Nam Định

Nam Định Didn't Owe Me Anything
(and then it gave me phở)

Real talk from October 2024 · 6 days · ~$480 · infinite mistakes

📍 NAM ĐỊNH, VIETNAM · ⏱️ Best time: Sep–Nov (autumn is perfect) · ☕ Coffee budget: $2.50/day

📋 Jump to ... (or don't, I'm not the boss)

→ How I ended up here (wrong train) → Neighborhoods: real talk, real quiet → Food that made me ugly cry → Tourist stuff vs. what actually ruled → Getting around (cyclo scam attempt) → Where I crashed: the good, the damp, the bell → The thing that surprised me → Money: what I actually spent → My screw-ups (you're welcome) → Day by day: meant to, but then... → Practical stuff (no boring lists)

How I ended up in Nam Định

Honestly? I only came here 'cause I got on the wrong train. Again. I was supposed to go to Ninh Bình – you know, the famous one, with the mountains and the tourists and the overpriced boat rides. But I was tired, it was 6:17am, and I just nodded at the ticket seller and said "vâng, cảm ơn" without actually checking the ticket. An hour later, the train stopped, everyone got off, and the sign said GA NAM ĐỊNH. Not Tam Cốc. Not Ninh Bình. Nam Định.

I stood on the platform, backpack heavy, completely disoriented. A woman selling bánh cuốn looked at me and laughed. Not mean – just the universal laugh of "you are so lost, foreigner." I was about to walk back to the ticket counter when I smelled something. Not the usual train station smell of diesel and stale bread. It was ... beef broth. Deep, fragrant, with a hint of star anise. I hadn't even had coffee yet. I followed my nose.

⚠️ Mistake #1 within 10 minutes: I saw a cyclo driver and thought, "hey, this is authentic." He quoted 50k to go to "any hotel." I agreed. He took me on a 15-minute ride that was actually a 5-minute walk. I tipped him 20k 'cause I felt bad. Later I learned cyclo drivers in Nam Định are mostly just retired guys looking for conversation, not scams – but I still overpaid by like 300%. Oh well.

The phở stall was just outside the station, under a faded green awning. No sign. A lady with silver hair and a ladle. I pointed at the pot. She said "ngồi đi" – sit. I sat on a tiny red stool. She handed me a bowl of phở bò that changed my life. The broth was clear, almost amber, with a layer of golden fat. The beef was tender, the noodles thin and silky. I added chili and lime. I don't remember the train, the mistake, the confusion. I just remember that bowl. 35,000 VND. I knew right then: I wasn't leaving Nam Định anytime soon.

The neighborhoods: real talk

❤️ ABSOLUTE FAVORITE: KHU PHỐ CỔ – THE OLD TOWN. Not the "old quarter" like Hanoi, not touristy at all. It's just ... old. Streets so narrow two motorbikes can't pass, French-colonial houses with peeling yellow paint, wooden shutters that haven't opened in decades. I walked down Phố Hàng Sắt at 8am – the sun was low, casting long shadows, and a man was opening his metalwork shop, pulling a corrugated door up with a sound like thunder. The smell of rust and coffee. At 8pm, it's almost silent. A few old women selling chè from baskets, the clatter of a lone bia hơi joint. I saw the same graffiti tag – a faded red phoenix – on three different corners. I don't know what it means, but I felt like it was following me.

Đường Trần Hưng Đạo – the main drag. Wide, tree-lined, a bit grand. It's fine. Good for people-watching, cafes, the big cathedral. But it feels like the "official" Nam Định, not the real one.

Phường Vị Xuyên – this is where the textile workshops are. You can hear the rhythmic thumping of looms from the street. Women carry bundles of finished fabric on their heads. It smells like starch and dye. I walked thru one afternoon and felt like I'd stepped back a century. No tourists. Just work.

🗑️ The "new urban area" near Trần Quang Khải – skip it. I mean, it's not terrible, just ... generic. Identical apartment blocks, a Big C supermarket, chain coffee shops. You could be anywhere in Vietnam. I walked there for 20 minutes, felt zero soul, and grabbed a Grab back to the old town.

Where the good coffee actually is: Not on the main streets. There's an alley off Hẻm 28 Bến Ngự. No name, just a handwritten sign: "CÀ PHÊ CỐC" – coffee in a cup. An old couple runs it. He roasts the beans in a wok out back; she serves. The coffee is thick, dark, with a hint of chocolate. 10k. I sat there every afternoon, watching the light shift across the mossy courtyard. The old man doesn't speak, but he nods when you leave. That's enough.

Food That Made Me Emotional

🔥 PHỞ BÒ – Bà Mười, 27 Hàng Sắt. I know, I already mentioned the station phở. But this was different. Bà Mười has been making phở for 52 years. Her grandfather invented Nam Định phở? I don't know, someone told me that, maybe it's legend. Her broth is darker, richer, with more cinnamon and clove. She serves it with quẩy – fried dough – on the side. I dipped the quẩy in the broth and almost wept. It was like the first good dream after a nightmare. 45k. I went three times. She started calling me "cháu" – grandchild. I felt adopted.

BÁNH CUỐN LỀ – 12 Trần Bình Trọng. Not a restaurant, just a woman and a steamer on the sidewalk. She spreads rice batter on a cloth stretched over a pot of boiling water, scrapes off the thin sheet, fills it with minced pork and wood ear mushroom. Rolls it, slices it, tops with fried shallots and a drizzle of fish sauce. The texture is like a cloud made of silk. 25k for a plate of four. I ordered two plates. She smiled and gave me an extra one, free. "Ăn đi, con trai." Eat, son. I nearly proposed.

🍲 "You want the best cháo cá lóc? Come back at 6." – Mr. Hiền, who runs a tiny rice porridge stall on Hoàng Văn Thụ. I came back at 5:55. He was setting up his cart, lighting charcoal in a bucket. The porridge simmered for an hour before serving. Snakehead fish, ginger, scallions, a splash of shrimp paste. He served it with a side of fried breadsticks. 30k. I told him it was the best I'd ever had. He nodded like he already knew.

The disappointing meal. I tried a "famous" nem chua rán place on Phố Bến Ngự that was in a Facebook food group. The fried fermented pork rolls were greasy, and the dipping sauce was watery. 60k for five pieces. I left half. Maybe it was an off night. Maybe I just don't like nem chua rán that much. Fight me.

Hangover cure? I don't drink much, but one evening I shared a bottle of rượu nếp with a retired history teacher at my homestay. The next morning, mild headache. A woman on Phố Hàng Đồng sold me a bowl of cháo vịt – duck porridge. Salty, gingery, with shreds of duck and a century egg. 25k. I ate it on a plastic stool, watching the rain start. I felt human again by the last spoonful.

Street food that scared then delighted me: Ốc luộc – boiled snails. I saw a group of students huddled around a cart, picking at something with toothpicks. I joined. The lady handed me a bowl of tiny snails in lemongrass broth. You have to suck the meat out – there's a technique. I failed spectacularly. The students laughed, one girl showed me how. Poke with the toothpick, twist, suck. I got it! The snail was chewy, savory, a little sweet. I ate a dozen. 20k. I felt like I'd unlocked a level.

💰 Expensive mistake: I bought a jar of fermented tofu from a shop that looked "premium." 180k. The next day I saw the exact same jar at the market for 80k. Everything's gone up, but that was just dumb. The tofu was fine. Not 180k fine.

What locals ate vs tourists: There were no tourists. I was the only foreigner I saw in six days. So literally everything I ate was what locals ate. I felt like I'd hacked the system.

Tourist Stuff vs. What Actually Ruled

Nhà thờ Lớn Nam Định – The big cathedral. It's huge, neo-Gothic, built by the French in the 1930s. It's impressive, sure. But what got me wasn't the architecture – it was the light. I walked in at 4:30pm, and the sun was streaming thru the stained glass, casting red and blue patterns on the pews. An old woman was praying alone, her lips moving silently. No tour groups, no cameras. I sat in the back for 20 minutes. It was the most peaceful I felt all trip.

💡 Skip the Nam Định Museum of Textiles. I was excited – Nam Định was once the textile capital of northern Vietnam. But the museum is sad. Dim lighting, half the exhibits broken, no English. It felt like a high school project that no one's touched in 20 years. Do the walking tour of the old textile workshops instead. You'll see the real thing.

Đền Trần – This is the big one. A massive temple complex dedicated to the Trần dynasty. It IS impressive, but also very ... organized. Wide courtyards, manicured gardens, souvenir stalls. I went on a weekday morning and it was still full of tour groups. It felt like checking a box. What my homestay host recommended instead: Chùa Cổ Lễ. 15 minutes away, a pagoda with a 200-year-old tower that's leaning like Pisa. No tourists, just monks and a few old ladies burning incense. I climbed the tower – narrow, creaky stairs – and saw the whole city from the top. Free. I donated 50k.

The thing I found by accident: I was trying to find the train station (I wasn't, I was lost). I ended up on a random street, Phố Lương Thế Vinh, and saw a faded sign: "BẢO TÀNG ĐỒNG QUÊ" – Village Museum. It was someone's house. An old man, Mr. Tùng, had spent 40 years collecting farming tools, looms, ceramics, old photographs. He gave me a tour in broken English and French. "This plow, 1920. This pot, my grandmother." No entry fee, but I gave him 100k. He almost cried. I almost cried. That was better than any official museum.

Getting Around: What Google Maps Won't Tell You

Walking – Honestly the best way. Nam Định is flat, compact, and most of the interesting stuff is in a 2km radius. I walked everywhere. You notice things you'd miss on a bike: the woman feeding stray cats behind the market, the faded communist murals, the smell of incense from a hidden temple.

Cyclo – Okay, so after the initial overpay, I actually took a few more cyclo rides. They're not scams here – they're just old guys trying to make a living. I had a long conversation with Mr. Đạt, 73, who's been pedaling for 40 years. He showed me the old textile factory, the bridge where his father used to fish. I paid him 100k for an hour-long tour. Worth every dong.

⚠️ Scam attempt near the train station: A xe ôm driver quoted me 40k to go to Đền Trần. I agreed. He started driving, then said "temple entrance fee, you pay me 50k, I buy ticket for you." I knew the temple is free. I said "không, tôi tự mua." He stopped, looked annoyed, took me the rest of the way in silence. I gave him 40k and walked away. Trust your instincts.

Bus – I didn't even try. The city buses seem to exist, but I never figured out the routes. Grab Bike is 15-25k for most trips. Easier.

Motorbike rental – I didn't rent one this time. Nam Định traffic is calmer than Saigon or Hanoi, but I was tired of bikes. I walked and took Grabs. No regrets.

Hack figured out day 3: The train station has a luggage storage counter. 20k for the day. I left my big backpack there on my last day and explored freely before the evening train. Game changer.

Where I Stayed: The Good, Bad, and Weird

Nhà Nghỉ Hoàng Mai, 14/7 Hẻm 32 Bến Ngự. $15/night on Agoda. The photos showed a clean room with a window overlooking a courtyard. What they didn't show: the courtyard was actually a construction site (no construction happened, just piles of sand), the window didn't fully close, and there was a persistent smell of damp incense. But the family who ran it – Mrs. Lan and her husband, Mr. Hiền (the cháo cá lóc guy) – were the kindest people I met in Vietnam.

🚿 THE SHOWER – Had hot water! But the pressure was sad, and the shower head was positioned so you had to hold it with one hand while scrubbing with the other. I felt like I was in a car wash designed by a minimalist.

🔊 THE NOISE – Not the construction. The BELL. A nearby temple rang a massive bronze bell every morning at 5am. Not a gentle chime – a deep, resonant BOOM that vibrated through the floor. The first morning I jolted awake, panicked. By day 3, I woke up two minutes before it rang, as if my body had synchronized.

🌿 THE AMAZING THING – Mrs. Lan invited me to dinner on my second night. Her family meal: braised pork, morning glory, canh chua, and a mountain of rice. I sat with her, Mr. Hiền, their teenage son, and his grandmother. We communicated with Google Translate and gestures. The grandmother held my hand and said "cháu ngoan" – good grandchild. I don't know if I deserved it, but I teared up anyway.

Price paid: $90 for 6 nights. Worth it? 1000%. The shower was sad, the bell was loud, but Mrs. Lan's braised pork healed something in me.

The Thing That Surprised Me

I expected Nam Định to be ... forgotten. A provincial capital that time passed by. And in a way, it is. The textile industry collapsed in the 90s. The young people move to Hanoi or Saigon. The old town is crumbling, not in a romantic way, but in a "we don't have money to fix it" way.

But what surprised me was the absence of desperation. No one tried to sell me overpriced souvenirs. No one begged. No one looked at me like a walking ATM. I was just ... there. A curious foreigner who stumbled off the wrong train. People were kind, but not performatively kind. They didn't want anything from me.

One afternoon, I sat on a bench near the Đào Giang River. An old man was fishing with a bamboo pole. He caught a tiny silver fish, held it up, looked at it, threw it back. We sat in silence for 20 minutes. He didn't speak English. I don't speak Vietnamese. But when I stood up to leave, he nodded. That was the whole conversation. It was enough.

I thought I needed to go to "important" places – temples, museums, landmarks. But Nam Định taught me that a city isn't its sights. It's the space between them. The alley where a woman sells snails. The bench where a fisherman throws back a fish. The bowl of phở that arrives exactly when you need it.

Money: What I Actually Spent

I tracked every đồng because I'm paranoid. Here's the real breakdown – no rounding, no vague ranges.

Category	VND	USD	Worth it?
Accommodation (6 nights)	2,160,000	$90	❤️❤️❤️ (Mrs. Lan's cooking)
Food & coffee (6 days)	1,870,000	$78	Worth every dong, even bad nem chua
Transport (Grab, cyclo, train)	520,000	$22	cyclo tour worth it
Sightseeing & donations	350,000	$15	Mr. Tùng's museum, yes
Souvenirs (tofu, postcards)	410,000	$17	overpaid tofu, still regret
Other (laundry, tips, donations)	240,000	$10	temple bell fund
TOTAL	5,550,000 VND	$232	+ train from Hanoi $30 = $262

💰 Savings tip: Coffee at the "CÀ PHÊ CỐC" alley is 10k. Coffee at the chain places is 40k. Same beans, better atmosphere. Always follow the old people.

Mistakes I Made So You Don't Have To

1. I didn't check the train ticket. This is literally why I ended up in Nam Định. Not a mistake? Actually it was the best mistake. But if you actually want to go to Ninh Bình, CHECK THE TICKET.
2. I packed for autumn in Hanoi (cool, dry). Nam Định in October is still humid, and it rained three of the six days. My jeans took forever to dry. Bring quick-dry clothes and a compact umbrella.
3. I assumed ATMs would be everywhere. They are, but half of them didn't work with my foreign card. I walked to four different ATMs before finding one that dispensed cash. Carry enough dong for a few days.
4. I didn't learn the word for "no egg." Because sometimes you just don't want an egg in your noodles. "Không trứng." Simple. I learned it on day 4. Could've saved a lot of picking-around.
5. I tried to visit the textile village on Sunday. Everything was closed. The looms were silent. I stood outside a gate, listening to nothing. Go on a weekday, morning is best.

"I got on the wrong bus – thought it was going to Hải Hậu, ended up in a village called Xuân Trường. There was a market, a church, and a lady selling bánh giò. I ate two, asked for directions, and ended up at a beach I can't find on any map. Best mistake of the trip."

How It Actually Went: Day by Day

Monday – arrival & phở: Wrong train, panic, phở at station, decided to stay. Found homestay, met Mrs. Lan and Mr. Hiền. Walked the old town at dusk. Ate bánh cuốn from the lady on Trần Bình Trọng. Slept like the dead.

Tuesday – temples & cyclo: Meant to go to Đền Trần, overslept. Ate bánh cuốn again. Finally went to Đền Trần – fine, crowded, checked the box. Took a cyclo with Mr. Đạt, saw the old textile factory, the bridge. Evening: Bà Mười's phở. She called me "cháu." I melted.

Wednesday – rain & museum: Rained all morning. Sat at the CÀ PHÊ CỐC alley, drank coffee, listened to rain on corrugated metal. Afternoon: found Mr. Tùng's village museum. Spent two hours. Bought him lunch. Evening: cháo cá lóc from Mr. Hiền's cart. Best porridge of my life.

Thursday – Chùa Cổ Lễ & snails: Took a Grab to Chùa Cổ Lễ. Climbed the leaning tower, saw the whole city. Ate snails with students on Hàng Đồng. Felt cool. Evening: Mrs. Lan invited me to family dinner. Braised pork. Grandmother held my hand. Cried a little.

Friday – textile village fail: Went to the textile village. Everything closed. Oops. Walked around Phường Vị Xuyên anyway, heard looms from the street. Afternoon: bought fermented tofu, overpaid. Evening: final bowl at Bà Mười's. She gave me extra quẩy. "Cháu đi đường cẩn thận." Travel safe, grandchild. I almost lost it.

Saturday – last day: Woke up to the 5am bell. One last coffee at the alley. Walked along the Đào Giang, watched the fisherman throw back a fish. Bought a train ticket – this time to Hanoi, not somewhere random. Mrs. Lan packed me a banana and a bottle of water. Mr. Hiền nodded. I promised to come back. I meant it.

Practical Stuff (Without the Boring Lists)

Almost-scam at the train station: On my last day, a guy offered to "help" me buy a ticket. He said the official counter was "closed for lunch" and he could get me a ticket for 200k. The actual price to Hanoi is 85k. I walked 20 meters to the official counter. It was open. He followed me, then slunk away. Just check for yourself.

Health thing that went wrong: The humidity + rain + air-con gave me a mild sore throat. A pharmacist on Hoàng Văn Thụ sold me a bottle of siro ho (cough syrup) for 35k. It tasted like licorice and regret, but it worked. Also, mosquitoes. Bring repellent.

Song that was everywhere: "Chúng Ta Của Hiện Tại" by Sơn Tùng M-TP. I heard it at the coffee shop, on a vendor's tinny speaker, even from someone's ringtone at the temple. I don't even like Sơn Tùng, but now I associate it with the smell of incense and wet pavement.

What I wish I'd packed: A small flashlight. The alleys are dark at night, and my phone light was weak. Also, a reusable coffee cup – I went thru too much single-use plastic. And earplugs if you're sensitive to 5am temple bells.

💡 Local phrase that opened doors: “Cháu đi lạc, nhưng thấy vui.” (I'm lost, but I'm happy.) I said this to Mrs. Lan, and she laughed so hard she had to sit down. Then she gave me more braised pork. Use it. It works.

Inside joke with Mr. Hiền: Every morning, he'd ask, "Hôm nay cháu ăn cháo không?" Today you eat porridge? And I'd say, "Hôm nào cũng ăn cháo." Every day eat porridge. He'd laugh and ladle me an extra-large bowl. By the end, he didn't even ask. He just started ladling.

Anyway. I didn't mean to stay in Nam Định for six days. I didn't mean to fall in love with a city that wasn't on any list. But that's the thing about getting on the wrong train – you end up in places you never knew you needed.

I still have half a jar of overpriced fermented tofu in my fridge. I don't even like fermented tofu that much. But I can't throw it away. It's my Nam Định souvenir. My reminder that the best travel stories aren't the ones you plan. They're the ones that happen when you're not looking at your phone, when you nod at the wrong ticket seller, when you follow the smell of phở into a city you've never heard of.

Also, I still don't know what that red phoenix graffiti means. Maybe next time I'll ask. Maybe I won't. Some mysteries should stay mysteries.

Still have questions? Wanna argue about phở?

Drop a comment – I read every single one. Even if you just want the exact location of the CÀ PHÊ CỐC alley. I'll try to describe it, but you kinda have to find it yourself. That's the Nam Định way.

Last updated: October 2024 · prices are probably higher now · get on the wrong train sometime