“Hồ Chí Minh City is a metamodern swirl where contrasts collide in unexpectedly beautiful ways. Street food stalls and historic alleyways buzz beneath a skyline of new towers, while motorbikes weave between colonial galleries and upcycled modernist cafés. The city’s turbulent history has given way to an electric surge of energy and creativity, and today it feels like a metropolis that can never quite sit still. What makes exploring it so compelling is the layering of old and new — a place where tradition, design, and rapid urban change coexist, creating an experience that is kinetic, chaotic, and best enjoyed with a sense of spontaneity.”
Anan (meaning “eat, eat”) turns Vietnamese street food into fine dining without losing its edge. The multi-level interior of the so-called nhà ống (tube house) stacks kitchen, counter and dining rooms vertically, mixing polished concrete and neon with views over the chợ cũ (“old market”) outside. Chef Peter Cường Franklin’s menu treats local dishes with modern technique, making the restaurant feel like a conversation between sidewalk cooking and contemporary design.
Set in a corner building that blends art deco and modernist features, Yunka pairs Nikkei cuisine with a postmodern interior reimagined by StudioDuo. The designers extended the building’s curvature into the dining rooms using natural patterns and free-form geometry, creating a soft, continuous flow between the bar and dining areas. A border of greenery reinforces the sense of calm.
Tales by Chapter presents vegan fine dining in an intimate, softly lit room centred on the restaurant bar. Dark timber, muted colours and a handful of carefully placed tables create a comfortable, calming atmosphere suited to its multi-course menus.
Mặn Mòi Restaurant serves classic Vietnamese dishes in a warmly detailed interior. Timber screens, patterned tiles and carved furniture create a rustic aesthetic, while rooms unfold like a private residence. The setting suits a menu rooted in tradition, giving the meal the feel of being invited into someone’s house rather than dining out.
Noir removes sight entirely, serving its menu in complete darkness. Guests are guided by visually impaired staff, shifting the focus to taste, texture and sound rather than presentation. The dimly lit entrance and garden feel deliberately understated, making the contrast with the pitch-black dining room all the more striking once the meal begins.
Contemporary Vietnamese cooking is served at NÔM Dining, whose light, carefully composed interior balances tradition (French tiles, Chinese characters) with modern detail (crescent bar, creative light fixtures).
The Cocoa Project pairs dessert café with a bioclimatic renovation of a 1950s house by T3 Architects. Original lightwells, wall gaps and shaded buffer zones of the modernist home were reopened to improve ventilation and bring daylight back into the interior after earlier alterations had sealed the building and covered the heritage features.
Set in a 1956 townhouse, Sipply Coffee Roastery combines specialty coffee with an inspired renovation by Sgnha Architects. Original tiles, staircases and balconies of the Vietnamese modernist home are preserved, while each room is fitted with curved inner shells made from recycled plastic, creating a dialogue between past and present.
The Running Bean by NU Architecture & Design occupies a rebuilt corner townhouse that blends old and new. The upper floors retain their original Neo-Haussmann character, while the lower levels introduce a contemporary façade. Repeating arches and bronze-glazed terracotta tiles catch the shifting light, creating a café interior that feels closely tied to the rhythm of the neighbourhood.
The Pi is a refreshing, small, brightly lit interior that eschews the speakeasy gloom. Most seating gathers around the bar, where experimental drinks are mixed in full view. The relaxed, open layout gives the space the feel of a neighbourhood living room devoted entirely to cocktails and conversation.
Stir keeps its focus on classic cocktail craft in a compact, low-lit interior built around the bar counter. Dark timber, shelves of bottles and close-set seating create an intimate atmosphere which extends to the balcony.
Overlooking a leafy thoroughfare, RAW+Atelier unfolds across two floors. The interiors favour raw textures, low light and handcrafted details that reflect a design philosophy that embraces imperfection. Open from morning until late, the space moves easily between moods — a place for lingering cocktails at night and, the next day, slow recovery over coffee.
Built in 1885, the Continental remains one of Saigon’s most enduring colonial landmarks, its colonnaded façade and shaded veranda little changed since the days of French rule. Once a haunt of journalists, spies and soldiers—and immortalised by Graham Greene in The Quiet American—the hotel has, remarkably, avoided the luxury renovations seen in the heritage hotels in other Asian cities.
Designed by A21studio, The Myst is a theatrical example of Vietnam’s biophilic architecture, its white façade cut with deep square openings from which dense foliage spills. Inside, the Bason Café is a Frankensteinian memorial to the nearby Ba Son shipyard, demolished for redevelopment, with reclaimed anchors, timber and industrial fragments woven into the design.
Dark timber, patterned tiles and eye-catching artwork fill the interiors of Hôtel des Arts, creating the feel of a collector’s house rather than a modern tower. Behind the cultural references, the building rises high above District 3, its rooftop bar and pool revealing the contrast between romantic past and fast-changing present.
Silverland Bến Thành draws on Vietnamese craft traditions to shape a hotel with a strong sense of place. Bamboo, woven textures and warm timber details run through the interiors, while the kitchen and bar adopt an almost organic design, giving the space a fluid, sculptural quality.
Upstream from the city, An Lâm Retreat sits on the banks of the Saigon River, its low villas set among dense tropical planting that screens out the urban skyline. Timber, stone and thatch give the resort a rustic feel, while open-air terraces and shaded walkways blur the line between indoors and garden.
Set back from the main road, Gallery Medium has a calm, light-filled interior that keeps the focus firmly on the purchasable contemporary artwork. Clean white walls and simple partitions create a restrained backdrop for exhibitions of painting and sculpture, giving the compact space the feel of a quiet retreat from the noise of the street outside.
Maison Marou is set within an upcycled colonial-era terraced house where artisanal chocolate takes centre stage in a bright, richly patterned interior.
The Hanoia Flagship Store, designed by G8A Architecture & Urban Planning, is a compact example of contemporary Vietnamese retail design. Hanoia is known for high-end Vietnamese crafts—particularly lacquerware—and the interiors delicately mirror local shophouse design.
Chợ Lớn (aka Chinatown) feels distinct from the glass towers of other districts, its streets instead lined with shophouses, temples and wholesale markets that reflect Saigon’s long Chinese heritage. Narrow lanes bustle with herbal shops, metal workshops and noodle stalls, while faded balconies and tiled façades hint at the neighbourhood’s trading past.
South of Lê Thánh Tôn Street, the small cluster of lanes known as Japan Town packs bars, ramen shops and hostess clubs into a tight tangle of narrow alleys. Neon signs, sliding doors and stacked balconies give the area a distinctly Tokyo-like feel, especially after dark.
In Đa Kao, colonial houses sit beside modern town homes, while tree-shaded avenues give the area a slower rhythm than the commercial core. Popular with creatives and young professionals, it hosts burgeoning dining, café and cocktail scenes.
Hidden within the Archbishop’s Residence compound, this chapel is one of Hồ Chí Minh City’s few precolonial structures. With dark timber walls and traditional yin–yang roof tiles, it feels closer to imperial Huế than Saigon (aside from the Latin cross above the roofline). Built elsewhere by the king in the late 18th century for a French bishop, it was later relocated here and converted into a chapel. Access via the Trần Quốc Thảo gate.
The adjacent Notre Dame Cathedral draws the crowds, but the 1880s Central Post Office offers greater rewards for the discerning eye. Styled like a grand railway station, it reflects France’s urge to display technological confidence in a newly colonised land, emphasised by a façade inscribed with the names of European thinkers. Look up to spot rooftop naga motifs—more typical of Cambodia, also a former French colony—a subtle nod to regional hegemony.
The modernist General Sciences Library sits in striking contrast to the colonial streets that surround it. Completed in 1971 by Vietnamese architect Bùi Quang Hanh, the library—still in use today—uses a perforated façade, trees and even a shallow moat to create natural cooling. It remains one of the city’s clearest statements of locally shaped tropical modernism.
This favourite photography spot sits on a site layered with symbolism. Once part of the destroyed citadel gate, it later held a colonial water tower and then a World War I memorial. The modernist square that replaced it, with its octagonal plan and concrete lotus, was shaped by Vietnamese phong thủy (feng shui), meant to tame a restless dragon beneath the city that was responsible for the city’s wartime misfortunes.
Rising above District 1, the Bitexco Financial Tower is Hồ Chí Minh City’s most recognisable piece of postmodern architecture. Completed in 2010, its tapering glass form was intended to evoke a lotus bud, a national symbol of renewal, though locals often joke it bears greater resemblance to a corn cob, Vietnamese baguette or perhaps even Stark Tower. Its projecting helipad adds a futuristic flourish.
Vegetation spills from the terraces of Sky House, a 2019 residence by MIA Design Studio that rethinks the dense Saigon townhouse and reflects Vietnam’s growing biophilic approach to architecture. Rather than filling the generous plot with extra rooms, the architects devoted nearly half the space to light, wind and greenery, creating a tall skywell threaded with trees and ponds.