Surviving Ho Chi Minh City Traffic

Tips and tales from our first week in Vietnam

Driving from Saigon airport to our hotel in District 1 of Ho Chi Minh City felt like something straight out of a movie.

I was transfixed by the flashing lights, neon signs all written in the same iconic fonts and small cafes, still pulsing with life and serving coffee into the small hours of the morning. I’d never seen a city like it. Even past midnight, shattered from travel, I was itching to explore.

That would have to wait, though.

We landed late, delayed and exhausted, ready to collapse into a comfy bed. It was my first time in Vietnam, and while I’d done my research, nothing could’ve prepared me for actually living it.

After a quick trip from the airport, our taxi driver expertly zipping between more motorbikes than I knew existed on the face of the earth, we arrived at our hotel.

Fun fact: as of 2024, there were 77 million registered motorbikes on the streets of Vietnam. That’s one bike for over three-quarters of the population.

At least, we thought we’d arrived.

We were dropped outside an inconspicuous little building, paint peeling off the walls with no obvious sign of an entrance, just a Skinny Little Alleyway that I wasn’t entirely convinced my 20-kilogram backpack would fit through.

After a brief investigation, a consult with Google maps, and a few stern words of tired frustration exchanged between Ramiro and me, it became clear that the inconspicuous little building with paint peeling off the walls was, in fact, not our hotel, and my 20 kilogram backpack would simply have to fit down aforementioned Skinny Little Alleyway.

So we squeezed through, our battered backpacks scraping the walls, and emerged into a sensory explosion of local Vietnamese culture.

It was like stepping into the Weasley’s enchanted tent in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

I was overwhelmed by the sounds and smells: locals throwing herbs into steaming bowls of phở, barefoot children splashing about in small puddles in the uneven paving, elderly people dozing in worn armchairs by their windows.

Reminder: it was past midnight. But everything was still just so… alive.

So, we began our traverse down the Skinny Little Alleyway. We were met with toothy grins and friendly nods. One group crowded around a table on blue plastic stools yelled ‘Welcome to Vietnam!,’ and collapsed into laughter when we replied ‘Cảm ơn!’ (Thanks in Vietnamese).

Then came the roar of an engine behind us.

I thought I was experiencing some kind of exhaustion-induced illusion because, as far as I could see, there was no way in or out of this Skinny Little Alleyway other than the Skinny Little way we came in. Certainly too skinny and little for a motorised vehicle.

Imagine my shock when I turned around to see a trio of motorbikes ploughing towards us.

“Well, how’s this going to work, then?” I asked Ramiro as we pressed our backpack-clad backs to the wall.

But sure enough, right before our very eyes, they zipped skilfully past, their handles barely a hair’s breadth from clipping us before zooming off into the night.

We avoided it that time, but I have actually been clipped by cars and motorbikes twice since we’ve been in Vietnam. As a clueless, pedestrian tourist, I take full responsibility for this.

Dumbfounded, questions rattled around in my exhaustion-addled brain. How did those scooters even get in here? How do parents keep their kids safe from bikes when they’re playing in the street? Is it even legal to ride a motorbike down a pedestrian street like this?

I was perplexed, shaken, and ready to save the exploring until the next day.

Whilst the rest of our trek down the Skinny Little Alleyway was largely uninterrupted, I probably should have realised that this would be the start of things to come.

Sure enough, when we stepped out of our hotel the next morning, refreshed and ready to explore, the first thing we heard was the unrelenting honking of horns and the roar of engines tearing up and down the Skinny Little Alleyway.

We quickly realised that surviving the chaos of Ho Chi Minh City would require some careful maneuvering, an abundance of patience, and the serious ability to keep our wits about us.

We had a wonderful time exploring, and if you’re planning a trip, we’re sure you will too. Just keep our survival tips in mind when navigating the lawless labyrinth that is Saigon…

Survival Tip #1: make like Five and Keep on Movin’

And seriously, baby, take a good look around…

Crossing any road in Vietnam seems to be a tourist’s rite of passage.

Zebra crossings are purely decorative. If you wait at one, you’ll be waiting your whole damn life. No-one is stopping to let you cross.

If you cross with the green man, you’ll likely be walking to your death. Traffic light colours seem to be a suggestion rather than a rule.

Nope, you have to step into the road with the confidence of a primary school lollipop lady, hold out a hand to the oncoming traffic and just walk.

Walk, walk, walk, walk, walk and don’t stop until you reach the other side.

We learnt quickly that stopping or hesitating at any point could swiftly lead to our demise, as the motorbikes seem to multiply like the Lernaean Hydra: get past one, 5 more appear.

via GIPHY

The more roads we crossed, the more we realised: the traffic will just flow around us. Hesitating in the middle of the road just confuses the drivers and increases the risk of accident.

Drivers anticipate your movements, so keep your wits about you and maintain a steady pace. You’ll be right as rain.

Survival Tip #2: Oh well, the pavements are safe, right? WRONG.

You’d think it, wouldn’t you? The slabs of concrete laid down specifically for the purpose of being walked on might create a safe haven for the weary, overwhelmed tourist.

Unfortunately not.

It’s common to see motorbikes mounting pavements. Some even drive straight towards you like they might run you off the path. They’re not. Most of the time they’re just looking for a parking spot or rejoining the road, but it can still feel a little confronting for those of us who have grown up in places where pedestrians have priority.

Often there’s no room for pedestrians on the pavement at all. Bikes park perpendicular across the pavements, leaving pedestrians no choice but to step back into the chaos of the road.

The chances of being hurt whilst walking tight to the pavement are slim, but it’s best to proceed with caution. Use the pavement wherever possible and just have a good awareness of what’s going on around you.

Survival Tip #3: Leave. The. Headphones. At. Home

Whilst Vietnamese is, of course, the most widely spoken language in Vietnam, I think the language of the motor vehicle horn comes a close second.

We lost count of the number of times a lone car has blared its horn with no visible reason why.

Of course, we don’t claim to know the ‘why’ behind every honk, beep and hoot, particularly not in a country where it’s such common practice, but we’d be lying if we said it didn’t perplex us now and again

Due to the lack of traffic control in the city, it seems that honking is a way for drivers to let people know they’re around or approaching, which comes in very handy as a pedestrian if you’re hidden around a sharp corner.

It was only after - foolishly - going for a solo walk with the Sonys on that I realised how much I actually depended on my sense of sound. The once-grating honking quickly turned into a comfort blanket I didn’t know I needed.

So, maybe put the headphones on to quiet the chaos, but for the love of God, avoid blasting the One Direction throwbacks (guilty) until you’re safely indoors.

Honestly, it just took a bit of getting used to. It was a matter of days before we became adept at pressing ourselves into the walls of our Skinny Little Alleyway, and crossing the roads truly became easier every time.

Is there a country you’ve travelled to where the traffic has been this chaotic? Do you have any of your own survival tips for navigating the busy streets? We would love to hear them. Drop us a comment, or shoot us a DM.

Catch you next time!

Love

Eloise & Ramiro Xxx Bui Vien Walking Street, Ho Chi Minh City