Joshua Zukas

A few kilometres from Ho Chi Minh City's heaving centre, a building is being grown. Unlike its lifeless neighbours, the concrete structure is encased by

Looking at Hanoi’s aspirations for the future is like examining the mistakes of its counterparts in the present. Rather than forge a new cityscape and avoid the mishaps of Bangkok and Manila, Hanoi seems set to emulate these traffic-clogged, glass-obsessed and heat-choked dystopias.

Flexible, quick to grow, and cheap, the charismatic plant has sprouted a whole new style. Around 130km southwest of Hanoi, Vietnam’s capital, sits Cuc Phuong National Park.

A blast of thunder detonates over the Hanoi Old Quarter, declaring the imminent arrival of an autumn shower. Specks of water fall like pin pricks as I squeeze through Trung Yen Alley, a narrow ribbon of road linking Hang Be Market with Dinh Liet Street.

As Vietnam’s booming commercial hub, Ho Chi Minh City is a whirlwind of chaos. But in the eye of the storm sits a cluster of houses where humans, trees and birds coexist peacefully. People occupy the lower levels, but the roofs are giant plant pots, each with a tree sprouting from a thick layer of soil. Chirping birds nest in their branches, quelling the noisy invasion of traffic and construction.

Hanoi, the enigmatic 1000-year-old capital of Vietnam, is a city steeped in legend and layered with intrigue. At the city’s geographical and spiritual heart is the semi-mythical Lake of the Returned Sword, which divides central Hanoi into the chaotic tangle of lanes and alleyways that constitute the Old Quarter to the north, and the grand, tree-lined boulevards that form the French Quarter to the south.

Picture architecture in Vietnam and you might imagine ancient temples buried down countryside lanes or faded colonial buildings lining the city streets. But spurred by unprecedented economic growth, this Southeast Asian country of almost 100 million is revamping its traditional image – and architecture is part of the overhaul. After decades spent trying to keep Vietnam’s unrelenting jungles out of the cities, visionary architects now harness th

Hanoi’s architecture mirrors the city’s – and the country’s – checkered history. Chinese influence, French inspiration, subsidy phase austerity and modern practicalities have resulted in a compelling jumble of mismatched dwellings. One compelling way to absorb the capital’s architecture is through its lovingly converted cafes. Here are five you simply can’t miss.

Vo Trong Nghia’s Bat Trang House breaks the traditional shophouse mould with two floors dedicated to commerce, several elevated gardens and a ceramic casing inspired by the owners’ artisanal heritage.

Ở trung tâm thủ đô, cả về địa lý và tâm hồn là hồ Hoàn Kiếm, chia trái tim thành phố thành những làn đường và ngõ ngách lộn xộn dẫn tới khu phố cổ ở phía Bắc, và những con phố lớn xanh cây nối tới khu phố Pháp ở phía Nam.

This contemporary take on the traditional Vietnamese shophouse, combining commercial and residential spaces, was created for an affluent artisanal family that produces high-quality ceramic products in Bat Trang