hue only through books and travel guides that highlight the most popular tourist spots. Their idea of traveling is very different from mine – they prefer bustling places, resorts, indulging in good food, taking photos for social media, and enjoying loud, fun activities during their trips.

But for those of us who are moved by nostalgia, once we fall under the spell of Hue’s calm, melancholic beauty, we realize that we’ve fallen in love with Hue without even realizing it...

I remember Hue’s Le Loi Street. The media often call it the “museum street” because of its cultural and artistic spaces, or the “festival street” for the lively celebrations that happen during the Hue Festival season. But I would agree with the journalists who say that Le Loi is the most beautiful street in Hue, the kind of place where, if you visit Hue, you should take time to walk slowly and enjoy the green surroundings, the old trees, and the view of the historic Truong Tien Bridge over the dreamy Perfume River. It’s also a great place for a photo with the National High School – the third oldest secondary school in Vietnam, founded in 1896...

I remember Hue’s slow, gentle pace, especially when a sudden rain shower falls in the ancient city. Hue’s rain is unlike any other – it pours heavily and persistently, everything becomes wet and cold. Yet, there’s a peaceful comfort to it, something that touches the soul and makes you feel at ease.

"Forever in my heart, Hue!

The rain falls on Mount Ngu, painting the sky white"

I stand waiting for the rain to end

And you sit and wait for the winds to calm!"

("Hue! A Rainy Day" by Tu Duc Khoat)

When you love a place, you can’t help but remember the special foods that captivate every visitor. I too, am just an ordinary person who misses Hue for its spicy, mouth-watering bun bo Hue (beef noodle soup), who fell in love with Hue over a bowl of light, delicate com hen (rice with clams), who delights in the perfect flavors of banh nam (steamed rice dumplings), and cherishes the dozens of sweet, delicious local desserts.

If you visit Hue and don't explore the ancient citadel, then you haven't truly experienced Hue. The Imperial City of Hue was the seat of the Nguyen Dynasty for 143 years, from 1802 until 1945. This historic site is now part of the UNESCO-listed Complex of Hue Monuments.

Visiting the Imperial City isn’t just sightseeing – it's a way to learn history firsthand, to see where our ancestors lived, built, and governed this land, and to draw life lessons from their experiences.

The royal tombs of the Nguyen Dynasty are also essential stops for any visitor. I particularly enjoy the Tu Duc Tomb (Khiem Tomb), with its intricate design and picturesque scenery, the Duyet Duc Tomb (An Tomb) with its simple, humble architecture, and the Khai Dinh Tomb (Ung Tomb), a blend of the new and the traditional, unique in its fusion of modern and old elements.

I will never forget the sense of calm and peace I felt standing in the Thiên Mụ Pagoda complex – an ancient pagoda atop Ha Khe Hill, surrounded by tall pine trees, with the Perfume River quietly flowing below.

"Return to beloved Hue, following the song of memories, / Looking for the girl in the purple dress, dreamy and soft, / The Perfume River is busy but still searching for her…", the lyrics from "Hue Thương" by composer An Thuyên echoed in my mind. Perhaps I’ve just realized that I don’t need to chase after material things or fleeting fame. All I need is to live a simple, peaceful life, content with each day that passes.

Hue still holds many places I long to visit, like the Vi Da Village, Bao Vinh Ancient Town, the Thuy Xuan incense village, or the Huyen Khong Son Thuong Pagoda... But for now, I’ll have to wait for the day when I can return, because once you fall in love with Hue, there’s no escaping it!

Nguyen Thi Binh An

The morning mist is thick, blurring the mountains and trees in a mystical haze from the Kim Phung mountain range, as though the sunlight will never return, signaling the arrival of autumn. But by midday, the sky clears and rays of sunlight pierce through the clouds, so bright that they make the grapefruit glow pink against its round skin.

Visiting Mount Ngự, Perfume River, Gia Hội Bridge

Exploring the Imperial City, Thừa Phủ Wharf, Kim Long

Lost in a visit back home

Mesmerized by Hue’s beauty and poetry

Passing Đồng Khánh, seeing the restless schoolyard

Hue forever lures poets with its charm

Whose shadow is waiting for a traveler to stop

Perhaps it’s the poetic conical hat they wear

On some days, a chill sends shivers down your spine, the air suddenly turning crisp, as if autumn rain will fall endlessly on the rooftops. Yet, without warning, heat returns, like the lingering warmth of summer, making beads of sweat form on your brow. Bewilderment marks the first days of autumn in Hue, where the weather shifts unpredictably—sun and rain, joy and sorrow all intertwining! Is there a steady autumn breeze that can hold this season in a constant purple hue? Are the rainstorms chasing one another across the waves so persistent that we can believe the melancholy “open sky has no shelter”? Hue’s sunsets by the Perfume River glow golden and vivid, only to suddenly fade into a melancholic, watercolor blue along the pathways of the Imperial City. Hue's skies cloud over in August, filled with gray, creating a dreamy, ghostly ambiance. But then, at midnight, the full moon rises, casting its captivating and mysterious light, like a secret lover returning without invitation.

Wearing the eternal poetic long dress

Letting my dark hair flow with the music of love

Seeing the smile behind the conical hat

Hearing the soft footsteps of a stranger passing by.

Don’t be fooled by the sun shining on the areca palms of Vỹ Village! The morning may look like a pristine gemstone, but before you know it, the rainstorm will roll in from the Bến Ngự bridge. Do not grow too attached to the morning sunshine on the Ngự Viên road, for it cannot hold back the storm brewing in the air. In just a few moments, the sun will break through, filling the courtyard with golden warmth, beckoning you outside to hang your clothes on the line. Time passes quietly, but it leaves a trace of memory.

I’ve visited Hue more than once, carrying the memory of its past, faithful to the Hue of old, to the autumns gone by, and to myself—unchanged by time.

I sought the full moon of the Mid-Autumn Festival at Vọng Cảnh Hill, hoping for a perfect, luminous moon. But often, the August rains will soak the waiting clothes. The moon doesn’t always appear as expected, and it leaves behind a longing for the magical childhood dreams of old. The sudden thunder and rain wash away all illusions, leaving only the emptiness of disappointment before sleep. Yet, there are moments when the moon returns unexpectedly, pure and deep like the eyes of a long-lost lover!

I’ve wanted to find the “Golden Autumn” when I returned here to gather the fallen leaves as once sung, but I realized autumn here is not golden, but emerald green, like the jade in the deep wells of Trọng Thủy’s past. I have learned to recognize the autumn rustle of leaves, with the dry yellow leaves only an echo of the past. The real Hue autumn is forever green, where the leaves never turn yellow. Only then do you realize that Hue’s autumn is uniquely different!

I’ve wanted to find the Perfume River with its deep purple twilight, to engrave the memory of the river’s eternal love, gazing from the Trường Tiền Bridge as the river flows silently past the mountains. The vast river, glowing with the last light of the setting sun, turns cloudy and dirty, carrying traces of longing and sorrow. The purple hue of the river and the enduring spirit of Hue fade away like a dream of a past lover, lost in memories, waiting in silence.

Today, Hue lies beneath the pouring rain

All day, the rain falls—Hue feels strangely unfamiliar

When the sun shines, or when the rain unexpectedly arrives, Hue’s autumn offers no clear, fixed image for the heart to follow. The transition from season to season in Hue is clouded with an air of uncertainty, where the wind, rain, and sun blur into a chaotic feeling of timelessness. The senses become sharp, heightened in the midst of the elements, listening to the whispers of the seasons in every raindrop, every leaf, every quiet moonbeam. This is the unpredictability of Hue’s early autumn, where life and nature weave together in a tapestry of fleeting moments.

If you want to understand the fleeting nature of life, come to Hue during the seasonal change...

A visit to Hue

Visiting Mount Ngự, Perfume River, Gia Hội Bridge

Exploring the Imperial City, Thừa Phủ Wharf, Kim Long

Lost in a visit back home

Mesmerized by Hue’s beauty and poetry

Passing Đồng Khánh, seeing the restless schoolyard

Hue forever lures poets with its charm

Whose shadow is waiting for a traveler to stop

Perhaps it’s the poetic conical hat they wear

Wearing the eternal poetic long dress

Letting my dark hair flow with the music of love

Seeing the smile behind the conical hat

Hearing the soft footsteps of a stranger passing by

Today, Hue lies beneath the pouring rain

The rain falls all day—Hue feels strangely unfamiliar.

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