In late September 2025, I spent 4 days in Hanoi catching up with Alex, a former colleague I hadn’t seen in 8 years. I wasn’t really in the mood to travel. I just wanted to meet him, take a walk together like we used to, and maybe capture a bit of Hanoi life through my phone. Somehow, the trip unfolded like a movie, the perfect opening scene for my next chapter.
It was around the time Vietnam celebrated its 80th Independence Day on September 2nd. Red flags still hung across the city. They just became the perfect backdrop for the photos I took.
Arrival in the Heat
To make the trip a little more adventurous, I decided to take a local bus instead of a taxi after arriving at Noi Bai Airport. The road was bumpy, and the bus swayed as it made its way into the city. I only remember how much I suffered in the heat. The sun was blazing outside, and the bus didn’t even drop me off where I planned to go. I didn’t want to walk 15 minutes under the 1PM-sun to my homestay, so I booked a Grab car to save myself from the Hanoi heat.
My Corner in Hanoi
My homestay was in a small alley in the French Quarter. The building was an old French-style apartment complex with worn windows, narrow stairs, and hanging plants. I rented a single room inside it. The owner’s family had lived there for 3 generations. I felt comfortable living quietly among Hanoians and their everyday rhythm.
Two Ends of the Alley
The alley I stayed was in connected to 2 different worlds. At one end, the path led to a quiet street shaded by old trees and French colonial buildings, many now used for government and military offices. The area felt calm and peaceful, almost frozen in time.
At the other end, life became more alive. Food stalls and tiny shops, carrying the scent of warm meals through the air. I could stand in 1 spot and watch a dozen small stories: a man repairing shoes, women deep in conversation, a quiet café tucked away from sight,…
Each walk through that alley felt like crossing between 2 frames of a story. One resting in time, the other unfolding in motion. I think life in Hanoi is so balanced: peaceful and alive, quiet and full of movement.
The Ice-Cream Man at Hồ Tây
One afternoon, I cycled to a nearby lake – Hồ Tây (West Lake). As I circled around to observe life along the shore, I stopped at an ice-cream cart. The vendor had a menu listing many flavors, but when I ordered, he smiled and said he had only one. We laughed. Then I asked to take a photo, and he turned slightly to my side. He was a little camera-shy, but smiling anyway. It was such a small, random moment of connection.
Below are some shots around Hồ Tây (West Lake). I realized Hanoi has its own rhythm: slow enough for me to frame a photo without much effort, and alive enough to keep me looking.
The Frame of Growth
Then I met Alex on my 3rd day in Hanoi. He had just finished a 70km mountain marathon from Sapa. He hadn’t changed much since the last time we saw each other. We had lunch, then tried some local craft beers. After that, we walked around Hồ Gươm (Sword Lake) and talked about work, life, and our perspectives on photography.
I didn’t frame any photo of us during the walk. I was busy remembering the moments. Alex got a selfie of us, and through his photo, I saw not just a friend, but a reminder of the time I first crossed paths with him. It was one of the toughest transitions in my career. Back then, he was someone who spent time with me when things felt uncertain.
Now, meeting him again years later felt different. I was no longer the same designer. During our walk, I came across a lotus blooming by the lake. I took a photo without thinking much about it. After got back to Saigon, when I looked at the photo again, it felt like a symbol of change + healing + transition + growth. I think the universe led me to this white lotus (with a few red spots) so I could frame the moment of meeting Alex again, marking a new chapter in my journey.
The Frame I Couldn’t Take
There was another memory I couldn’t frame during this trip. The homestay owner, a retired military officer, drove me to the airport on my last day in Hanoi. When we said goodbye, he gave me a formal soldier’s salute. It was serious, precise, and completely unexpected.
I couldn’t take a photo of that moment because I was the main focus in the scene. I wore a white T-shirt and blue jeans; the sky was bright and windy, and the airport drop-off point was empty. It was just me, him, and his old car. He stood in front of me, eyes steady, hand raised in salute, and said “Chào tạm biệt đồng chí”, which means “Goodbye, comrade”. My heart melted as he treated me like a soldier, with pride.
I smiled back. I wished I knew how to return the salute, but I was too caught up in the moment, trying to remember every detail of that beautiful scene.
Maybe he gives a salute to every guest during the Independence Day celebration. But after seeing Alex again and everything this trip brought back for me, that salute felt deeply meaningful.
After all, it felt like a beautiful movie to my memories. Hanoi gave me 4 frames to remember:
A city where life moved in balance between stillness and motion.
A friend who reminded me where I began.
A lotus that reflected how I’ve grown.
A salute that sent me off to my next chapter.
Things seemed to happen randomly, yet somehow they all fell perfectly into place. As I continue on my own path, I’ll always carry that salute with me. Just like a graduated soldier, quietly moving forward.
I’m not afraid anymore, Alex 😊