Stepping out of the MRT station into Little India is not merely a change of scenery; it is a full-body immersion into a world that feels delightfully at odds with the sleek, glass-and-steel modernity of the rest of Singapore. The transition is instantaneous. The first thing that hits you is the air—a dense, intoxicating medley of cumin, coriander, jasmine, and the distinct, sweet scent of frying dough.

Then comes the visual explosion. Shophouses painted in sunshine yellows, electric blues, and passionate pinks stand shoulder to shoulder, their facades adorned with intricate plasterwork. Tamil film music drifts from electronics shops, competing with the rhythmic chants from nearby temples and the honking of traffic. Flower garlands spill from open storefronts onto the pavement in cascades of marigold orange and rose red.

This is not a manufactured cultural exhibit designed for tourists. It is the real, beating heart of a diaspora, a living, breathing neighborhood where history, faith, and daily life are woven together into a vibrant tapestry. Spending a half-day here—or even better, a full day—is spending time in one of Southeast Asia’s most culturally rich urban enclaves, a place where every corner offers a new discovery.

The Heritage Spine: Walking Serangoon Road

Serangoon Road is the main artery of Little India, but it is best experienced not as a destination to be checked off a list, but as a slow, meandering walk. The road and its network of side lanes—Kerbau Road, Dunlop Street, Buffalo Road, Campbell Lane—contain almost everything Little India has to offer: temples, mosques, flower garland sellers, spice merchants, textile shops, and restaurants wafting the irresistible aromas of curry and freshly baked naan.

As you walk down Serangoon Road, the architecture itself tells a story. The shophouses, many of which date back to the 19th and early 20th centuries, are a testament to the area’s rich history. With their wooden louvered windows, colorful facades, and intricate details, these buildings are a photographer’s dream. Some are painted in bold, contrasting colors, like the vibrant pink building with its dark wooden shutters, while others retain a more subdued, weathered charm, their peeling paint and faded signs whispering stories of decades gone by. The juxtaposition of these traditional structures against the backdrop of modern high-rise apartments and construction cranes in the distance is a visual reminder of Singapore’s constant evolution, where the old and the new coexist in a delicate, sometimes chaotic, harmony.

Sri Veeramakaliamman Temple: A Spiritual Centerpiece

The most visually spectacular stop on your walk is undoubtedly Sri Veeramakaliamman Temple, one of Singapore’s oldest Hindu places of worship. Built in 1881 by Bengali labourers, its six-storey gopuram (entrance tower) is a breathtaking sight, encrusted with hundreds of vibrantly painted Hindu deities, each telling a story from ancient mythology. The temple is dedicated to the fierce goddess Kali, the destroyer of evil, and the energy here is palpable. The temple is busiest on Sundays when thousands of worshippers come to pray, their colorful saris and the scent of incense filling the air. Even for those who are not Hindu, the temple offers a profound sense of peace and a glimpse into the spiritual heart of the community. Respectful visitors are welcome outside active prayer times, provided they dress modestly and remove their shoes before entering.

Just a short walk from the temple, you will find the Tan Teng Niah House, a historic villa built in 1900 that catches the eye with a riot of color—eight different shades across its walls and shutters. It is the last surviving Chinese villa in Little India, a quiet testament to the multicultural layers that have defined this neighborhood for generations. The house, with its intricate woodwork and vibrant paint job, stands as a beautiful reminder that Little India is not just an Indian enclave, but a melting pot of different cultures that have lived side by side for centuries.

The Indian Heritage Centre: A Journey Through Time

No visit to Little India is complete without stepping into the Indian Heritage Centre, a four-storey building whose facade draws inspiration from the traditional Indian baoli—the stepwell. The design is a unique trellis of steps and balconies that line the exterior, creating a stunning visual that reflects Singapore’s skies by day and lights up into a vibrant mural of Little India by night.

Opened in 2015, the centre is the first museum in Southeast Asia dedicated to the diversity of Indian culture. Its five permanent galleries house over 400 artefacts—treasured heirlooms, jewels, diaries, and family photographs—that together illustrate the story of the Indian community in Singapore. The journey begins in the 1st century, tracing early interactions between South and Southeast Asia, before unfolding into the stories of Indian Singaporeans and their immense contributions to the island’s development.

What makes the Indian Heritage Centre truly special is how it was built: powered by the community’s voices and recollections. It is not just a collection of objects behind glass; it is a living archive of memories. Virtual guides and interactive gameplay elevate the experience, but it is the personal stories that linger long after you leave. The centre also hosts a dynamic calendar of performances, workshops, and festive celebrations throughout the year, ensuring that the culture it preserves is not just remembered, but actively celebrated.

The Indian Muslim Heritage Centre: A Different Thread

A short journey away—in the historic Chinatown area on Telok Ayer Street—sits another essential piece of the story: the Nagore Dargah Indian Muslim Heritage Centre. While Little India is often associated with Hindu culture, it is crucial to understand the diverse fabric of the Indian community, which includes a significant Muslim population.

The building itself dates back to 1828, when early Tamil Muslim traders from the Chulia community built a shrine to honour Saint Shahul Hamid of Nagore, following their safe voyage from India to Singapore. Its architecture is a striking blend of Indo-Islamic and European neoclassical elements, with fluted Corinthian pillars, ornate arches, and minarets topped with onion domes. The shrine was designated a national monument in 1974, and after a revitalisation project, it reopened in 2011 as a heritage centre—no longer a place of worship, but a space for exhibitions and guided tours that highlight the history and contributions of the Indian Muslim community in Singapore. It plays a key role in promoting intercultural understanding, showcasing a heritage that bridges South India and the Malay Archipelago.

The Sensory Overload: Markets, Flowers, and Food

Beyond the museums and monuments, Little India is a place of small, vivid, and deeply sensory moments that stay with you long after you leave. At Tekka Centre, the ground floor is a bustling wet market of fresh seafood, tropical fruit, and rows upon rows of vibrant produce, while the upper hawker level serves some of the finest South Indian and Malay street food in the city. The air here is thick with the sounds of haggling and the smells of sizzling spices.

A visit to the flower stalls is an absolute must. Here, you will find thousands of fresh marigold garlands—the deep, fiery orange and bright yellow blooms threaded into intricate necklaces—hanging in massive, fragrant curtains. These garlands are not just decorations; they are an integral part of daily worship and celebration, and watching the florists weave them with practiced speed is an art form in itself. The vibrant colors of the flowers against the weathered walls of the shophouses are a photographer’s dream, capturing the essence of the neighborhood in a single frame.

And then there is Little India Arcade on Campbell Lane, where jasmine garlands hang beside packed spice shelves and trays of traditional Indian sweets. It is a treasure trove of textiles, souvenirs, and local life. As you wander through the narrow alleys, you will encounter street art that brings the walls to life—mural of colorful cows covered in floral patterns, majestic faces of Hindu deities peering down from above, and scenes of traditional trades like sewing and spice grinding. These murals are not just street art; they are visual narratives that celebrate the history and identity of the community.

And let us not forget Mustafa Centre, the sprawling, six-floor, 24-hour department store that is a Singapore institution unto itself. It is chaotic, fascinating, and completely unique—a place where you can buy anything from gold jewelry to groceries at any hour of the day or night. It is a microcosm of Little India itself: overwhelming, diverse, and utterly captivating.

The Rhythm of the Streets

What makes Little India truly special is the rhythm of its streets. It is a place where you can witness the everyday life of a community unfold before your eyes. A man walking past a brightly colored storefront, a group of women in beautiful saris chatting on a corner, the smell of a fresh dosa being prepared in a restaurant kitchen—these are the moments that define the neighborhood.

At night, the area transforms again. The neon signs of the restaurants and shops flicker to life, and the streets fill with people. The Aroy Mak Mookata sign, with its glowing Thai noodles and Thai BBQ, hints at the cross-cultural influences that flow through Singapore. The Indian Muslim restaurants, like the iconic Al Haleem on Perak Road, with its bright orange awning and historic shophouse architecture, offer a different culinary tradition, serving up rich, slow-cooked stews that warm the soul. The Royal Arabian Mandi and Bhai Biryani signs are beacons for food lovers, promising a feast of aromatic rice and tender meats.

The street signs themselves are a delight. The green sign for Campbell Lane is a perfect example of Singapore’s multicultural identity, displaying the street name in both English and Tamil script. It is a simple detail, but it speaks volumes about the inclusive, multilingual fabric of the city.

The Asian Itinerary Verdict

Little India is not a place you simply see. It is a place you feel. It is a place where the sensory density—the colors, the spices, the music, the faith—creates an experience that leaves you wonderfully overwhelmed, your camera full, and your spirit lifted.

For travelers seeking to understand the layers of Singapore’s multicultural identity, this neighborhood is not optional. It is essential. It is a reminder that beneath the sleek, modern surface of the city-state lies a rich, complex history of migration, struggle, and triumph. It is a place where the old world meets the new, where the sacred and the profane walk side by side, and where every corner tells a story.

Whether you are wandering through the halls of the Indian Heritage Centre, standing in awe before the gopuram of Sri Veeramakaliamman Temple, or simply sipping a cup of teh tarik while watching the world go by, Little India will leave an indelible mark on your memory. It is a true kaleidoscope of culture, color, and faith—a living testament to the beauty of diversity.

Key Information for Visitors:

Indian Heritage Centre: 5 Campbell Lane, Singapore 209924. Open Tuesday–Sunday. Closed Mondays. www.indianheritage.gov.sg/en

Nagore Dargah Indian Muslim Heritage Centre: 140 Telok Ayer Street, Singapore 068604. Open Monday–Friday, 10am–5.30pm; Saturday, 9am–1pm. https://ndimhc.mimbar.sg/

Getting There: Little India MRT Station (DT12/NE7) or Farrer Park MRT (NE8).

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Banyan Tree Samui, one of Thailand’s leading beachfront resorts, has announced a partnership with T.A.I Studio, bringing a collection of handwoven bags and baskets from Phatthalung in southern Thailand to the resort’s onsite boutique, Banyan Tree Gallery Samui. The collection is made from krajood sedge and banana tree fibre — materials grown and gathered in Phatthalung — transformed by combining traditional weaving and production methods with contemporary design.

Every object begins somewhere. Krajood grown, gathered and prepared in Phatthalung, southern Thailand

T.A.I Studio was founded by husband-and-wife Nick and Sai Rawling as a way of connecting these existing materials, skills and making traditions with luxury hospitality. Today the studio works alongside a network of growers, weavers and specialist makers around Phatthalung, with different hands contributing weaving, hand-loomed cotton, embroidery, leatherwork and finishing.

“When these traditions are thoughtfully integrated into contemporary hospitality, something else becomes possible,” said Rawling. “Visitors encounter a culture that is living rather than displayed.”

“The product isn’t the whole experience,” Rawling added. “It’s a way into a much bigger story about people and place. That’s why working with Banyan Tree feels particularly relevant — there is a shared interest in connecting hospitality to its surroundings rather than importing a sense of place.”

Banyan Tree has a longstanding commitment to both sustainability and working with local communities.

“We chose T.A.I Studio bags because they closely align with ‘Banyan Tree’s founding ethos of ‘Embracing the Environment, Empowering Communities’,” said Spa & Gallery Manager Naphasawan Badklang. “These products celebrate local craftsmanship and heritage.”

Knowledge and tradition carried forward. Phatthalung villager Pa’Niat weaving banana tree fibre

“By showcasing these bags at Banyan Tree Gallery Samui, we help promote the artisans’ stories and craftsmanship to a wider audience,” she added.

Banyan Tree Samui’s onsite boutique showcases a number of locally infused handicrafts and signature amenities, including Banyan Tree bath & body treatments and aromatherapy collections, which combine Asian-inspired ingredients with natural botanical blends. All retailed products meet Banyan Tree’s criteria of supporting personal wellbeing while being mindful of the environment.

Banyan Tree Gallery was founded on a simple belief – that commerce can be an engine for good.

For more than three decades, the brand has supported artisan livelihoods worldwide, preserving the cultural heritage of craft, and advancing a more sustainable future.

What began as a small initiative has grown into a global ecosystem of purposeful commerce. To date, Banyan Tree Gallery has commissioned more than 1.2 million products, supported 339 communities, and collaborated with 240 non-profit organisations.

A Sanctuary for the Senses

Banyan Tree Samui is tiered into a lush landscape and overlooks the pristine waters of the Gulf of Thailand

Banyan Tree Samui’s 88 spacious pool villas, each with its own private infinity pool, provide a serene and secluded oasis where guests can unwind and reconnect with nature. Designed to seamlessly blend with the surrounding landscape, the villas feature contemporary Thai architecture and are adorned with locally sourced materials and artwork, creating a truly authentic and immersive experience.

The resort hosts three restaurants, including Saffron which was recently listed in the 2025 MICHELIN Guide. Other onsite facilities include a fitness centre, a kids’ club, a meetings and events centre, a spa with unique Rainforest hydrotherapy facility, and a library.

For reservations and more information, contact samui@banyantree.com or tel: +66 077 915 333.

Villas at Banyan Tree Samui, each with a private infinity pool, start from US$585 per night.

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I have always been fascinated by cultures born from mixing – not the pure or the isolated, but the hybrid, the borrowed, the reinvented. That is exactly what the Peranakan Museum in Singapore celebrates: the world of communities that emerged when people from China, India, the Arab world, and Europe settled in Southeast Asia, married locally, and built something entirely new. I visited as part of my Asian Itinerary cultural media trip to Singapore, and every object seemed to tell a story spanning oceans and centuries.

What Does “Peranakan” Mean?

The first gallery, Origins, asks a simple question: What makes someone Peranakan? The word comes from Malay – anak means “child”, and peranakan means “born of”. Originally it described someone locally born but with heritage from somewhere else, but over time it became a cultural identity in its own right, referring to mixed-heritage communities whose unifying trait is the melding of ancestral cultures – Chinese, Indian, Arab, European – with the indigenous cultures of the Malay-Indonesian archipelago. The museum is careful not to give one single definition, showing instead that there is no single Peranakan culture but many expressions, and inviting you to ask which parts can be traced to different influences and whether something is shared.

Forging Communities Across the Region

Forging Communities explains how intermarriage alone was not enough to create a new culture – a process of acculturation and a new sense of identity had to develop. Many communities trace their genealogy to Malacca of the 14th through 16th century, a thriving port kingdom, and by the 19th century Peranakans were well established in Penang, Malacca, Singapore, and Jakarta. A significant feature of the Peranakan world is its development under European colonial powers – Portuguese, Dutch, and British – and many Peranakans depended on trading networks that facilitated the exchange of cultural forms, from dress and luxury goods to food and language. One of the most striking displays is an interactive map showing the waves of migration that formed these communities – from South Asia, Arabia, China, and Europe – all converging on the Malay-Indonesian world over many centuries.

Style: Batik, Needlework, and a Shared Aesthetic

The Style galleries explore fashion, adornment, and decoration, and Batik is one of the most fascinating sections. Batik refers to both the technique and the cloth – wax is applied as a resist to prevent an area of the pattern from taking dye, using a pen-like instrument called a canting or a stamp called batik cap. The Javanese probably decorated their cotton textiles with resist-dye methods as early as the 13th century, but the fine work that made Javanese batik famous was not produced on a commercial scale until the early 19th century. Batik centres mushroomed in the north-coast towns of Java from the mid-19th century, with the Peranakan communities in Malacca, Penang, and Singapore among the keenest wearers.

What I found most interesting was the section on Peranakan Chinese batik makers. Since at least the 17th century, they played a significant role in the production, consumption, and trade of batik, and their repertoire includes auspicious motifs adapted from Chinese symbolism. Synthetic dyes were imported into Java from the late 19th century, and Peranakan Chinese workshop owners were the first to experiment with them – giving rise to the pastel palette that characterises batiks from the north coast of Java. The museum also highlights Indo-Dutch batik makers, whose workshops were run by Indo-European women from the mid-19th century. Popularly called “Batik Belanda”, their batiks depicted motifs inspired by Dutch fashion magazines, Christian symbols, and European fairy tales, and the practice of signing batiks was pioneered by these workshop owners as a sign of quality and ownership.

Needlework and Wedding Connections

Peranakan needlework refers to beadwork and embroidery made by or to the tastes of Peranakans. Ranging from slippers to bed-curtains, it functioned as gifts, dress accessories, and most prominently, decorative textiles for major celebrations, especially weddings. Residing in port cities at the confluence of trade routes, Peranakans obtained a wide variety of materials, including Chinese silks, European glass seed beads, and Indian gold threads, and regional styles vary: Java and Sumatra were key centres for gold thread embroidery, while Malacca and Singapore share close ties reflected in similar embroidery styles, and Penang is known for jewel tones and lavish designs.

Ancestor veneration is a cornerstone of Peranakan spiritual life, rooted in Hokkien customs and Confucian values of filial piety, and the museum displays the ancestral altar of Tan Kim Seng – a silver offering service acquired by his grandson as an expression of filial devotion, which remained in the historic home for seven generations. Peranakan Chinese weddings were traditionally held over 12 days, though by the 1920s many were held over one to three days. At the heart of the bridal chamber was the wedding bed, decorated with beadwork and embroidery, and it was believed that a stylish bed promised a happy marriage. Among the rites was the An Chng ceremony: the bed was blessed by having a boy whose parents were alive roll across it three times, in the hope that the newlyweds would soon conceive a baby boy to continue the family line.

Fashion, Kebaya, and Performing Identity

The Fashion gallery explores how Peranakan fashion responded to the cosmopolitan environment of port cities by bringing together diverse influences. The sarong kebaya consists of a kebaya (an open blouse) and a lower garment – a sarong or kain panjang – and by the 1930s the kebaya was form-fitting, with complex embroidery created using Singer sewing machines. In 2024, the kebaya was added to the UNESCO list of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity, a multinational nomination involving Brunei, Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore, and Thailand.

The section on Performing Identity shows how the sarong kebaya takes on another dimension when worn by performers. The archetype of the Peranakan matriarch was probably forged in the landmark play Emily of Emerald Hill, written by local playwright Stella Kon, and later popularised in dramas like The Little Nyonya. The museum also highlights wayang Peranakan, where male actors historically played female roles because it was considered improper for nyonyas to be seen on-stage.

Ceramics, Food Culture, and the Home

Ceramics played an integral part in Peranakan social, ritual, and culinary life. The wares most closely associated with Peranakans, called nyonyaware, are overglazed polychrome enamelled porcelains likely made in Jingdezhen, China, commonly used for festive occasions as well as for ritual purposes, with bright colours and elaborate designs featuring symbolic Chinese motifs. War and political turmoil in China, together with the declining fortunes of the Peranakan community after the Second World War, led to the end of nyonyaware production, but it remains one of the most popular elements of Peranakan material culture.

The Tok Panjang section describes a Chinese Peranakan style of dining – Baba Malay for “long table” – referring to a feast eaten at a long rectangular table on special occasions such as weddings and birthdays. The museum displays the commissioned dinner service of the family of Kapitan Cina Yap Ah Loy. Peranakan cooking fuses the cuisines of China, South Asia, and the Middle East with that of Southeast Asia, and it is one of the community’s key living traditions that continues to evolve today.

The Home floor is the unifying theme – a living space is a home when it becomes familiar, when you recognise it as yours. The museum displays the Mandalay Villa section, featuring Mr and Mrs Lee Choon Guan. Lee Choon Guan was chairman of the Chinese Commercial Bank, and his wife, Mrs Lee (née Tan Teck Neo), was one of the founders of the Chinese Ladies’ Association and its first president. In 1918 she became the first Peranakan woman to be made a Member of the Order of the British Empire in recognition of her charitable efforts during the First World War. The section on Sireh explains the social importance of betel chewing, while the Brown and Gold Furniture section shows how locally made teakwood furniture combining European and Chinese influences was popular among Peranakans.

Final Thoughts

The Peranakan Museum is not a large museum, but it is a dense one – dense with stories, objects, and ideas. It asks you to think about identity, about hybridity, about what happens when cultures meet and create something new, and it does so with beauty and deep respect for the communities it represents. I left thinking about my own family, my own mixed heritage, my own sense of belonging. That is what the best museums do – they do not just teach you about others. They teach you about yourself.

Practical Information

Disclosure & Thanks

My visit to the Peranakan Museum was hosted as part of my Asian Itinerary cultural media trip to Singapore. I would like to extend my sincere gratitude to the museum for their warm welcome. 

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CLICK ON THE IMAGE TO ENLARGE AND SCROLL THE GALLERY

My solo media trip to Singapore with Asian Itinerary, dedicated to discovering the cultural and artistic soul of Singapore, led me to one of the latter: the Asian Civilisations Museum (ACM). I had planned a reasonable visit. I ended up spending five glorious hours inside, a personal record for this trip

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Some museum visits are a quick walk-through, a tick-box on a cultural itinerary. Others demand you surrender to them completely. My solo media trip to Singapore with Asian Itinerary, dedicated to discovering the cultural and artistic soul of Singapore, led me to one of the latter: the Asian Civilisations Museum (ACM). I had planned a reasonable visit. I ended up spending five glorious hours inside, a personal record for this trip, which meant my planned visit to the Peranakan Museum had to be postponed to later in the week. I simply could not tear myself away.

The museum’s permanent galleries alone justify a full day’s exploration. It is the only museum in Asia devoted to exploring pan-Asian civilizations, showcasing the artistic and diverse heritage of cultures from across the continent. The experience is thoughtfully curated across three large floors, each telling a distinct part of Asia’s story through trade, faith, and artistry.

Level 1: The Maritime Silk Road

The journey begins on the ground floor, where the Trade and Maritime Silk Route Galleries immediately transport you to an era of bustling ports and seafaring merchants. These galleries tell the story of how goods, ideas, and people moved across Asia’s waters, shaping the region’s history.

The undisputed highlight here is the Tang Shipwreck Gallery, home to the museum’s “star exhibit.” In 1998, a ninth-century Arab dhow was discovered near Belitung Island, carrying tens of thousands of ceramics, gold, and silver objects destined for the Middle East. The exquisite artifacts recovered from this wreck are a testament to Singapore’s historic role in global maritime trade and the sheer scale of exchange along the Maritime Silk Route.

Level 2: A Gathering of Faiths

The second floor is perhaps the most captivating, bringing the spiritual history of Asia into sharp focus. The Faith and Belief Galleries present a remarkable collection of Buddhist, Hindu, Islamic, and Christian art, all in one space.

Here, you can see a tall bronze statue of a calmly smiling Buddha, alongside intricate depictions of Hindu gods like Shiva. A rare and masterful red sandstone Buddha from the Mathura school, dated to the Kanishka era, is among the museum’s prized possessions. The galleries explore how these religious beliefs spread and merged through trade, with artifacts showing the Virgin Mary depicted in Buddhist robes or donning Sri Lankan royal necklaces.

Level 3: Craftsmanship and Aesthetics

The third floor focuses on the decorative arts and the fusion of cultures. The Chinese Ceramics Gallery is a must-see, featuring over three hundred objects from earthenware burial goods to the finest Imperial porcelains. The ACM’s collection of lustrous Dehua porcelain from Fujian province is recognized as one of the finest and most comprehensive in the world.

This floor also houses the Fashion and Textiles Gallery, which often showcases the historic global impact of Indian textile production and its role as a medium of trade and cultural exchange with the Middle East, Southeast Asia, and Europe.

Of particular note was the Chinese Scholars Gallery, which explores the world of the literati—the scholars and officials who shaped Chinese culture. The gallery displays the “Four Treasures of the Study” (inkstones, ink sticks, paper, and brushes), along with scholar’s rocks, fine furniture, and ancient bronzes that reveal the taste and pursuits of this elite class.

A Sweet Interlude

My visit was further enriched by a serendipitous encounter with a special multi-sensory exhibition. The museum, in collaboration with tea brand CHAGEE, had curated “Garden of Senses: A Tea Reverie.” In a dedicated area, a knowledgeable guide from CHAGEE explained the exhibit in detail, showing us four types of tea to smell and sharing insights into the tea and coffee culture of Singapore. The showcase also featured art installations and artifacts related to tea, including a fascinating tea-brewer that makes tea in the same way it would make coffee.

After her engaging tour, she recommended I visit the CHAGEE store inside the museum to try one of their teas—an excellent suggestion I gladly took. Refreshed, I was ready to dive back into the permanent galleries to explore the parts I had missed.

A Serendipitous Encounter: The “Let’s Play!” Exhibition

My visit was particularly special as I was lucky enough to catch the museum’s special exhibition, “Let’s Play! The Art and Design of Asian Games”. This vibrant showcase features over 150 historical artefacts and contemporary works that explore the origins and cultural significance of games from across Asia.

It was fascinating to see how games like chess, mahjong, and weiqi are more than just pastimes; they are metaphors for life, tools for diplomacy, and expressions of power and status -7. The exhibition reveals, for example, that chess began in India as a war game called chaturanga, which eventually evolved and spread to Persia and beyond, giving us the modern chess we know today

A Final Verdict

Whether you are a history buff, an art enthusiast, or a curious traveler, the Asian Civilisations Museum offers an exquisite and profound journey through the heart of Asia’s cultural heritage. I recommend setting aside at least a good three hours for a proper tour. The museum is surrounded by manicured gardens along the riverfront, and the colonial-style Empress Place Building is a masterpiece in itself. It is a place where, as I discovered, a simple museum visit can easily transform into an unforgettable five-hour odyssey.

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Vanakkam – Namaste – Saab Sri Akal – Assalamu Alaikum – Welcome!

These six words, printed on the wall just inside the entrance, set the tone for everything that follows. The Indian Heritage Centre in Singapore is not just a museum about one community. It is an invitation to understand how Singapore was built – by Tamils and Punjabis, Muslims and Hindus, Chettiars and Chulias, merchants and coolies, poets and politicians.

I visited the IHC on the afternoon of May as part of my Singapore media trip for Asian Itinerary. I had already spent the morning at the Chinatown Heritage Centre, so I arrived with high expectations.

A Building That Speaks Before You Enter

From the outside, the Indian Heritage Centre is impossible to miss. Located at 5 Campbell Lane in the heart of Little India, its four-storey glass façade shimmers like a diamond – reflective by day, glowing with colour at night. Designed by architects Gaurang Khemka and Greg Shand, the building draws inspiration from the traditional Indian baoli (stepwell), with a dramatic staircase that connects the upper and lower levels while offering aerial views of the surrounding district.

The architects wanted the building to be “visually and physically permeable at ground level” – and it works. You do not feel like you are entering a fortress of culture. You feel invited.

A Decade of Heritage

Opened in May 2015 by Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong, the Indian Heritage Centre was the first museum in Southeast Asia dedicated to the Indian community’s diverse heritage. PM Lee called it “a timely gift from the Indian community to Singapore” – and indeed, 2015 marked both Singapore’s 50th year of independence and 50 years of diplomatic ties between Singapore and India.

Since then, the centre has welcomed over 1.6 million visitors. In 2025, to mark its 10th anniversary and Singapore’s SG60 celebrations, the Indian Heritage Centre introduced 60 new artefacts across its permanent galleries – many displayed for the first time.

How to Visit: Start at the Top

The best way to experience the museum is simple: take the elevator to the fourth floor and work your way down. This is the key to understanding the Indian Heritage Centre’s curatorial logic. The introductory video at the entrance of the fourth floor is excellent and prepares you for what you are about to see. I followed this advice. It worked perfectly.

Level 4: Early Contact & Origins

The fourth floor houses the permanent exhibition “Indians in Singapore: Past to Present” , which traces the history of South Asian presence in Southeast Asia from the 1st century CE all the way to the present day. The first gallery, “Early Contact: Interactions between South and Southeast Asia,” reveals something that many visitors do not expect. Indian cultural influence in this region did not begin with colonialism. It began more than 2,000 years ago.

As the gallery texts explain: “South Asian and Southeast Asian cultures have interacted from the beginning of the Common Era (and possibly earlier). Through traders, monks, political emissaries and missionaries, interactions between the two regions flourished.”

The evidence is everywhere: Hindu and Buddhist temples across Southeast Asia, Sanskrit inscriptions in Vietnam and Indonesia, and Tamil trade records mentioning Kalagam (now Kedah, Malaysia) dating back to the Sangam era.

Another gallery, “Roots and Routes: Origins and Migration,” showcases artefacts from the Pallava, Chola and Pala periods – including a rare gilt-covered bronze figure of Arthanarishvara (the androgynous form of Shiva and Parvati) from Nepal, dating back to the Kushan period (1st–3rd century CE).

Level 3: Faith, Trade & Community Life

The third floor is where history becomes intimate. Here you will find galleries dedicated to the religions that arrived in Southeast Asia via South Asia: Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam and Christianity. One of the most fascinating objects on display is a bezoar stone container from late 17th-century Goa. Bezoar stones – extracted from the digestive systems of sheep and goats – were believed to be antidotes to poison and were often worth more than their weight in gold.

Another highlight is a 19th-century ivory sewing box from Vizagapatnam, crafted by Kamsali artisans for the Dutch and British East India Company markets. The box is styled like a house, painted with architectural details on all sides, and opens to reveal a neatly compartmentalised interior for sewing accessories. Then there is the Kalamkari hanging from Masulipatnam (circa 1800) – a hand-painted cotton textile featuring Persian-inspired medallion designs with fine lines of applied gold. It is exquisite.

But the third floor is not just about artefacts. Walking through the galleries, I noticed Indian-Singaporean families pointing at objects and whispering, “My grandmother had one just like this.” This is the power of the Indian Heritage Centre. It does not just display history. It brings it to life.

Level 2: Changing Exhibitions & Interactive Spaces

The second floor hosts temporary exhibitions that change throughout the year. During my visit, there was no special exhibition on display. Part of this floor is dedicated to children’s learning, with interactive paths and playful objects designed to introduce young visitors to Indian culture in a fun and engaging way. It is a great solution for families visiting the museum with young children.

Level 1: The Three Sculptures

Back on the ground floor, before you exit, do not miss the three sculptures displayed just outside the entrance. They depict Masala – a chilli, a clove, and a nutmeg with mace – representing the spice trade that first connected South Asia and Southeast Asia.

What to Do Nearby

After the Indian Heritage Centre, explore Campbell Lane and Serangoon Road. Just a few steps away:

• Sri Veeramakaliamman Temple – one of Singapore’s oldest Hindu temples (dedicated to Goddess Kali)
• Little India Arcade – shops selling spices, jewellery, textiles and souvenirs
• Tekka Centre – authentic Indian and Ceylonese food (try the masala dosa or biriyani)
• Mustafa Centre – 24-hour shopping for literally everything

Practical Information

Getting There:

• MRT: Little India Station (Downtown Line – Blue, or North East Line – Purple), Exit E
• Bus: Services 23, 64, 65, 66, 67, 131, 139, 147, 857 (stop 07031 on Serangoon Road, opposite Tekka Centre)

Disclosure & Thanks

My visit to the Indian Heritage Centre was hosted as part of my media trip to Singapore. I would like to extend my sincere gratitude to the Indian Heritage Centre for their warm welcome and for their essential mission of preserving and sharing these important stories. The IHC is small, layered, and full of flavour. This article is for Asian Itinerary and, as always, all opinions, words and images are my own.

The post Indian Heritage Centre Singapore: A Diamond in Little India appeared first on Asian Itinerary.

Singapore is a city of dazzling futures. But its past is alive on Pagoda Street. I visited the Chinatown Heritage Centre on the morning of 26 May as part of my media trip. I expected a small museum. What I found was a time capsule – three beautifully restored shophouses where the stories of sinkheh (new guests), coolies, Samsui women, Chettiars, Chulias and Baweanese migrants breathe again.

From the moment I stepped inside, I understood why this is the only place in Singapore that has meticulously recreated the original interiors of 1950s shophouse tenants. No glass cases. No velvet ropes. Just the creak of wooden floors, the scent of old timber, and the echo of lives once lived in cubicles no larger than a double bed.

A Warm Welcome

At the entrance desk, I was greeted by Cristina and Goh. Their smiles were genuine, their kindness immediate.

Cristina and Goh with their genuine smiles

You can tell immediately: these are people who love this place. They are not just staff; they are custodians of memory.

Goh carefully instructed me on how to follow the visitor footprint. Later, he would tell me, proudly, that the record visit lasts four hours. I believe him. My own visit flew past – two hours were not nearly enough.

A Sensory Journey Back in Time

QR codes allow visitors to scan and get deeper information

The Centre is spread across three floors. What makes Chinatown Heritage Centre extraordinary is its immersive soundscape. In every room, loudspeakers recreate the sounds of daily life: a tailor’s sewing machine stitching endless orders, footsteps climbing a wooden staircase, doors screeching on rusty hinges, people chattering in Hokkien, Cantonese, Teochew, Tamil, Malay, and cats miaowing in back alleys. You don’t just see the past. You hear it. You feel it. Also, Throughout the museum, QR codes placed near each display and room allow visitors to scan and instantly access deeper information about what they are seeing — a small but thoughtful touch that enriches the experience without cluttering the space.

The Greater Town (Tua Po)

After Raffles established Singapore as a free port in 1819, the Chinese were assigned the south bank of the Singapore River – then a swampy, forested swathe. The Hokkien settled along Telok Ayer Street, the Teochew along Merchant Road, the Cantonese in the core of Chinatown. This area became known locally as Tua Po – the ‘greater town’. Today’s Chinatown still bears the mark of the different ethnic groups that set up places of worship here, many of which still serve the community.

Where the Sinkheh Lived

The heart of the museum is on the second floor. Here, you walk through the actual cubicles where migrants lived. One display stopped me completely: a tiny cubicle no larger than a modern walk-in closet. Inside, a wooden bed shared by four men sleeping in shifts. The Cantonese called these infamous living quarters zyu zai kun – literally ‘piglets pen’. Cramped, unsanitary, and yet, this was home.

A tailor shop from times past

I saw a tailor’s workshop, a letter writer’s corner (many sinkheh were illiterate and relied on public scribes), and a coolie’s cubicle with nothing but a rattan mat and a wooden chest.

The Sinkheh: New Guests, Old Dreams

Between the 19th and mid-20th centuries, millions left China driven by famine, floods and unrest, making their way to Nanyang, the southern seas. They were called sinkheh – ‘new guest’ in Hokkien. On the wall, I read an excerpt from the “Rhyme of the Migrants”: “Whether there are earnings or none, return early / Do not let your family wait.” I read it twice. The second time, my eyes were wet.

Most sinkheh ended up as manual labourers

Life as a Coolie

Most sinkheh arrived unskilled and ended up as manual labourers – coolies, from the Chinese ku li (hard labour). Some came as indentured coolies, sold like cattle in the market. Their work was brutal: each coolie carried two sacks of up to 100 kg on their backs, running across narrow wooden planks while balancing on bare feet. A photograph from the early 1900s shows their faces. No resentment. Only exhaustion and resilience.

A Multi-Ethnic Chinatown

Chinatown Heritage Centre Singapore

One of the most important lessons of Chinatown Heritage Centre is that early Chinatown was already multi-ethnic. The Chulias (Tamil Muslims) settled along Cross Street. The Chettiars, known as moneylenders, flourished at Market Street. The Baweanese from East Java lived in pondoks around Club Street, practicing merantau – a rite of passage where young men leave home to seek fortune. One photograph from the early 1900s shows Chinese, Indian and Malay immigrants co-existing on the same street. This is not a detail. This is the heart of Singapore’s story.

Moving Images and Living Memories

One of the first cinemas-on-wheels

The third floor features a short film with haunting visuals: rickshaws, crowded piers, street wayang (Chinese opera), and the first cinemas-on-wheels. Speaking of street wayang: colourful costumes, lively music, dramatic stagecraft – it was something every Chinatown resident looked forward to. Singapore’s oldest opera troupe, Lao Sai Tao Yuan Teochew Opera, was founded in 1864 and still performs today.

And then there were the storytellers (gong gu lao). When night fell, they would sprinkle water to cool the air, lay straw mats, light an incense stick to keep time, and transport their audience – mainly labourers and the illiterate – to another realm. Before television arrived in the 1960s, the storyteller was the cinema of the people. Even the Cinema-on-Wheels is here: a wooden movie box mounted on a tricycle. I smiled. Then I felt grateful that such memories were preserved.

Amacha Tea Shop & Museum Shop

Amacha Tea Shop

At the end of my visit, Cristina handed me a 20% voucher for the attached Amacha Tea Shop, which specialises in herbal healthy remedies and lapis cakes. I bought a box of lapis sagu and a cooling chrysanthemum tea. Both were excellent. The museum shop sells heritage souvenirs and old photographs. I picked up a small print of Pagoda Street circa 1900. A fitting memory.

Final Verdict

The Chinatown Heritage Centre is not a glossy museum. It is for those who want to understand how Singapore came to be. You will walk through cubicles where families of ten slept side by side. You will hear the screech of doors that once closed on tired coolies. You will read poems written by illiterate migrants who only wanted to go home. And you will leave with a profound respect for the resilience of the human spirit.

The room of the sandal maker

Goh told me the record visitor stayed inside for four hours. I believe him. Two hours were not nearly enough. Next time, I will book a whole day.

Practical Information

Disclosure & Thanks

My visit was sponsored by Chinatown Heritage Centre as part of my media trip to Singapore. Sincere gratitude to Yi Qi for inviting me. All opinions, words and images are my own.

The post Chinatown Heritage Centre: The Soul of Old Singapore appeared first on Asian Itinerary.

Zentis Osaka will kick-off the third installment of its Art-in-Residence series with a June 1 unveiling of works by Japanese calligraphy masters Baikei and Taiga Uehira as well as the debut of a stay package featuring an introduction to the revered art form.

Anchored by an exhibition of original works throughout the boutique hotel’s public spaces, the near-year-long collaboration will encompass 11 pieces illustrative of the father-and-son duo’s passionate commitment to preserve the over-1,000-year-old art form by introducing new, contemporary expressions of shodō.

Essense of Shodo – Private lesson – Zentis Osaka calligraphy art residency 2026

In addition to being a shodō master and pioneer in live-calligraphy performances, the senior Uehira is president of the Osaka-based Seisho Calligraphy Association, which he founded in his hometown to promote the centuries-old practice of “zen in motion” through “the way of writing”. Taking inspiration from his father’s masterful brushwork and sharing in his desire to captivate the world with calligraphy, Taiga Uehira became a calligrapher, himself, and founded Calligraphia Japan with hopes of elevating the art by transforming it into a form of global entertainment.

“The deep contemplation and refreshing of the soul offered by Zentis Osaka resonates profoundly with the internal exploration and deepening of expression found in shodō,” said Baikei Uehira. “Themed on ‘Inheritance and Evolution’, this exhibition reflects our endeavor to visualize the breath of culture that connects the past, the present and the future”, added Taiga Uehira. “Through these pieces, it is our hope that guests will develop a sense of what it’s like when timeless heritage intersects with new encounters and evolves for a modern era.”

To complement the on-site gallery experience, the hotel is launching ‘The Essence of Shodō at Zentis Osaka’, a stay package that will allow guests to immerse themselves in the mindfulness-oriented artistic expression not only aesthetically, but also with a hands-on introduction.

Essence of Shodo – Water Calligraphy Set

The package includes:

• Two nights of accommodation in a Studio, Corner Studio or Suite
• A 60-minute, hands-on introduction to Japanese calligraphy
• A water calligraphy set that guests can take home (and use for practice)
• Bath salts featuring Parfum Satori’s signature ‘Satori’ fragrance, which evokes a meditative tranquility much like that which the art of shodō conjures

Hosted at the Seisho Calligraphy Association, the 60-minute introduction to shodō will be a private lesson taught by Baikei or Taiga Uehira (subject to availability). At its conclusion, guests will receive a traditional Japanese fan to take home, showcasing their choice of either their own calligraphy talents or featuring shodō by their instructor.

In lieu of the introductory workshop, guests already familiar with the basics can opt to participate in a ‘performance course’, which gives them the opportunity to try their hand at the kind of large-scale calligraphy that the Uehiras are known for. (An additional charge applies.)

“When we travel, enriching cultural experiences indelibly shape us. We hope that this encounter with over a millennium of Japanese culture – through shodō – will stir inspiration, reignite imaginations and give our guests new perspectives,” said General Manager Kiyotaka Saito.

Zentis Osaka Hotel Lobby – Credit Stirling Elmendorf

The collaboration with Baikei and Taiga Uehira marks the latest installment in Zentis Osaka’s Art-in-Residence series. In 2024, Paris-based Japanese artist itu’ presented an immersive stay experience by transforming a Corner Studio into a one-of-a-kind canvas in addition to exhibiting his works throughout the hotel and infusing his free-spirited style into the staff’s uniforms. In 2025, Osaka-based artist Syo Tanii brought his botanical works to the hotel for a year-long, rotating exhibition which concluded this March.

The ‘The Essence of Shodō at Zentis Osaka’ stay package will be available to book starting May 1, for stays from June 1, 2026 through March 31, 2027 (subject to availability). Rates start at JPY 67,000 (based on double occupancy), excluding taxes and service charge.

For more information, please visit: www.zentishotels.com

The post Zentis Osaka Celebrates Japanese Calligraphy appeared first on Asian Itinerary.

There’s a coffee you don’t expect. Not because of its color or its aroma, but for what it hides inside: an egg yolk whipped into a sweet, creamy cloud. You discover it while walking through the streets of Hanoi, in Vietnam, among the scents of a city that never sleeps. Plastic tables take over the sidewalks, stools sit low to the ground, and everywhere people sip something dark, topped with a pale yellow, almost golden foam. It doesn’t look like coffee. And yet, it is.

Café Giang, at 39 Nguyen Huu Huan Street

Cà phê trứng, Vietnam’s egg coffee, is neither a tourist gimmick nor a modern culinary experiment. Its story begins in wartime, when milk was scarce and hunger outweighed tradition. It was 1946 in Hanoi, and Nguyen Van Giang, a bartender at the Sofitel Legend Metropole — then an elegant French colonial residence — faced empty shelves. Coffee was plentiful; Vietnam, though not yet the global giant it would become, had inherited coffee cultivation from the French in the Central Highlands. But fresh milk was nowhere to be found. And without milk, there was no café au lait for European guests who demanded it every morning.

Giang glanced at the kitchen, spotted the eggs — always available, even in the hardest times — and thought: why not try? He beat an egg yolk with sugar and condensed milk, added a touch of butter, until he achieved a thick, velvety cream. He poured it over a cup of hot, bitter Robusta coffee, served in a glass. The result was astonishing: not a compromise, but a revelation. That golden foam softened the bitterness of the coffee, transforming it into something new, almost dessert-like. At first the guests were surprised, then intrigued, and finally enchanted.

Thus, in the heart of a war-torn city, one of Southeast Asia’s most iconic drinks was born. Giang left the hotel and opened Café Giang, at 39 Nguyen Huu Huan Street. It still stands today, on the second floor of a modest building, with worn walls and windows open to the city. No flashy signs are needed: just follow the aroma in the air, the sound of egg yolks being whisked by hand, and the waiters rushing up and down with steaming trays. Giang’s son, Tri Hoa Nguyen, still prepares the coffee using the original recipe, with a secret ingredient never revealed. Perhaps a touch of brandy, perhaps a special honey. Or perhaps it’s just time itself, turning necessity into legend.

I wasn’t looking for this drink. I didn’t even know it existed. After a bowl of phở, sitting on a chair far too low, I just wanted a coffee. A real coffee. For us Italians, it’s a matter of principle: coffee is not a break, it’s a ritual, a pleasure.

The author with a good cup of egg coffee

And yet, too often while traveling I’ve had to give it up. In many countries it’s too long, watered down, lukewarm. Or it’s instant — that gray broth “not even fit for dogs.” So I learned to make do, reluctantly, with whatever was available. But in Hanoi, things were different. On the menu I read simply cà phê trứng. I asked what it was, hesitated: a raw egg in coffee? It could have been a gastronomic nightmare, if I hadn’t already tasted something similar in Bologna. Then I thought: if you’ve come all this way to explore local cuisine, you can’t stop at the threshold of taste. You must cross it.

The first cup arrived hot, steaming, with that yellow cream trembling slightly. I stirred it slowly with a spoon, watching the dark coffee rise to the surface. Then I tasted. A cautious sip, and immediately I understood: it wasn’t just coffee, it wasn’t dessert, it wasn’t liquid or solid. It was a unique balance of bitter and sweet, warmth and creaminess. It recalled a liquid tiramisù, a coffee zabaglione, a crème brûlée you could drink. But most of all, it was good. Deep. Comforting.

Since then, every time I’ve returned to Hanoi, egg coffee has been a ritual I never miss. A mandatory stop was Ciao Coffee, connected to the tour operator Ciao Travel, which until my last visit stood just beyond Chuong Gate. Despite its Italian-sounding name, it was a purely Vietnamese place, where skilled hands offered true delights to my palate.

various qualities of coffee you. an find in Hanoi

Watching Ms. Nhung whisk an egg yolk, even now with the help of an electric mixer — an inevitable concession to modern times — remains a gesture of resistance against the rush. It’s a ritual, slow and meditative. And as I wait, I think about the strange destiny of food: how often what is born from scarcity becomes a symbol of abundance.

Today, the tour operator I collaborate with has moved about a kilometer away and closed its restaurant section. But Ms. Nhung is still there, and she promised me that every time I return to Hanoi, she’ll prepare her unmistakable, exquisite egg coffee.

Coffee, after all, is a story of adaptation, ingenuity, and dignity. It’s proof that when what you think is essential is missing, you can create something new, even better. It’s no coincidence that Vietnam, now one of the world’s top three producers, is home to such a unique specialty. Here, coffee is not a borrowed culture but a living part of national identity.

antichi macina caffè

Condensed milk, another symbol of this tradition, was introduced by the French during World War I to compensate for the lack of fresh milk. The Vietnamese adopted it and made it their own: today a simple cà phê sữa means black coffee, brewed with a phin filter, blended with a generous spoonful of condensed milk.

But cà phê trứng goes beyond. It’s a poetic evolution of the same principle: turning what you have into something memorable. Today, there are versions with coconut milk, cocoa, or served cold with ice. I myself tried to make it at home. I followed every step of Ms. Nhung’s ritual. Decent, yes. But it’s not the same. It lacked the trained, skilled hand. It lacked the air of Hanoi, the noise of traffic, the feeling of being in a place where time moves differently. It lacked the barista who looks at you and smiles, as if knowing you’ve just crossed an invisible border.

Today, egg coffee is no longer just Hanoi’s treasure: you’ll find it in Saigon, Hue, Hoi An. In trendy cafés it comes in elegant glasses, ready for Instagram. But the heart remains in the old quarter, where someone walks in every day, looks at the cup with suspicion, and then says: “It’s good. I don’t know what it is, but it’s good.”

vietnamese egg coffee

And that, perhaps, is the true miracle of cà phê trứng: it doesn’t win you over immediately; it challenges you. But once you try it, you realize it’s not the flavor that changes you, but the very idea of coffee. That doesn’t have to be bitter, quick, and functional. It can be soft, slow, and complex. It can be a moment you don’t fully understand, but one that feels right.

Because sometimes, the most authentic pleasure doesn’t come from what you know, but from what you don’t expect.

Photos by Guglielmo Zanchi (Pluto)

Click HERE and enjoy our video on Vietnamese egg coffee!!

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A Lesser-Known Market

If this isn’t your first time in Bangkok, you’ve probably already visited the city’s most famous landmarks, such as the Royal Palace, Lumphini Park, and Jim Thompson‘s House; you’ve also likely taken the Chao Phraya River ferry and shopped at the modern malls downtown. You may have visited Chatuchak Market, the biggest in town, and enjoyed a drink at one of the premium rooftop bars such as Vertigo, Lebua, or Marriott The Surawongse, while admiring stunning views of the city at night.

However, if you still have some time to spend in the city and want to see something more unusual that mostly draws locals, it’s worth learning about one of Bangkok’s lesser-known markets. I doubt you’ve ever heard of it, despite its location in a popular tourist zone, close to the Royal Palace and Wat Pho. It’s called The Amulet Market.

Thailand is (primarily) a Buddhist country, and amulets play an important role in its culture and religion. The Amulet Market is a haven for Buddhists, monks, and collectors alike, gathering in this open bazaar in search of everything from pricey antiques to everyday talismans that can be worn around the neck for good luck.

Directions

The Amulet Market is located on Maharaj Road, behind Wat Mahathat Temple, not far from the Grand Palace and the Chao Phraya riverbanks. Ferries, such as the Chao Phraya Express, stop at Chang Pier, Maharaj Pier, and Phra Chan Tai Pier, from where it’s only a short walk to reach the bustling market.

Some stalls are along the main road (Maharaj Road), but the most interesting part of the market is down an alley labeled “Trok Maha That,” so keep your eyes peeled for the sign and turn down the alley.
The Amulet Market is also marked on Google Maps, so once you’ve arrived in the area, you can easily ask your phone for directions.

If you’re traveling around Bangkok by BTS, get off at BTS National Stadium, take Exit 2, then walk to the bus stop for bus 47. The Royal Palace is about a 30-minute drive away.

Amulets and Buddha Sculptures

As I mentioned earlier, the Amulet Market is near the Royal Palace, in one of Bangkok’s most visited areas. However, it took me several trips and years before I finally made it there—previously, I always lacked the time or couldn’t locate it.

I’m certain I passed down that particular soi (narrow lane) at least once before, but the market must have been closed that day.
Once you find the right alley, however, it’s hard to miss: numerous kiosks sell thousands of precious amulets, “charged” with enchantments and prayers for protection, as well as hundreds of Buddhist and Hindu figurines, sculptures, and other religious artifacts.

It’s a neighborhood market that draws local citizens shopping for their collections and daily rituals, as well as monks buying for their temples. It has all the charm and enchantment you could wish for in a foreign market. However, not all vendors are pleased with tourists taking photos and videos, so you’ll see many “No Photography” signs and some unfriendly shopkeepers.

Fortunately, most salespeople are patient and polite; a few can even provide information about their amulets in English. The merchant I approached first was delighted by my interest and questions, and we ended up talking for a while. I purchased a couple of small amulets for Buddhist friends and family.

Different Degrees of Protection

From that friendly vendor, I learned that the power of each amulet varies: some are believed to ward off spiritual demons, ghosts, and imbalance; others are supposed to protect owners from physical threats such as road accidents, gunfire, and more. That’s why every visitor to the Amulet Market has a specific goal in mind—they’re hoping to find a talisman that will bring them exactly what they seek, whether it’s a blessing for their business or new home, a long-desired child, or the winning lottery ticket.

Bangkok Amulet Market

Amulets can be in the shape of medallions, Buddha statuettes, or other Hindu or Buddhist deities. They can be made of various materials, including wood, clay, stone, brass, or even human body parts (such as hair or bones of a deceased monk). It’s best not to haggle too much on the price unless you’re quite certain of what you’re buying. Some amulets date back centuries and are extremely valuable; most, however, are mass-produced, and distinguishing the authentic from the fake requires a trained eye.

My suggestion is to pay the price you’re willing to pay for a souvenir: it can range from as little as 10 Thai baht to several thousand, depending on how much faith or money you have! Just observing customers consulting merchants to identify the talisman that will work its magic and grant their wishes makes the Amulet Market a fascinating place to visit—even if you’re not planning to buy any talismans to bring home.

Photos by Guglielmo Zanchi (Pluto)

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Promoting Local Artisans and Sustainable Travel in Asia

INNSiDE by Meliá Bangkok Sukhumvit has launched ‘The GALLERY,’ a vibrant showcase dedicated to supporting talented Thai designers, artists, and craftspeople. Situated on the 32nd floor of the hotel, adjacent to the reception, this social enterprise celebrates Thailand’s rich cultural heritage while promoting sustainable livelihoods.

A Space Where Creativity Meets Conscience

All profits support scholarships for art and design students, helping communities and preserving Thai culture and skills from over 302 communities nationwide

Rooted in the philosophy of “Giving Art, Art of Giving,” The GALLERY connects local artisans with a global audience. All profits are directed towards scholarships for art and design students, helping communities in need and preserving traditional crafts that are vital to Thailand’s cultural identity. This initiative aligns with Thailand’s broader efforts to safeguard indigenous skills across over 302 communities nationwide, many of which surround properties owned by Asset World Corp Public Company Limited (AWC), the parent company of INNSiDE.

Unique Artisanal Products Supporting Thai Communities

The GALLERY offers a curated selection of meaningful products including handwoven textiles, ceramics, jewelry, and children’s toys. Many items come with “Meet the Artist” stories, providing insight into the craftsmanship and cultural significance behind each piece.

Centered on the idea of Giving Art, Art of Giving, this social enterprise is located on the 32nd floor of the hotel, next to the reception

For example, DAWOOD Voyage Travel Souvenirs crafts intricate tuk-tuk models and Grand Palace fridge magnets using sustainable wood, offering authentic keepsakes of Thailand’s iconic landmarks. Meanwhile, Ruen Klin produces eco-friendly, durable woven flower garlands from dried water hyacinth—an innovative and environmentally responsible alternative to plastic.

A Mission for a Better Future in Travel and Asia

Established by AWC, The GALLERY embodies the vision of “Building a Better Future,” supporting Thailand’s artisans and aligning with the United Nations Sustainable Development Goal 8. This goal promotes sustained, inclusive, and sustainable economic growth, full employment, and decent work for all.

In addition to Bangkok, AWC has expanded The GALLERY to 18 other hotels, including Meliá Chiang Mai, further amplifying the positive impact of this initiative across Asia’s vibrant hospitality landscape.

Experience Bangkok’s Premier Lifestyle Hotel

The GALLERY was created by AWC, the owner of INNSiDE Bangkok Sukhumvit, to highlight the work of Thai artisans

The INNSiDE Bangkok Sukhumvit hotel itself offers a modern, stylish stay in Bangkok’s emerging On Nut neighborhood. With 208 rooms inspired by the city’s landmarks, guests can enjoy facilities such as a rooftop transparent swimming pool, a rooftop tapas bar, co-working spaces, and versatile meeting rooms—perfect for travelers seeking a blend of leisure and productivity.

Book Your Stay and Support Thai Art

To experience the cultural richness of Thailand and support local artisans through The GALLERY, visit Melia.com, email reservation.innside.sukhumvit@melia.com, or call +66 2 340 5499. Embark on a journey that combines luxury travel with meaningful cultural preservation in Asia.

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There is a city that welcomes you not with order, but with a loud embrace full of sounds, smells, and intertwined movements. Hanoi is like that: it never reveals itself in silence. The first impression is a symphony of honking motorbikes, constant chatter in narrow alleys, the smell of broth boiling on gas stoves along the sidewalks, and the thin smoke of nighttime barbecues rising among the trees. It’s not chaos; it’s life—a fast-flowing life, woven with ancient gestures, as if time here isn’t linear but circular.

Wandering Through the Old Quarter

Walking through the Old Quarter, where streets are named after the goods once sold there — Silk Street, Iron Street, Hat Street — you feel like moving inside a living map. This neighborhood, over a thousand years old, was designed as a vibrant commercial organism, a maze of narrow streets and tube-shaped houses built to maximize space and reduce street-front taxes. These are called tube houses, where the front is for work and trade, the back for living, and hidden between thin walls, there’s a courtyard letting in light and rain. Every corner tells a story: a hidden temple behind a fruit stand, an old man repairing fountain pens, a woman serving phở from a pot on the ground, with precise gestures like a ritual. The buildings are often tall and narrow, built during the French period, with rusted balconies and colorful curtains fluttering in the warm wind. They seem more like people—each with its own story, breath, and way of existence.

The Origins of Hanoi

It all began in 1010 when King Lý Thái Tổ decided to move the capital to Thăng Long, the “Flying Dragon City,” choosing a strategic location between rivers and trade routes. Since then, the city’s heart developed into two parts: the Imperial Citadel, enclosed within walls and symbolizing imperial power, and the bustling trading city, open and lively, meant for exchange. Over the centuries, artisans from nearby villages moved here, bringing crafts and traditions. Every street became a district of workshops, governed by a guild, with a temple dedicated to the guardian spirit of the trade. They were called the “36 Guilds of Arts,” though today many more exist, and the number has become more of a symbol than an exact figure.

Pluto and Alis on a traditional rikshaw

In the 17th century, Chinese merchants brought new momentum to the economy, and the neighborhood grew and adapted. Then, at the end of the 19th century, the French arrived. They changed the city’s face: widening streets, draining lakes, demolishing gates that separated districts, erasing the village-like charm that had persisted for centuries. Yet, they couldn’t break the soul of the place. Colonial facades appeared—arches, rectangular windows, pediments—but behind, in interior courtyards, life went on just as before.

Even during wartime, the Old Quarter persisted. In the 1960s, with the policy of collective housing, many homes were nationalized and divided among large families. Courtyards filled with makeshift structures, spaces grew narrower, but the community endured. After 1986, with the Đổi Mới reform, the push towards the market revived the neighborhood’s original spirit: people opened new shops, revitalized their crafts, and took control of their future. Today, amidst tall buildings and tangled wires, the neighborhood’s identity still survives: the urban fabric, hidden temples, tube houses, artisans’ streets. It’s a fragile but resilient balance.

Hoan Kiem: Lake of the Returned Sword

In the midst of all this is Hoan Kiem, the Lake of the Returned Sword. An oasis of calm, almost detached from the world. Legend tells that an emperor received a magical sword in a dream from a turtle god to free the country from Chinese invaders. After victory, while sailing on the lake, a giant golden turtle emerged from the waters and took back the sword. Since then, the lake bears that name, and the tower on an island at its center seems to guard a collective memory that needs no words. In the evening, as lights turn on and young people sit on the steps chatting, the lake reflects the city like a tired yet proud mirror.

The Temple of Literature and Millenary Culture

A short distance away, the Temple of Literature opens into a series of peaceful courtyards, like a deep breath after the bustle. Founded in 1070 and dedicated to Confucius, it housed Vietnam’s first university. Stone steles beneath trees bear the names of distinguished students from centuries past, carved carefully, as if to say knowledge deserves remembrance. Even today, students in school uniforms burn incense at altars, praying for good exams. They don’t seem like tourists—they’re part of the place, as if the past is just another room in the same building.

Ho Chi Minh’s Mausoleum 

Hanoi cultural and historical city

Further north, the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum rises with a solemn architecture inspired by Eastern European monuments. Here, “Uncle Ho,” as he is affectionately called, rests in a glass coffin, wrapped in the simplicity that defined him in life. Surrounding gardens are spacious and orderly, and just beyond is the stilt house where he lived—a humble, functional dwelling. No luxury, no exaggerated celebration. Everything speaks of sobriety, almost resistance to grandeur. Yet, his figure continues to walk the city’s streets, in history books, and in guidebooks.

Hanoi’s Flavors and Surprises

But Hanoi isn’t just history. It’s also taste, and sometimes surprise. In a corner of the Old Quarter, follow the line of people standing in front of a small table to discover a famous spot known only to those who seek. Here, the cà phê trứng — egg coffee — is born, a seemingly contradictory drink: whipped egg yolk with condensed milk placed on a strong, bitter Robusta espresso. You try it hesitantly, then understand: it’s neither sweet nor salty nor liquid nor solid. It’s a balance—a velvety cream softening the bitterness, warming without heaviness. You drink slowly, sitting on a plastic chair amid the bustling traffic. It’s a moment of peace won.

And then there’s the food. Always, everywhere. Phở, the noodle soup with clear broth and thin slices of meat, served at dawn or midnight. Bún chả, cold noodles with grilled pork and sweet-sour sauce. Bánh mì, crispy bread stuffed with pâté, vegetables, and spices, bought for a few cents and eaten while walking. In Hanoi, eating isn’t separate from life—it’s life itself, seasoned with coriander, lime, and chili.

In the evening, in a small theater with a wooden stage, you can watch a water puppet show. Wooden figures dance on a pond’s surface, moved by hidden sticks beneath the water’s surface. They tell stories of plowing, battles, deities, and talking animals. This ancient art, born in lakeside villages, feels modern and poetic. Spectators laugh, applaud, children gaze in wonder. No one considers it folklore; it’s just a well-told story.

Hanoi doesn’t try to please everyone. It’s not as elegant as Kyoto or as efficient as Singapore. It’s irregular, sometimes uncomfortable, often noisy. Yet, after a few days, it starts to feel familiar. Its beauty isn’t in order but in vitality—its ability to hold sacred and ordinary, past and present, noise and silence. It’s a city that reveals itself slowly—through a smile, a cold beer at sunset, a bite of something new that already feels like yours.

Photos by Guglielmo Zanchi (Pluto)

The post Hanoi: A City of Roaring Embrace appeared first on Asian Itinerary.

I am sure you would never imagine that Yogyakarta, which I have always considered a secondary destination in Indonesia, is in fact a city capable of offering an attentive visitor cultural and historical insights of great value. Here, culture and history are not confined within books or tourist guides but take shape in the architecture of temples declared UNESCO World Heritage Sites, such as Borobudur and Prambanan, in the sacred enclosure of the Sultanate that still governs the province today, and in popular artistic manifestations that animate the city.

Malioboro Street, l’arteria più celebre e vissuta di Yogyakarta

And it is precisely in the center of Yogyakarta that this complex and layered identity becomes immediately perceptible. Urban life flows at its own pace, made up of continuous balances between tradition and everyday life. Along Malioboro Street, the most famous and frequented artery, there are shops, stalls, carts, and small informal spaces that tell an authentic and deeply popular Yogyakarta. Not a commercial street, but a meeting and observation place, where the traveler catches fragments of real life.

Walking on Malioboro means immersing oneself in an atmosphere made of sounds, colors, and repeated gestures, where the past is not staged but simply lived. It is here that the most accessible face of the city offers itself without filters, naturally preparing for the discovery of its most symbolic places and the stories that lead from the urban heart to the Kraton and, a little further, to the great temples of the Javanese plain.

Welcome, then, to Yogyakarta, “Jogja” for friends, which I do not believe is an exaggeration to define as the soul of the island of Java.

In my opinion, it even surpasses the capital Jakarta, which, when I visited it, did not leave me particular emotions and which, among other things, will be replaced by Nusantara, the new capital under construction on Borneo Island, whose name recalls the idea of a “land among the islands.”

But the role of Yogyakarta goes beyond its cultural dimension. Thanks to the wisdom and commitment of its Sultan, the city played a fundamental role in the birth of the Indonesian Republic, to the point of being awarded, unique among the provinces of the country, the status of Sultanate.

Yogyakarta turismo culturale

The origins of this Sultanate date back to 1755, following a treaty mediated by the Dutch East India Company. Prince Mangkubumi became the first Sultan of Yogyakarta with the title of Hamengkubuwono I and founded the city together with the Kraton, destined to become its symbolic center.

In the period following World War II, while Indonesia fought for independence, Sultan Hamengkubuwono IX made a decisive choice, aligning his people and resources alongside the young Indonesian state. Yogyakarta thus became the de facto capital of the emerging republic during the most delicate years of the conflict, a role that earned it official recognition of its special status and the confirmation of the Sultan as hereditary governor.

The Sultanate of Yogyakarta still represents today a unique form of integration between traditional authority and republican administration, widely accepted at the national level and deeply felt locally as a pillar of the historical and cultural identity of the province.

Kraton

The Kraton, the royal palace of Yogyakarta, represents the symbolic and cultural heart of the city. Passing through its gates means entering a space where daily life and tradition intertwine following ancient rhythms. Guards in traditional uniforms guard courtyards and pavilions, while gamelan music and measured movements of dancers recall a still-practiced ceremonial.

Prambanan is one of the most spectacular Hindu temple complexes in Southeast Asia.

We are not talking about a simple historical site because the Kraton is a lived place, a religious and cultural center where refined arts such as Javanese classical dance, music, and court etiquette are passed down. Inside, precious manuscripts in ancient Javanese characters are preserved, testimony to a deeply rooted literary and philosophical tradition. Visiting the Kraton thus offers an essential key to understanding the identity of Yogyakarta and the journey toward the surrounding great temples.

Prambanan

Leaving Yogyakarta, the landscape opens up and the city gradually gives way to the plain. It is here that Prambanan reveals itself with its unmistakable silhouette, a set of elongated towers that create one of the most spectacular Hindu complexes in Southeast Asia. Dedicated to the Trimurti — Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva — Prambanan tells of an era in which power and sacred dimension were deeply intertwined.

Borobudur, the largest Buddhist monument in the world

The bas-reliefs decorating the temples narrate episodes from the Ramayana with a richness of details that give movement and depth to the figures, inviting the visitor to read the stone as a timeless story.

Borobudur

Continuing westward, the journey leads to Borobudur, the largest Buddhist monument in the world and one of Indonesia’s most powerful symbols. Unlike the verticality of Prambanan, Borobudur develops as an ascensional path, designed to be traversed slowly, also because the climb is tiring.

The bas-reliefs decorating its terraces tell of the life of the Buddha and his teachings, transforming the ascent into a meditative experience. Reaching the summit, silence and the vastness of the landscape offer a moment of contemplation that represents the culmination of the spiritual journey of the Yogyakarta area.

Mendut

The Mendut temple

Ideally concluding this itinerary is the Mendut temple, more intimate and less monumental, but no less significant. Its intimate atmosphere invites a silent and reflective visit, offering a more human and meditative dimension after the grandeur of the larger complexes.

Visiting Mendut concludes the journey through the sacred sites surrounding Yogyakarta, leaving the visitor with the sensation of having crossed a territory where spirituality, history, and culture follow one another naturally.

Yogyakarta and its temples thus tell a journey that goes beyond simple cultural visit. From the living heart of the Kraton to the great sacred complexes of the Javanese plain, each stage helps unveil a land where history, faith, and identity have layered over time, leaving the memory of a profound and harmonious experience.

Photos by Guglielmo Zanchi (Pluto)

Here you can watch the video about Yogyakarta by FantasiaAsia:

The post Yogyakarta: The Cultural and Spiritual Heart of Java appeared first on Asian Itinerary.

Gamelan is one of the most fascinating and representative aspects of Indonesia’s musical culture, especially on the islands of Java and Bali. This musical tradition, rich in history and spirituality, offers a unique experience that captures the heart of anyone lucky enough to hear it live. In this article, you’ll discover what makes Gamelan from Java and Bali so special, the differences between the two traditions, and why this music deserves a prominent place in your Indonesian travel itinerary.

What is Gamelan?

The term “Gamelan” refers to a set of traditional musical instruments, mainly percussion, consisting of gongs, metallophones, xylophones, bells, and other brass and bronze instruments. This music, which can be sacred or secular, is performed in ensembles of various sizes, often accompanying religious ceremonies, cultural rituals, dances, and theatrical performances. Its unique sound, characterized by rich, resonant, and hypnotic tones, creates an atmosphere of spirituality and meditation.

Gamelan of Java

Javanese Gamelan, also known as “Gamelan Jawa,” is one of the oldest and most complex in the country. It features instruments such as the gong ageng (large gong), the gender (keyboard metallophone), the bonang (series of bells), and the kendang (drum). Javanese music is deeply rooted in the island’s religious and cultural traditions, often associated with Hindu and Buddhist ceremonies, traditional dances, and theatrical performances like wayang kulit (shadow puppets).

Javanese Gamelan is distinguished by its intricate structure and tightly synchronized rhythms, creating a rich tapestry of nuances and dynamics. The music is often accompanied by symbolic movements and dances that tell mythological stories, making each performance a truly spiritual experience.

Gamelan of Bali

Balinese Gamelan, on the other hand, is known for its vibrant energy, fast rhythms, and more aggressive melodies compared to Java’s. In Bali, Gamelan is closely tied to religious celebrations, purification rituals, and public events such as festivals and traditional dances. Main instruments include the gangsa (metallophone), kendang, bells, and other percussion instruments.

One of the defining features of Balinese Gamelan is its role in sacred dances like Barong and Legong, accompanied by lively and engaging music. Balinese music often features improvisations and spontaneous variations, reflecting the island’s energetic and spiritual essence.

Differences Between Javanese and Balinese Gamelan

Although both types of Gamelan share instruments and basic characteristics, there are key differences:

• Sound and rhythm: Javanese Gamelan tends to have a softer tone, with slower, more structured melodies, while Balinese Gamelan is faster, more aggressive, and dynamic.
• Usage: Javanese Gamelan is often linked to religious ceremonies and formal theatrical performances, while Balinese Gamelan is more lively, used in festivals and public celebrations.
• Instruments: Both traditions use similar instruments, but playing techniques and arrangements differ, resulting in unique and recognizable sounds.

Why Listen to Gamelan During Your Trip to Indonesia?

Watching a Gamelan performance from Java or Bali is an unmissable experience for visitors to these stunning islands. Traditional music offers a deep immersion into Indonesia’s cultural, religious, and artistic roots, providing insight into its ancient traditions. Many tourist spots and temples host public or private concerts, perfect opportunities to discover and appreciate this unique art form.

Conclusion

Java and Bali’s Gamelan represent an invaluable cultural heritage capable of conveying emotion and spirituality through ancient sounds. Whether you’re passionate about music, culture, or spirituality, witnessing a Gamelan performance will undoubtedly be a memorable highlight of your Indonesian journey. Don’t miss the chance to explore this captivating musical tradition and let yourself be transported by its deep, ancient melodies.

The post The Magical World of Gamelan in Java and Bali appeared first on Asian Itinerary.

A new campaign honors Thai cultural identity by encouraging people worldwide to wear Chud Thai Phra Ratchaniyom, the official national dress of Thailand. Under the theme Chud Thai: Dressing the Nation in Heritage, this initiative invites all Thais to embrace tradition and showcase their pride through this elegant attire.

This movement aims to reconnect generations with the rich symbolism and craftsmanship of the eight official Thai dress styles — reaffirming traditional clothing as a vibrant expression of Thai refinement, unity, and national pride on the world stage.

The Eight Official Thai Dress Styles

Originating in 1960 during a historic state visit by King Bhumibol Adulyadej and Queen Sirikit to the U.S. and Europe, these styles were created to blend traditional Thai elegance with international diplomatic standards. Queen Sirikit’s deep exploration of Thailand’s royal court costumes led to the creation of these refined designs, which later became the official Phra Ratchaniyom (Royal Preference) for women. Each style is linked to a historic palace or throne hall and carries profound cultural significance.

Today, the Queen Sirikit Museum of Textiles brings this heritage to life with its current exhibition, Chud Thai: Dressing the Nation in Heritage. Displayed in Gallery 1 within the Royal Palace, visitors can admire authentic garments, some of which have never been publicly exhibited before, including pieces once worn by Queen Sirikit herself. These creations are presented with reverence and meticulous care.

A Personal and Cultural Statement

The exhibition’s opening on August 15, 2025, features a heartfelt message emphasizing the importance of wearing Chud Thai with pride and respect:

“I invite Thai women of all ages to wear the eight styles of Chud Thai Phra Ratchaniyom with confidence and dignity. Wear them correctly, embodying grace and pride as a natural part of our identity. Let this be a tribute to Her Majesty the Queen Mother — our first designer and stylist — whose visionary spirit created these timeless expressions of Thai-ness.”

This message highlights that Chud Thai is more than fashion — it’s a gesture of cultural respect and a tribute to the Queen Mother’s role in shaping Thailand’s national identity through design.

Understanding the Eight Styles of Chud Thai Phra Ratchaniyom

Each style reflects a different level of formality, offering versatile options for ceremonial and social occasions:

• Thai Ruean Ton: Named after the teak houses of Dusit Palace, this informal style features a blouse with three-quarter sleeves and a simple or patterned ankle-length skirt, crafted from silk or cotton — ideal for everyday wear.
• Thai Chitralada: Named after the royal residence, this formal daytime outfit includes a high-collared silk jacket with long sleeves paired with a plain silk or brocade skirt.
• Thai Amarin: An evening variation of Chitralada, featuring a richly brocaded skirt combined with a silk jacket, named after the Amarin Winitchai Throne Hall.
• Thai Boromphiman: A one-piece silk dress with metallic brocade, long sleeves, and a stand-up collar. Its front pleats echo 19th-century court fashion, suitable for formal events.
• Thai Dusit: Named after Dusit Maha Prasat Throne Hall, this formal evening dress combines gold brocade and embroidery with a Western-style evening silhouette.
• Thai Chakri: Recognized for its pleated brocade skirt and traditional shoulder cloth, often worn at weddings and royal ceremonies, named after Chakri Maha Prasat Throne Hall.
• Thai Siwalai: Worn at high royal occasions, this style features a brocade bodice attached to a matching pleated skirt, complemented by an elegant shoulder cloth.
• Thai Chakkraphat: The most regal style, reserved for state banquets and royal ceremonies, with a strapless bodice covered by two embroidered shoulder cloths and a brocade skirt.

While rooted in tradition, each style allows personal interpretation through fabric choices, colors, and accessories—ranging from understated elegance to full ceremonial grandeur. The versatility of Chud Thai empowers every Thai woman to express her heritage authentically.

Visit the Queen Sirikit Museum of Textiles

Open daily from 9:00 AM to 4:30 PM (last entry at 3:30 PM), with Saturday closing at 4:00 PM, the museum showcases this rich sartorial heritage. For more information, visit qsmtthailand.org or royalgrandpalace.th or follow @ qsmtthailand on Facebook.

Wearing Chud Thai is more than a fashion statement — it’s a living act of pride, unity, and cultural identity.

This movement invites all Thai people to honor their traditions and proudly display their cultural heritage on the world stage, celebrating Thailand’s enduring elegance and craftsmanship.

The post Thai Heritage: The Timeless Chud Thai Styles appeared first on Asian Itinerary.

There is a way of knowing Vietnam that doesn’t come from history books or travel guides. It comes from standing at the edge of Hoan Kiem Lake in Hanoi, watching the morning mist rise like breath from the water, and feeling that something ancient is still awake beneath the surface. This is a country where myths are not stories of the past, but living threads woven into the present — carried in temple names, whispered in alleyways, reflected in the shape of mountains and the flow of rivers.

Le Loi, the sword and the turtle

The most famous legend begins with a king, Le Loi, who rose as a peasant to lead a rebellion against Chinese occupation in the 15th century. According to the tale, he was given a magical sword by a golden turtle god, who emerged from these very waters. The blade, discovered by a fisherman named Le Than after it appeared in his net three times, bore the inscription “Thuan Thien” — “As Heaven Wills.” With this weapon, Le Loi defeated his enemies and brought peace to the land. Ten years later, as he sailed across the lake once more, the same divine turtle surfaced and reclaimed the sword. From that day on, the lake became known as Hoan Kiem, “Lake of the Returned Sword,” and the island temple Ngoc Son stands as a quiet witness to that moment between mortal and divine.

But the story doesn’t end there. It echoes in the founding of Hanoi itself. Before it bore that name, the city was called Thang Long — “Ascending Dragon” — a title born from another vision. King Ly Thai To, before choosing this place as his capital, saw a dragon soar into the sky from the banks of the Red River. He took it as a sign from the heavens. And so, on this sacred ground, he built a new beginning for the nation. Even today, the dragon remains a symbol of protection, of destiny, of a people rising through hardship.

Trân Vũ, the God of the North, while defeating the snake-chicken demon by luring it into a swamp.

Yet the dragon does not rule alone. In Vietnamese cosmology, balance is everything. So while the dragon belongs to the sea, the mountain is home to the fairy. And from their union comes one of the most powerful origin myths of the Vietnamese people: the legend of the Dragon Lord and the Fairy Lady (Long Quân và Âu Cơ). She was a celestial being from the highlands; he, a deity of the deep waters. When they fell in love, she gave birth to a hundred eggs, each hatching a son. But their worlds could not remain united. So the family parted: fifty sons followed their mother into the mountains, becoming the ancestors of farmers and warriors. The other fifty went with their father into the sea, becoming fishermen and seafarers. Since then, it is said that every Vietnamese carries both bloodlines — the spirit of the dragon and the soul of the fairy. This duality explains their resilience, their connection to both earth and ocean, their ability to endure storms, whether natural or human-made.

These myths live in places. In the Old Quarter of Hanoi, the Bach Ma Temple guards a story of divine guidance. When King Ly Cong Uan decided to move the capital to Thang Long, his builders were plagued by collapsing walls and failed foundations. In a dream, a white horse appeared, galloping through the city, marking the sacred perimeter where construction could succeed. Where the horse stopped, the temple was built — Bach Ma, the White Horse — and its spirit is believed to still protect the city from harm.

King Lý Thái Tổ and the dragon

Nearby, at Quan Thanh Temple, another battle between order and chaos is remembered. Here, Tran Vu, the God of the North, fought a monstrous serpent-cock demon that terrorized the land. Using wisdom over force, Tran Vu lured the creature into a swamp and drowned it. His bronze statue, centuries old, stands with sword raised, the serpent beneath his feet — a guardian against darkness. Devotees still come to pray for protection, especially before long journeys or difficult decisions.

Even West Lake (Hồ Tây) holds its own tale. Once haunted by a fearsome demon, it was only when a brave warrior, Trinh Cong Son, confronted and defeated the beast that peace returned. The demon, in its final moments, transformed into a small turtle and vanished into the depths. Locals say its spirit remains, watching over the lake, reminding all that even in beauty, mystery persists.

And yet, not all legends are gentle. Outside Hanoi, near Hue, lies the abandoned Thuy Tien Park, once meant as a tourist attraction, now a crumbling relic half-swallowed by jungle. A local myth claims the park was cursed — that workers died during construction, that strange lights flicker at night, and that those who enter after dark feel an unseen presence. Whether true or not, the story has taken root, turning a failed project into a modern ghost tale. Nature reclaims what ambition abandons, and in the silence of its broken dragon-shaped pavilion, one senses how easily wonder turns to unease.

Trinh Cong Son confronts the demon, who then transforms into a small turtle.

Walking through Hanoi, you realize that Vietnam does not separate myth from reality. Temples sit beside noodle stalls, incense burns next to motorbikes, and dragons are carved into the rooftops of modern buildings. These stories are not entertainment. They are maps — of identity, of survival, of a culture that has lived through invasion, war, and change, yet never stopped telling itself who it is.

One evening, sipping cà phê trứng — egg coffee — at a plastic table by the lake, I thought about how much this drink resembles the myths themselves. On paper, it makes no sense: a yolk whipped with sugar and condensed milk, floating over bitter Robusta brew. Yet together, they create harmony. Born from scarcity, refined into art. Like the turtle returning the sword, like the dragon taking flight — it is proof that from necessity, beauty can emerge.

In Vietnam, the past doesn’t stay buried. It swims just below the surface, waiting to be seen.

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