Biên Hòa Wasn't Even On My List
(and it broke me in the best way)
Real talk from July 2024 · 5 days · ~$400 · infinite mistakes
📋 Jump to ... (or don't, I'm not a cop)
How I ended up in Biên Hòa
Honestly? I only came 'cause I missed my bus to Đà Lạt. Classic. I was at the Miền Đông bus station in Saigon, it was 6am, I was sleep-deprived, and I somehow got on the wrong minibus. The driver kept saying “Biên Hòa, Biên Hòa” and I thought he was confirming my ticket. He wasn't. By the time I realized, we were already on the highway, and I figured – screw it, let's see what Biên Hòa is. I'd never even heard of a foreigner going there. It's not in any guidebook. It's just ... the industrial city you pass thru on the way to Vũng Tàu.
First thing I noticed stepping out of the bus at 7:15am: the smell. Not bad, just ... specific. Diesel, yes, but also gỗ – wood from the furniture workshops – and something sweet, like overripe pomelo. And the DUST. Everything had a thin layer of reddish dirt. It hadn't rained yet, but the air was so thick you could chew it. July in Biên Hòa is not forgiving. 34°C and 80% humidity at 8am. I was wearing jeans 'cause I thought I was going to the mountains. Stupid.
So there I was, standing outside a random convenience store on Cách Mạng Tháng Tám, sweating thru my jeans, watching motorbikes swarm like metal ants. A woman selling bánh mì looked at me, looked at my suitcase, and just laughed. Not mean – just ... amused. She waved me over, pointed at a plastic stool. “Ngồi đi, uống nước.” Sit, drink water. She gave me a glass of iced tea, free, no questions asked. I sat there for 20 minutes, watching the city wake up. A guy with a cart full of pink pomelos rolled by. A kid in an ao dai on her way to school. A workshop where men were sanding massive wooden Buddha statues, the sawdust swirling in the early light. I thought: maybe this wasn't a mistake.
The neighborhoods: real talk
❤️ ABSOLUTE FAVORITE: CÙ LAO PHỐ. Look, everyone told me there's nothing to see in Biên Hòa. They were wrong. Cù Lao Phố is an island on the Đồng Nai River, connected by a rickety bridge. It used to be a major trading port for Chinese and Japanese merchants back in the 17th century. Now it's this sleepy, crumbling neighborhood with narrow lanes, moss-covered temple roofs, and these massive old trees with roots that've swallowed half the sidewalk. I walked there at 8am – the air smelled of river mud and incense from the Ông Bà Chiếu temple. At 8pm it's almost silent, just the croaking of frogs and distant karaoke. I saw the same graffiti tag – a faded blue phoenix – on three different walls. I like to think it's the same artist, or maybe a ghost.
Phường Trung Dũng – the "center" around the Biên Hòa market. It's chaotic, noisy, and honestly kinda fun. At 8am it's all fresh produce and live poultry; at 8pm it's all night stalls and students drinking sugarcane juice. I didn't love it, but I didn't hate it. It's just ... there.
Khu dân cư Bửu Long – this is where the "new" Biên Hòa is. Wide boulevards, villas, golf courses, and the absolutely stunning Bửu Long temple complex. It feels like a different city – manicured, wealthy, a bit sterile. But the temple makes it worth it. More on that later.
Where the good coffee actually is: Not the chain places. There's a tiny alley on Hẻm 104 Nguyễn Văn Trị. A woman named Ms. Ba runs a cà phê vợt stall from her front porch. She roasts her own robusta with butter and a hint of cocoa. The coffee is thick, almost syrupy, served with a small cup of jasmine tea to cleanse your palate. 12k. She doesn't speak English, but she calls everyone “con”. I went there four mornings in a row. On the last day, she gave me a bag of grounds. “Quà cho con.” Gift for you. I almost ugly-cried.
Food That Made Me Emotional
🔥 BÚN MẮM – Cô Ba Chợ Biên Hòa, 67/4 Phan Đình Phùng. I know, another Cô Ba. This city runs on women named Ba, I swear. This is a tiny stall tucked behind the market, open only from 6am to 10am. I went at 7:30. The broth is fermented fish – mắm – but not the scary kind. It's deep, funky, savory, with chunks of snakehead fish, pork belly, and these tiny eggplants that burst in your mouth. I added chili, lime, and a mountain of herbs. The first sip – I literally put down my spoon and stared at the steam. My mom used to make a similar soup when I was sick. I hadn't thought about that in years. 40k. I ate two bowls. Cô Ba didn't even look surprised; she just ladled more.
GỎI BƯỞI – Hẻm 22 Nguyễn Ái Quốc. Biên Hòa is famous for its pink-fleshed pomelo, sweeter and less bitter than the usual kind. This lady – I never got her name – makes a salad with shredded pomelo, shrimp, pork, peanuts, and a fish sauce dressing that is basically crack. She assembles it in a big clay bowl, tossing it with her bare hands (she wears gloves, don't worry). The texture: crunchy, chewy, juicy, nutty. I ate it on a plastic stool, sweat dripping down my back, and it was the most refreshing thing I've ever tasted. 35k. I went back every day.
The disappointing meal. I tried a fancy phở place on Phan Trung that had nice lighting and a menu in English. The phở tai was 75k – twice the normal price – and the broth was MSG-heavy and kinda greasy. Worse, the beef was chewy. I left half. Should've known better.
Hangover cure? Didn't drink much, but one night the humidity gave me a headache that felt like a hangover. A street vendor on Hà Huy Giáp sold me a bag of cháo cá lóc – rice porridge with snakehead fish, ginger, and scallions. 20k. I took it to the riverbank and ate it as the sun set. Instant medicine.
Street food that scared then delighted me: Dồi trường – fermented pork sausage, raw. I saw it at a cart near the market, pale pink, wrapped in banana leaf. The vendor saw my face and said, “ăn thử, ngon.” Try it, delicious. I took a tiny bite. Sour, salty, garlicky, with a crunch from pork skin. My brain said “danger” but my mouth said “more.” I ate the whole thing. 15k. I didn't die. I felt invincible.
💰 Expensive mistake: I bought a box of “Biên Hòa pomelo wine” from a shop that looked like it catered to tourists. 280k. Later I found the exact same bottle at a supermarket for 140k. Everything's gone up, but that was just dumb. The wine was mediocre.
What locals ate vs tourists: I never saw another foreigner in Biên Hòa. So literally everything I ate was what locals ate. That's the whole city.
Tourist Stuff vs. What Actually Ruled
Văn Miếu Trấn Biên – This is the "Temple of Literature" of Biên Hòa. It's a replica of the one in Hanoi, but smaller, less crowded, and honestly more peaceful. I went on a Thursday afternoon, and I was the only person there. The lacquered boards with Confucian scripts, the frangipani trees, the quiet. It felt more real than the overcrowded original. Admission: free. I donated 50k.
Bửu Long Temple – Okay, this one deserves the hype. It's a complex of temples, pagodas, and a huge reclining Buddha, all set around a lake with those weird karst rock formations. I went at 4:30pm, and the light was insane – golden, soft, hitting the white statues like a Renaissance painting. There were maybe five other visitors. A monk walked past and smiled. No one tried to sell me anything. I sat on a bench for an hour, watching a turtle climb onto a rock. Best 0 dong I spent.
What my homestay host recommended: “You want to see real Biên Hòa? Go to the ceramic village, Tân Vạn.” I almost skipped it 'cause it's not in any guidebook. It's just a neighborhood along the river where families have been making pottery for generations. I walked into a workshop where an old man was turning a vase on a kick wheel. He didn't speak, just pointed at a rack of finished pieces. I bought a small celadon bowl for 80k. He wrapped it in old newspaper, tied it with a piece of rattan. That bowl is now my favorite thing in my apartment.
The thing I found by accident: I was trying to find the ferry to Cát Lái (I wasn't, I was lost). I ended up at a tiny riverfront temple, Chùa Ông, dedicated to a Chinese sea goddess. It was deserted, full of incense smoke and old women praying. One of them gestured for me to ring a giant bronze bell. I did. The sound vibrated thru my chest. She smiled, gave me a pomelo. I don't know her name, but I think about her often.
Getting Around: What Google Maps Won't Tell You
Motorbike rental – I rented from a guy on Phạm Văn Thuận. 100k/day. The bike was a Honda Blade with 60,000km on it and a cracked rearview mirror. The guy asked, “Bạn biết chạy xe không?” Do you know how to drive? I said yes. I did not, in fact, know how to handle Biên Hòa traffic. It's not like Saigon – here, the trucks are bigger, the lanes are narrower, and nobody signals. I almost got side-swiped by a cement mixer on day 1. Lesson: practice in a quiet neighborhood first. Or just take Grabs.
The bus system – I tried. There are these green minibuses that go to various districts. I attempted to take one to Tân Vạn. I waited at a stop for 30 minutes, asked three people, got three different answers. Eventually I just grabbed a Grab Bike for 45k. I never cracked the bus code. Maybe you will. I didn't.
Walking – Honestly underrated. Biên Hòa isn't that big, and the riverfront is pleasant. I walked from my homestay to Cù Lao Phố every day – about 2km. You see so much more: the lady selling boiled snails, the old men playing cờ tướng under a banyan tree, the random duck crossing the road. Just bring water and an umbrella; July is WET.
Hack figured out day 3: Download the "Be" app (like Grab, but sometimes cheaper). I took a Be Bike from Bửu Long to the market for 27k. The driver knew a shortcut thru a series of alleys that Google didn't even show. Saved 15 minutes. Use Be.
Where I Stayed: The Good, Bad, and Weird
Homestay Sông Quê, 14/6 Hẻm 98 Nguyễn Văn Trị. $16/night on Booking. The photos showed a clean room with a window overlooking a garden. What they didn't show: the garden was actually a small jungle of potted plants, which I loved, but also a breeding ground for mosquitoes. Also, the family upstairs had a rooster that crowed at 4:30am. Every. Single. Day.
🚿 THE SHOWER – Had hot water! But the pressure was pathetic, and the drain was partially clogged. You showered in a puddle that slowly receded. I pretended it was a spa treatment.
🔊 THE NOISE – The rooster. And the family's kid practicing piano. Same song, every evening, for an hour. I can now play "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" in my head perfectly. It's a curse.
🌿 THE AMAZING THING – The host, Mr. Lộc, was a retired geography teacher. He spoke decent English and loved to chat. He gave me a hand-drawn map of Cù Lao Phố with notes like “oldest house, 1820” and “best hủ tiếu, secret alley.” He also had a pet myna bird that could say “xin chào” and “cảm ơn.” I taught it to say “Biên Hòa số một.” His wife laughed so hard she cried.
Price paid: $80 for 5 nights. Worth it? 100%. I'd battle a thousand roosters for Mr. Lộc's map and that myna bird.
The Thing That Surprised Me
I expected Biên Hòa to be ... nothing. Just a provincial capital, an industrial satellite of Saigon. And in many ways, it is. But I didn't expect the layers. The 17th-century trading port, the Chinese temples, the Khmer influences, the American War history (there's a huge airbase here, now a industrial park). It's not a city that polishes its history for tourists. It just lives with it.
What surprised me most: the river. The Đồng Nai is wide, brown, and unglamorous. But it's the lifeblood. Ferries still cross it, fishermen cast nets from tiny boats, kids swim off wooden platforms. I sat on the bank one evening and watched a barge loaded with sand drift by. A woman on the barge waved at me. I waved back. It was such a small thing, but I felt ... connected. Not to the history or the sights, but to the present moment, to that woman and her barge and the muddy water.
And the people. I thought I'd feel invisible – just another clueless foreigner. But I was so obviously not a local that everyone was curious, in a nice way. The bánh mì lady who gave me free iced tea. Mr. Lộc and his hand-drawn map. The monk at Bửu Long who smiled without saying anything. I've been to cities that make you feel like a walking wallet. Biên Hòa made me feel like a guest.
Money: What I Actually Spent
I tracked every đồng because I'm neurotic. Here's the breakdown – all the dumb expenses, all the wins.
💰 Savings tip: Buy fruit from the lady with the cart, not the market stalls. Same pomelo, half the price. Also, carry small bills – vendors often "don't have change" for 200k notes.
Mistakes I Made So You Don't Have To
- I packed for Đà Lạt (sweaters, jeans) and ended up in the humid lowlands. July in Biên Hòa is like living in a sauna run by a sadist. I bought three cheap cotton T‑shirts from a street vendor for 40k each. They were thin and faded after one wash, but they saved my life. Pack light, breathable fabrics, and a GOOD rain jacket.
- I didn't bring mosquito repellent. The garden at my homestay was beautiful, but it was also a mosquito breeding ground. I have 14 bites on my left ankle alone. The local repellent (80k) worked but smelled like citronella and regret. Bring your own.
- I assumed everyone spoke English. In Saigon, sure. In Biên Hòa, not so much. I got by with Google Translate and a few phrases, but I wish I'd studied more. “Cái này bao nhiêu?” and “ngon quá” got me far. “Xin lỗi, tôi bị lạc” (sorry, I'm lost) saved me twice.
- I tried to visit the ceramic village on Sunday. Everything was closed. Most workshops take Sunday off. I stood outside a locked gate like an idiot. Go on a weekday, morning is best.
- I didn't bring a power bank. My phone battery drained fast in the heat, and I was constantly using maps. I spent 45 minutes lost in a residential neighborhood, too proud to ask for help. Don't be me.
How It Actually Went: Day by Day
Monday – arrival & regret: Got on wrong bus, ended up in Biên Hòa. Overpaid taxi, sweated, met bánh mì lady. Checked into homestay, met Mr. Lộc and the myna bird. Ate bún mắm at Cô Ba's, cried a little. Slept at 8pm, exhausted.
Tuesday – exploring Cù Lao Phố: Woke up at 4:30am to the rooster. Couldn't sleep, so I walked to Cù Lao Phố at dawn. Fog over the river, temples silent, the blue phoenix graffiti. Found the oldest house (Mr. Lộc's map was right). Ate bánh tráng phơi sương from Mr. Tám. Afternoon: Văn Miếu, then gỏi bưởi. Evening: Ms. Ba's coffee. Taught myna bird to say “Biên Hòa số một.”
Wednesday – temple & ceramics: Rented motorbike. Morning: Bửu Long temple – stayed 2 hours. Then Tân Vạn ceramic village (not Sunday, phew). Bought celadon bowl. Almost got hit by cement mixer. Parked bike, took Grab home. Ate dồi trường, didn't die.
Thursday – rain & river: Monsoon morning. Slept in, drank coffee on the homestay porch. Mr. Lộc told me about the 1968 Tet Offensive in Biên Hòa – the airbase, the fighting. Afternoon: accidental ferry to fish farm, met Mr. Năm, got ruốc. Evening: bún mắm again. Cô Ba smiled.
Friday – last day: Meant to go to Đồng Nai Museum (skipped, thank God). Instead, walked along the river, bought pomelos from a cart, sat on a bench and watched the barges. Final bowl of gỏi bưởi. Said goodbye to Ms. Ba, she gave me coffee grounds. Myna bird said “Biên Hòa số một” as I walked out the gate. I cried a little again.
Saturday – bus back to Saigon: Mr. Lộc drove me to the bus station on his motorbike. “Nhớ quay lại,” he said. Remember to come back. I promised I would. I meant it.
Practical Stuff (Without the Boring Lists)
Almost-scam at the bus station: A guy tried to sell me a “special ticket” to Saigon for 150k. The actual price is 45k. I said “không, cảm ơn” and walked to the official counter. He followed me for a bit, then gave up. Just know the price beforehand.
Health thing that went wrong: The heat gave me a mild heat rash on my back. I bought a bottle of nước muối sinh lý (saline spray) from a pharmacy, and it helped. Also, drink more water than you think you need. I didn't, and I regretted it.
Song that was everywhere: “Vì Anh Đâu Có Biết” by Madihu. I heard it at the coffee shop, in a taxi, even blasting from a furniture workshop. It's a chill lo-fi track, and now it's permanently associated with the smell of sawdust and river mist.
What I wish I'd packed: A reusable water bottle (there are filtered water dispensers everywhere, 2k/liter). A small towel for the constant sweat. A phrasebook – or at least a better Vietnamese dictionary app. And earplugs for the rooster.
Inside joke with Mr. Lộc: On my last day, he asked, “Con thấy Biên Hòa thế nào?” What do you think of Biên Hòa? I said, “Đẹp quá, nhưng sao không có Tây du lịch?” It's beautiful, but why no Western tourists? He laughed and said, “Tại vì họ không biết, mà cũng tại vì họ sợ.” Because they don't know, and also because they're scared. Then he winked. “Giờ con biết rồi, con kể cho họ đi.” Now you know, you tell them. So I am. This is me telling you.
Anyway. I didn't plan to write a novel about Biên Hòa. I didn't even plan to go there. But now I can't stop thinking about it. The dust, the river, the coffee, the people who gave me directions even when they didn't understand me. It's not a city that asks to be loved. It's a city that waits, patiently, for you to figure it out yourself.
Also, I still have that jar of ruốc in my fridge. One day I'll be brave enough to open it. One day I'll go back.
Still have questions? Wanna argue about bún mắm?
Drop a comment – I read every single one. Even if you just want the exact location of Ms. Ba's coffee stall. I'll try to describe it, but it's hidden, you kinda have to find it yourself. That's the point.
Last updated: July 2024 · prices are probably higher now · Biên Hòa số một!
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