Top 10 Best Essays on Hanoi's Winter

...Then one day, the sky is no longer clear blue

Then one day, the trees are eerily silent

And the wind arrives, bringing winter with it

Carrying with it the falling golden leaves...

(A Winter's Day - Bao Chan)

The winter song seems to stir up gentle, lingering emotions, awakening tender moments as I stroll through the streets of Hanoi, discovering corners of the city bathed in the colors of a fairy tale. Many pleasant surprises unfold as I wander through the ancient streets of Thang Long, or sit under the eaves of old houses, listening to the rain's melody, as time feels like it’s stretching across centuries. Winter has arrived! The early chill of winter still clings to the fading warmth of late autumn, as the morning fog gently dances through the grass and the yellowing leaves, casting soft rays of sunlight, filling the air with a delicate, bittersweet nostalgia. There is a memory that quietly rises with the wind, filling me with a quiet longing for the past.

I escape the harsh southern sun that is slowly withering my thoughts of you, Hanoi, to lose myself in the streets, swept by the cold northern wind, searching for you. Yes, is it the winter wind that hides you behind the soft sunlight beside the ancient house in the Old Quarter, making me ponder over the beauty that is hard to name? Yes, is it the wind that carries the chilly breath of winter, leaving me to silently wrap myself in the warmth of my gaze, shyly hiding the unspoken stirrings of my heart?

Yes, is it winter that hides you in the fragrance of flowers carried by street vendors, weaving through narrow alleys, pulling me into this unfamiliar yet somehow familiar place? Yes, is it winter that hides you in the short days that cast long shadows across moss-covered roofs, making me search for you among the evening bustle of the city as night falls...

Strangely, Hanoi’s early winter seems busy and alive with changing shops and new menus, crowds of young men and women filling the streets and shops to update their wardrobes with the newest styles of the year. As the evening arrives, the streets are full of life with people dining and laughing in close quarters. It feels like life is rushing forward at a frantic pace... Yet hidden beneath it all is a subtle, slow rhythm of time, that only those who have lived in Hanoi or deeply fallen in love with this city can truly appreciate.

Winter is here! It's the crisp morning air carrying the scent of flowers from the outskirts of the city, a gentle, elegant gift from nature to Hanoi’s streets. It’s the soft, warm sunlight of midday falling on the ancient streets, casting them in a golden glow, making Hanoi feel even more regal, as if it’s frozen in time, reminiscent of the city’s 1,000-year-old past. It’s the evening sky painted with purple hues, like a magician’s slow wave of a hand, covering the city with a translucent silk veil, as the sounds of the streets fade, making the day linger just a little longer. And at night, the moonlight spreads over everything, giving the streets an otherworldly, almost mystical charm, like a surreal painting full of hidden stories yet to be told.

Winter in Hanoi! By your side, Hanoi, I feel as if I’ve returned to my youth, cycling around Hoan Kiem Lake with a basket full of flowers: pure white daisies, delicate purple asters, vibrant yellow chrysanthemums, deep red roses, and soft pink peonies, with a few stray wild reeds mixed in. There is a childlike joy as we share ice cream at Trang Tien ice cream shop by the lake, as time seems to rewind with every melting bite, and our conversations wander endlessly, pure and innocent, like we’re back to our teenage years... And then, in a moment of innocence, I kiss you softly, tasting the sweetness of your lips, a memory that lingers long after I leave your side.

Winter is here! I feel the gentle but persistent rain that makes me and Hanoi find an excuse to sit together for longer in an old café. Holding your hand in warmth, we watch the rain fall softly on the tiled roofs, listening to the comforting rhythm of the raindrops and the sound of coffee being poured. The song “And one day, the sky is no longer blue/ And one day, the trees are eerily silent/ And the wind arrives, bringing winter with it/ Carried along with the falling golden leaves” plays softly in the background, as we look into each other’s eyes, seeing ourselves in each other's reflections, realizing that though we may be far apart, Hanoi’s early winter has already buried us in its quiet nostalgia.

Hoai Huong

I love Hanoi’s winters – the kind that hold a special place in my heart.

Winter brings a gentle tenderness, nostalgia, and a sense of longing. When we feel alone amidst the crowd, we suddenly realize that winter has quietly returned.

The rustling of leaves as cool winds sweep through them changes the very atmosphere, giving it a unique, almost magical feel. Hanoi may be most stunning in the fall, but it is in the winter that the city truly stirs the heart.

Hanoi's winter carries its own colors and fragrances. It feels like these special hues and scents have permeated every corner of the streets, subtly marking the city's soul.

On a quiet evening by West Lake, if you gaze up, you may catch sight of the brilliant red leaves of the ancient loc vung tree, glowing like a sunset stretching across the horizon.

In one fleeting moment, you might find an old banyan tree, standing like a masterpiece against the grey winter sky. Beneath it, a flower vendor selling dainty white daisies could become an unforgettable sight, etched into your memory.

The cold air feels like a breath that sneaks under your thin coat, making your body shiver with every gust of wind. You hurriedly tug at your collar, fearing a sore throat. In such moments, passing by a pho stall and smelling the rich aroma of simmering bone broth, mingling with the fragrance of spring onions and fried garlic, you can’t help but crave the warmth, wanting to dive into the steaming bowl and savor its comfort.

You feel the wind whispering through your tousled hair, evoking a sense of wistfulness. The sharp chill of early winter makes you long for the warmth of a familiar embrace, to hide in a cozy corner while listening to the soft melody of “Nostalgia for Winter.” Perhaps a warm cup of jasmine tea or a shimmering cup of coffee, a hurried handhold, or a shy kiss – all these fleeting moments intertwining into soft, innocent memories.

Hanoi for me is an unforgettable memory of my youthful days. On free weekends, we would skip home and stay at the dorms, urging each other to go out. We would joyfully ride behind friends' bikes or stroll through the streets, hearing the wind whispering and the leaves rustling beneath our feet, feeling the coolness in the air, pushing us closer to the ones beside us, in search of warmth. The sweet scent of burning charcoal and roasted corn would linger in the air. The roasted corn crackling under the leaves would release a warmth and sweetness that makes you long to sit down and enjoy it with a friend, savoring the warmth until your cheeks are flushed, not knowing if it’s from the ember’s glow or from the chill in the wind.

Sometimes, I wander the streets alone and find myself sitting at a sidewalk stall, watching the vendor skillfully cut crispy, golden tofu, steaming hot, and serve it alongside a bowl of vermicelli with a fragrant dipping sauce. Or on a very cold winter morning, I might stop by a street vendor selling sticky rice, its fragrant fried shallots filling the air, golden and crispy, sprinkled over a sticky mound of rice that smells of pork fat. Nearby, the snail soup vendor with a pot of broth steeped in sour tamarind and spicy chili will draw me in, making me stop to savor the warmth, the flavors, and the memories of winter.

Throwing on a coat, stepping out into the cold morning or evening air, in that crisp winter chill, I will soon find the beloved flavors of life. Hanoi’s charm lies in every narrow alley, in the unmistakable flavors that only Hanoi can offer.

Winter returns like a promise kept. The streets are bathed in mist, and cold winds sweep through them. The trees that were covered in yellow leaves just yesterday are now bursting with red, gently letting go of their leaves and returning to their roots.

Hanoi’s winter must be felt through every sense – you must listen, taste, and feel it in every beat of time.

"Hanoi, my beloved city, in the winters that fill my heart with memories."

In a narrow alleyway, time seems to stand still as the haunting melody of a song drifts through the air... In some December of the distant past, the sweet fragrance of milk flowers would fill the small street. It was the first time my heart raced at a glance exchanged between us. I knew then that winter would never feel cold again – not with his warm hand holding mine, not with the scarf he wrapped around my neck. The milk flowers bloomed, filling the air with their scent, as if sending my thoughts to the stars. The sound of a piano playing somewhere near Hoan Kiem Lake would blend with the breeze. I quietly whispered, 'The moonlight is dancing!' That winter, when I was just 19, the cold air and the milk flowers reminded me of my first innocent love – pure, awkward, and so full of light. It's a love that was fleeting, but the fragrance of the milk flowers remains eternal in my memory, especially when the chill of the late autumn wind sweeps through the streets.

No matter how cold, Hanoi in winter beckons you to the streets. You’ll find yourself sitting in a small, old eatery, ordering a steaming bowl of pho, or waking up early to breathe in the morning mist by West Lake and feel the chill – but it’s a pleasant one. Cold even calls you to eat Tràng Tiền ice cream, to feel the chill from within.

Winter in Hanoi is like no other. Each season brings its own distinct beauty, filling the heart with a song about Hanoi’s charm.

Anyone who says that Hanoi’s winter is just like any other northern city hasn’t strolled slowly beneath the ancient trees, hasn’t stood for a long time before the waves of West Lake, watching the winter sun stretch across the grass. They haven’t heard the sparrows chirping happily, sharing tales of the sunny days, nor heard the bells of the Cửa Bắc church ringing softly in the distance.

Sometimes I wander the winter streets, admiring the old houses with their yellowed walls, standing resilient through rain and shine. I wonder: which footsteps have passed here, leaving behind the smell of guava leaves? Who is the city waiting for, with those deep, glowing streetlights? The scent of winter in Hanoi is indescribable, no one can put it into words.

Is it the scent of the cold wind blowing from the Red River or the fragrance of the morning dew on the flowers of Nhật Tân? Which street smells of traditional herbal medicine? Which one carries the roasted coffee aroma? Which one carries the soft scent of wood or incense? Sometimes, still lost in thought, you’ll hear the chimes of church bells blending with the sound of the wind.

In other places, winter feels hurried, urgent. But in Hanoi, winter moves slowly, peacefully. People sit close to each other, savoring the sweetness of a bowl of bánh trôi Tàu, spiced with ginger, or share a roasted corn cob, its smell mixing with the scent of burning charcoal.

Despite the biting wind, despite the daily worries, we must smile, laugh, and dress beautifully in scarves and coats of every color. There’s only one winter each year, but how many more winters will we experience in our lives?

For those far from home, the early winter chill always evokes longing – the long sound of the train whistle when it enters Hàng Cỏ station, the swish of bamboo brooms on the sidewalk corners, the cold rain softly dripping on a blushing cheek. There’s something so stirring about winter, and many nights I lie awake, overwhelmed by a memory I cannot name.

That is Hanoi. That is Hanoi in winter.

Listen to the breath of the city in the mist. Hear the footsteps of someone returning down old paths. And suddenly, you’ll recall the song of a winter long gone:

"Oh, winter night in Hanoi, awake in the rain.
I search for you, seeking happiness once more.
Oh, winter night in Hanoi, breathing out its cold.
Oh, winter night in Hanoi, alive in my dreams…"

Hoàng Lan

"Let me return to the days of my childhood,
When the dust of time had yet to cover the quiet paths..."

I unexpectedly found myself in the fairytale world of my youth, all because of the first northeastern winter wind sweeping through Hanoi's streets. It was also the moment I said goodbye to the capital and headed back to the sunny, breezy south. The early chill of winter wasn't harsh, but enough to have everyone don a light, personal winter coat...

I returned to visit the old apartment complex where my family had lived throughout my youth. There were no traces left of the beloved days of the past, but I still recognized the mossy charm of the small, deserted alley and the walls surrounding the sports field, the fairytale world of our childhood.

The old tree, the banyan, was still there, weathered and worn. As I touched its rough, textured bark, I felt a sudden emotion, realizing that beneath the faded scars of time, there was still a vibrant stream of life flowing. The old tree had endured through the years, its dark green leaves reaching for the weak sunlight of winter. Strangely, the pink vines curling around the tree's trunk still shimmered golden in the morning sun, almost as if they were greeting me back to the world of my childhood...

I wandered through the old alley, where our childhood wall had once stood, a place where we carved our names and played games like jump rope and marbles. That legendary wall was gone now, replaced by the large gate of a new house, its walls draped with vines, their pink flowers falling like memories, filling the air with their sweet fragrance, gently pulling me back into the tender, nostalgic memories.

The road to school, the sports field, the old pond, and the rows of old brick houses now exist in my memory like a dream, a fairytale come to life. The tall, white reed beds, the lush green vegetable gardens with their purple flowers, the wide grassy fields where we would catch grasshoppers after school — all of this is now replaced by soft artificial turf, but I can still catch the faint, soothing scent of dried grass in my memory...

"The winter wind gently returns...
Dropping soft, wistful pink buds
And I find myself, once again, a child...
Lost...
In the quiet alley of childhood..."

Thank you to the first northeastern wind of winter for bringing me back to the fairytale world of my youth, even if only for a brief, fleeting moment...

The echo of that dream still lingers sweetly, gently, making me long to bury my head in the warmth of an early winter sleep, much like the little girl I once was, curled up in the quilt that my mother used to warm me during the cold, harsh winters.

Hoài Phương

I'm originally from Nghe An, but I spent some time bonding with Hanoi – a city filled with dreamy winters of youthful days. Back then, though no one could predict what would happen, I thought I would stay in the capital forever. But then, unexpectedly, I had to say goodbye. It was a farewell during the moment when I loved Hanoi the most. Perhaps that’s why, even now, my longing for Hanoi is so deep...

Once, when I returned to the old place, a soldier friend told me, 'Hanoi doesn't hurry.' And yet, every time I visit, I am always in a rush. I never have enough time to visit all the places I want to. I can’t get to those familiar spots that carry so many memories of my youth – like Trường Chinh street where my unit was stationed, or Tôn Thất Tùng street, where we spent late nights sipping snail wine with friends. There's Hoan Kiem Lake, where we enjoyed the cool Tràng Tiền ice cream. And those peaceful nights when we rode our bikes to Long Bien Bridge to watch the river. There are so many other beloved streets and corners in Hanoi.

There are two seasons in Hanoi that I adore – autumn and winter. I've returned many times, but this seems to be the first time I've come back during winter. It still has that chilly first breeze of the season, drifting through long, rustling streets. There's the warmth when strolling through familiar paths, with no strangers around. A sense of nostalgia mingles with a touch of loneliness, just enough to remind me of a time long past. A time when youthful dreams and ambitions filled the air. The place where I once held a hand on a cold winter night, now a memory. The place where I took a bus ride alone, feeling bittersweet. The place where a love has become a memory of the past. A brief moment of realization: I’ve grown older in these youthful streets, surrounded by modern people.

Winter in Hanoi seems to be unchanged through the years. The trees along the streets have just started to turn red. A hint of milk flower fragrance still lingers in the air. The streets at night remain enchanting and mysterious. Only the hearts of the people seem to have changed. Well, how could they not change? After all these winters, I am left to embrace the coldness alone. I can only walk these nostalgic streets by myself, watching dry leaves fall from the trees, while couples walk hand in hand. I hear the cold winds howl, and the restless thoughts in my heart echo in the quiet winter night. I can’t help but wonder, as I remember someone from the past, if you ever loved Hanoi’s winter? Years have passed, and now, everything has become a memory, all covered in the greenish hue of time. Hanoi's winter today doesn’t seem as cold as before. A home has been built. A love has been buried in the old quarter...

In this rare return to Hanoi's winter, I encountered some sad things. The bargaining and shouting of motorbike taxis, the noise from a traffic incident, the bickering of noodle shop owners over customers. The long traffic jams. The sight of rivers that haven't been cleaned. Hanoi’s elegance and grace have faded somewhat.

But Hanoi's winter still holds some timeless essence. There are beauties here that can never be replicated anywhere else. The misty, ethereal view of West Lake feels like it exists between two worlds. A peaceful moment by Hoan Kiem Lake amidst the noisy streets. The warmth from a steaming bowl of pho. I long for the familiar calls of street vendors. I crave roasted corn and dumplings in Hanoi's cold winter nights. I yearn for the songs about Hanoi that echo through the bus rides at the end of the day. I long to return to that Hanoi winter of years ago, to hold a slender hand in the chill of the monsoon wind and walk together...

Every time I return to Hanoi, it is always rushed. There's always something to do, so I never have enough time to linger and enjoy the beauty of the streets and lakes. Every time I come back, it’s always in a hurry. I never get to call an old friend or reminisce about the past. I only have time to meet the streets, alone. The winter streets, quiet and covered with dry leaves. The winter streets, full of loneliness. The winter streets, with no one to share them with.

Goodbye, Hanoi in winter. Goodbye, the bittersweet emotions.

Goodbye, Hanoi in winter. Goodbye, with hopes to return one day...

Nguyễn Đình Ánh

Hanoi in the cold season always brings a unique feeling. It’s the sensation of being lost in the bustling streets, as the wind swirls leaves around the feet of people walking by. A longing for warmth, a yearning for tenderness.

The street seems longer in the sharp, biting chill, but it’s rarely somber. There, you’ll find a flower vendor, her colorful bouquets brightening the scene. Vibrant phoenix flowers, pure white daisies, and the soft scent of pink roses fill the air. That’s all it takes to turn the street into something truly beautiful.

In the midst of winter, Hanoi always preserves the image of the old, leafless flowering trees. Their bare branches seem sad, yet they gleam with the fiery red leaves that remain, catching the last rays of the setting sun by the lakeside. It’s like a masterful work of art, a beautiful, timeless painting.

If it’s mid-winter, you’ll occasionally spot the old, towering maple trees. Their leaves, slowly turning into a radiant, shimmering red, still carry traces of life. A few dark green leaves remain, creating a striking contrast that feels like a magical blend of colors. The scene before you resembles a canvas, painted with bright strokes that still carry a soft, dreamy air of nature’s quiet majesty.

On a winter morning, you might find yourself walking down the street, where a light scarf drapes over the shoulders of a young woman. Or see elderly people strolling leisurely on the sidewalks, wrapped in long woolen coats, wearing cute berets against the crisp, sometimes biting air, or the gentle drizzle that adds a romantic touch to the day. A street vendor selling sticky rice or noodle soup, or a woman with crispy fried pastries or tea, sets up her small stall by the lakeside. The simple, comforting smell of food fills the air, offering a bit of warmth in the cold, biting wind.

In the afternoons, you might spot a chessboard at a nearby tea shop, where older gentlemen gather for a casual game, not aiming for victory but simply sharing stories while waiting for their families to join them for the evening meal. Hanoi in winter is not as frantic as in the summer. Beyond the dry, cool air, it feels as though everything has been purified, leaving an unusual sense of clarity. It feels like people are closer, walking slower, savoring every step. Perhaps it’s the cold that makes us yearn for each other’s warmth, or perhaps it’s the city’s new-found serenity that calms our hearts.

I love the feeling of winter evenings, wrapped in a thick, warm coat, walking with someone through the streets. Sometimes, we sit by a hot corn grill, enjoying the crackling sound of corn popping on the fire, inhaling its sweet, smoky aroma, while the winter wind blows, sharp and biting.

Happiness and love are only what you choose to feel. And for me, every time I return to Hanoi, regardless of the joy or sorrow, the worries or the relief, simply watching the life unfolding here makes me feel recharged, full of love and hope. My Hanoi, forever beautiful, even in the icy chill of winter.

Hanoi, when the wind blows, always evokes a special emotion. The feeling of being adrift in the streets, lost in a day where the sound of leaves swirling underfoot echoes in the air. A craving for warmth, a desire for softness.

Lê Huyền

The cold of winter makes people crave closeness, filling hearts with nostalgia and memories of times spent with loved ones.

I adore the winter days in Hanoi. I enjoy the feeling of facing each gust of crisp winter wind alone, sipping on a bitter cup of coffee, savoring the solitude. It may sound strange, doesn’t it? Who actually likes being alone? But for me, I don’t feel lonely at all. After all, I have Hanoi embracing me every day!

Hanoi's winters leave a lasting impression, especially with the endless, chilling rain. The rain doesn’t come in torrents but lingers, soaking the city for hours. It’s the kind of weather that keeps clothes damp, mold creeping in everywhere, and causes dry, cracked skin. Children and the elderly fall ill, one after another. But few realize, winter is often the first love for lonely hearts, teaching them the art of feeling and getting lost in its beauty. Winter seems to remind us to cherish and love ourselves more.

On winter mornings in Hanoi, I often wake up early, drifting into the day’s hustle. Is it winter that gives us a chance to dress up, to look our best? It’s the time to show off cozy, warm outfits like something from a Korean drama. Woolen sweaters, knee-high boots, and colorful scarves all add to the charm. Just thinking about it makes me happy! With a thin layer of makeup, I confidently walk down the familiar streets, under the watchful eyes of passersby. A slight chill brushes against my coat, making me shiver. A rare soft sunlight flickers through the tree branches, and I quickly snap a photo, afraid that the sweet, fleeting moment will disappear in an instant. The truth is, being alone during Hanoi’s winter is not as lonely as people say.

I love the cozy feeling of lying in bed, watching my fat cat mimic me by curling up in a ball. I enjoy winter weekends when I can leisurely stroll the streets, buy a bouquet from a street vendor, and then treat myself to a hot bowl of pho to warm up, dipping crispy, golden fried dough sticks into the aromatic broth. In the late afternoon, I ride my old bicycle, listening to Ngô Thụy Miên’s love songs, exploring every corner of the city. When the city lights up with street lamps, I visit Cầm, grab a book, and lose myself in its pages, enjoying the winter’s cold, yet feeling completely at peace. I am never truly alone.

The chill of winter draws people closer, evoking memories of shared moments with family. In the evenings, my family gathers in the Old Quarter, stopping at a congee stall, chatting and sharing stories. Parents understand the pressure of their children’s studies, while children begin to empathize with the struggles of adulthood. Yes, winter is cold, but it warms the heart!

Mộc Miêu

Winter arrives, leaving a longing in the hearts of those from Hanoi who are far away. Sometimes, you wish you could return for just one night to feel the cold that the southern regions can never offer, only to leave again.

For those who have spent years away from Hanoi, the winter often brings back deep memories. When you’re living in the capital, it feels normal, but only when you're far away does the yearning truly hit.

The most poetic moments of winter are early in the morning or as evening falls. Mornings in Hanoi, many enjoy sitting on the sidewalk, watching people pass by, while evenings are perfect for savoring street snacks. There’s fried egg with mugwort, crispy fried rice cakes, hot cake pudding, or a bowl of congee served right on the street corner.

As the temperature drops, you look out and see the world covered in a soft white haze. The wind blows, sending fallen leaves swirling across the streets. The rush of people seems more frantic, as they try to escape the cold that seeps through their not-so-thick coats.

They say Hanoi’s winter has become less beautiful due to the increasing traffic jams, with cars and motorbikes crowding the streets. The once pure sounds of the city are replaced by the rumble of engines during rush hours. However, Hanoi still hides a romance that only those who truly understand the city can feel. This beauty of Hanoi winter remains, though it’s often hidden.

On drizzly days, the sky is gray, and the mist lingers on your hair and clothes like tiny crystals of salt. The cold seeps into your skin. Around West Lake, mist swirls over the water’s surface, and the trees along Thanh Niên Street grow even greener. Amidst the hustle, you can still find the small roadside tea stalls selling hot tea, ginger candy, and peanut brittle—a special winter charm of Hanoi.

When the temperatures drop further in northern Vietnam, Hanoi becomes bitterly cold. The sharp chill cuts through your skin, like needles, making you shiver even in light clothing as the wind blows mercilessly.

“…I still have you, the lonely tree in winter.

I still have you, the street corner abandoned by winter. The lonely moon in winter. That winter, the sound of the piano faded. The evening ceremony still echoes, why does the bell still ring?”

These lyrics from the song *Em ơi, Hà Nội phố* by composer Phú Quang capture the emotion of Hanoi winter perfectly. While winter exists in many northern provinces, only Hanoi has such a unique beauty.

In the early mornings, when the first rays of sun break through the leaves, people gather at street-side cafés, sipping warm coffee, snacking on sunflower seeds, and watching the hustle of traffic. Even visitors from afar enjoy the cold that is unique to Hanoi.

Famous singer Tấn Minh once brought great success with his song *Nỗi nhớ mùa đông*. His voice, full of emotion, captures the different feelings listeners experience:

“It seems like anyone passing by the door

The northern winter wind chills the heart

A few golden autumn leaves have fallen

And today, they leave me...”

Each time this song plays, it brings a sense of cold and an endless longing. The northeastern winter wind blowing over rooftops signals the arrival of winter, and the yellow leaves now rest on the ground. The sound of the evening bell from a distant place evokes memories of “winter nostalgia.”

Composer Bảo Chấn beautifully describes the landscape in his song *Một ngày mùa đông*:

“One day, when the sky is no longer blue

One day, when the trees stand empty

And the wind, it brings winter

Blowing away the falling yellow leaves

This meadow, where dew has vanished

This doorstep, where footprints remain

Winter has come, and you still wait for me

The autumn flowers have withered…”

Winter arrives with the biting wind, the empty trees, the soft drizzle, and the memories of love. On a quiet winter day, the person in the song remembers their lover and realizes how intense their feelings were, though now, those feelings are just memories—memories that are often hard to forget.

The beauty of Hanoi's winter is not just experienced while wandering the streets, sipping coffee on the sidewalk. Travelers and locals alike can also enjoy the night-time food culture, with grilled fermented pork rolls, boiled snails, roasted chestnuts, congee, pho, or rare dishes like *lục tàu xá* and *chí mà phù* that are only available in specific spots, popular with the younger crowd.

Hoàng Hà

The chill of Hanoi's winter is unlike any other. I’ve experienced winter in many places, but here, the cold is sweet and deep, leaving a lasting impression. I recall the feeling of wrapping myself in a heavy, sun-scented blanket. The sound of my mother waking me for school, the crackling fire in the kitchen with a pot of warm, fragrant porridge, and the soft coughs of my father as the cold settles in... Everything feels like a slow-motion film, replaying beautifully in my mind each time winter arrives.

In the early winter mornings, a mysterious mist lightly blankets the city. The trees along the streets stand still, their bare branches reaching for the pale sky. Some days, the winter sun rises, casting warm beams over the scene. The sun peeks through the leaves, pausing for a moment on a late-blooming jasmine flower. It mischievously rests on a cozy scarf or someone’s hair, fluttering in the cold breeze. The winter sun makes the white daisies shine in their purest form.

Winter snacks in Hanoi are unforgettable, tempting food lovers at every turn. During afternoon breaks, strolling through the streets, you can’t help but be drawn to the scent of fried banana cakes, sweet potato cakes, stuffed pastry, or fried savory-sweet snacks. These golden delights sizzle in hot oil, ready to be served as soon as they’re golden and crispy. It’s such a joy to watch the bustle of the street while savoring a hot, crispy bite in the cold air.

Moreover, if you visit Hanoi in winter, you must try hot rice cakes, boiled snails, and warm sweet soups. These dishes give you a warm, comforting feeling. Perhaps that’s why whenever my friend from afar returns to Hanoi, they eagerly encourage everyone to wander the streets and indulge in the cravings they've missed.

One distinct feature of Hanoi’s winter is the small roadside tea stalls. The vendors only need a large teapot and a few boxes of peanuts, sesame candies, sunflower seeds, and small chairs. Yet, these stalls rarely lack customers.

It’s strange, people in Hanoi enjoy sitting in the cold, warming their hands with a simple cup of tea, quietly chatting about nothing in particular. There was a time when I lived far from Hanoi, and during the winter, I would long for the streets and corners, the moments of sipping hot tea, nibbling sunflower seeds with friends. Some tea stalls are as old as their owners. I was away for a few years, and when I returned, I found the same old tea stall with the same friendly vendor, and the warm feeling of familiarity rushed back into my heart.

At night, the cold seems deeper. The mist wraps everything in a chilly embrace. The streets glow with a golden hue from the streetlights. The cold tugs at your heart, and your emotions soften with nameless feelings. You suddenly crave a warm hug. On the streets, you see glowing “fireflowers” rising from roasted corn stands. The scent of roasted corn and sweet potatoes drifts in the breeze, drawing people to stop. In the night’s chill, it’s a real treat to savor the chewy, sweet kernels of fresh corn, chatting with the vendors about silly things… It’s simple yet truly delightful.

Hanoi’s winter holds quiet, profound moments. For me, experiencing these beloved winters here is one of life’s greatest blessings.

Tường Vy

Winter in Hanoi isn’t as noisy and bustling as summer, nor as warm as autumn, nor as vibrant with life as spring, yet it still leaves a nostalgic feeling in the hearts of those who have experienced it. It’s strange, isn’t it? Winter is supposed to be the coldest season, yet walking down the streets, you’ll encounter many warm and delightful moments.

As winter begins, Hanoi is draped in a dull, gray hue that is uniquely its own. These are the days when the city, usually so busy and hurried, seems to slow down, with red leaves and the pale winter sunlight adding a serene touch to the atmosphere.

Winter in Hanoi means cozy moments at local cafes. The street food aroma wafts from sidewalk vendors, tempting passersby to stop. Whether it’s roasted corn, hot bowls of sticky rice or sweet soup, or a steaming cup of coffee... all call out gently, “Come, sit, chat a little, warm your heart.”

Despite the cold, stepping outside during Hanoi’s winter is an odd pleasure. The chill nips at your skin, making you long to rush home, curl up under a thick blanket, and sip on a hot tea or read a book.

But if you only fear the cold, you’ll miss out on the charm of Hanoi’s winter. Only by waking up early will you experience the slow and quiet rhythm of the city, with empty streets and alleys still wrapped in a misty, ethereal silence. Somewhere, you can faintly hear the cries of street vendors – their voices echoing through the stillness.

To truly embrace winter, a ride around Hoan Kiem Lake is a must. The fallen leaves fluttering in the wind and the barren trees create a distinct beauty against the gray sky, giving Hanoi a sense of peace and solitude. Then, take a stroll around West Lake to watch the sunset, soaking in the dreamy atmosphere. It feels so peaceful to walk along Thanh Nien street, wind in your hair, and when your legs tire, sit back and watch the sky, rubbing your hands together to warm them, chatting endlessly about the winters of years gone by.

People often say that Hanoi’s winter is the season of love. I remember, as a child, when the northern winds blew, my mother would sit by the fire knitting scarves and warm clothes. The cold outside was nothing compared to the warmth of her hands.

Hanoi in the winter always brings out simple, endearing moments: a hot drink quickly made to stave off the cold, small talk about the weather, or the gentle reminder to wear an extra layer. Winter in Hanoi draws people closer, in a hand-holding or a soft embrace. Year after year, people long for Hanoi’s winter because of these small, simple things.

Despite all the complaints about the cold, if winter doesn’t arrive, people find themselves saying: “Why hasn’t winter come to Hanoi yet?” Because Hanoi’s winter is more than just the chill – it’s about the warmth shared among people, with each heart holding its own little sun to keep others warm during the cold days.

Thanh Huyen