Saigon, savoured slowly: a family travel story of coffee, river light and little hands
A gentle arrival on Book Street
Our first morning began quietly on Book Street. We didn’t rush or plan; we simply walked under the trees, browsed spines, and let the city introduce itself at a gentle volume—scooters in the distance, the clink of cups, a couple sharing a paperback on a bench. Then we found a small stall ladling Hủ Tiếu Nam Vang: a clear, fragrant pork broth with springy noodles, slices of pork, a spoon of minced pork, a prawn, perhaps a quail egg, and bright chives on top. We squeezed lime, added a little chilli, tore herbs, and shared spoonfuls with our toddler. It was the kind of bowl you finish slowly, and it set the tone for the trip—Saigon felt generous, unhurried, and perfectly paced for families.
Nguyen Hue at dusk & the Café Apartment
We decided on one anchor each day and left the rest for discovery. That first afternoon we kept to Nguyen Hue, the walking street that turns into a stage after dusk. Our son counted pigeons and chased bubbles, and we looked up at the balconies of the Café Apartment, a mid-century block stacked with tiny cafés and pocket-sized boutiques.
You can sit al fresco almost anywhere in Vietnam—on a quiet side street, outside a neighbourhood bakery, even a low plastic stool in an alley—but Café Apartment is the city’s most popular balcony box. We found a terrace, ordered coconut coffee and watched the lights blink on along the boulevard. For an hour we didn’t need an agenda.
Big sights, small effort
Another day, we climbed aboard the open-top sightseeing bus and let Saigon reveal itself. It was a small luxury: wind in our hair, skyline unfolding, history in our headphones, and only two short hop-offs for photos and snacks. With a toddler, the bus felt like a moving veranda—everything to see, nowhere to rush.
Coffee lessons & an unhurried lunch
The city fed us well and taught us too. We booked a coffee class and learned four Vietnamese styles—classic phin, coconut, salted-cream and egg. Our son whisked while we measured; he took the “foam captain” role very seriously. I loved that the lesson became a ritual we could bring home. Later we wandered into Little Hanoi Café, a soft northern accent in the south, where charcoal and herbs arrived in bowls sized for sharing. Lunch was unhurried, the room calm, the kind of place where you can sit a little longer without anyone watching the clock.
Night streets & river light
Some nights we did nothing more than walk and look. Street food in Saigon is theatre: oil sizzling in pans, skewers bright with glaze, griddles wearing their own patina of stories. We grazed lightly—one skewer here, a pandan waffle there—choosing reputable, busy stalls and heading back before the energy tipped from lively to loud. On another evening we let the river carry us. The Indochina dinner-cruise buffet gave us an easy chair, a plate we could curate for a cautious toddler and curious parents, gentle music, and the simple pleasure of city lights sliding past without traffic or timetables.
Reassuring favourites: MICHELIN bun chả, Pizza 4P’s & a quiet beer
We made time for a MICHELIN-Guide reassurance as well. Bếp Mẹ Ỉn’s bún chả—charcoal-licked pork, cool herbs, vermicelli and a light broth—was all the comfort we hoped for. And because travel with children sometimes calls for familiar triumphs, we booked a table at Pizza 4P’s. House-made cheese, crisp bases, small plates to share; our son declared it his “Vietnam pizza”, which feels like a very high honour. Later that night, while he savoured gelato, we slipped into a quiet taproom and shared a craft-beer tasting—clean glasses, comfortable seats, staff happy to chat through flavours. It felt like grown-up time without stepping away from the family holiday we wanted to have.
Between meals: Denimister, immersive art & soft-shell crab
Between meals we let curiosity lead. Denimister, a beautifully curated vintage shop, offered the kind of browsing that tells you about a city: old band tees, silk blouses, a tailor at work, and a shopkeeper recommending a nearby café for iced tea. On a warmer afternoon we took shelter at the Monet & Van Gogh immersive show—art we could all meet in the middle. There were seats for us and space for our toddler to point and whisper “stars” at Van Gogh’s sky. Afterwards, we strolled to a neighbourhood place serving soft-shell crab, crisp and delicate, with rice and greens to share. It felt like a finale without any fanfare.
The beauty of small rituals
What surprised us most was how often the best bits were the simplest ones. An al fresco seat on a side street with a phin slowly dripping. A balcony in the Café Apartment with a breeze and a view of children racing scooters on Nguyen Hue. Book Street, mid-morning, where you can buy a postcard, write a few lines while your child explores a picture book, and post it home before lunch. Saigon welcomes small rituals. Once you find yours, the days arrange themselves around them.
A ten-day rhythm that felt right
We didn’t try to see everything, and that was the point. Ten days was just enough for a rhythm: a gentle start, a single “big” experience before the heat rose, an afternoon rest, an evening wander. Some days that anchor was the bus, on others a coffee class, a river cruise, Hủ Tiếu Nam Vang in a trusted kitchen, bún chả at a MICHELIN-listed spot, or the simple pleasure of a balcony coffee. We left feeling like we had travelled rather than ticked boxes, that we had made space for a city to show us what it does best: feed, welcome, and slow you down.
Practical notes we were glad we packed
Scam-safe accommodation booking: use trusted, approved platforms or official hotel sites only. Keep all messages and payments inside the platform, and never transfer money off-platform—even if a “discount” is offered. Check reviews, cancellation terms and verification before you pay.
Heat and timing: mornings and evenings for walks; afternoons for air-conditioned cafés, exhibits and naps.
Getting around: short ride-hail trips are inexpensive and save energy for the good bits.
Footwear and shade: supportive sandals, a light umbrella, and a small hand towel make a big difference.
Toddler kit: light clothing for the humidity, a compact pram/stroller, a JISULIFE portable fan for queues, and a few familiar snacks. Food in Vietnam is generally safe; for young tummies, choose simple dishes from reputable places and keep a small backup in the day bag.
Mindset: choose one anchor each day and let everything else be a bonus. Have fun and stay safe.