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shrines and sculptures were genuinely im- An Bang Beach. My back had gone out on
pressive. Eventually, I gave in and let the day one, but thanks to Tiger Balm and a
persistent keeper of the flame light my joss few $12 hot stone massages at the conve-
stick. The 5,000 Dong tip (about 20 cents) niently located spa on the ground floor of
seemed to annoy him more than it pleased. my accommodations, I recovered enough
Taking a breather, I to explore the neighbor-
landed on a Coca-Cola– hood. The swaying palm
sponsored marble bench. trees, warm sands and
The Pause That Refreshes. sea, and plentiful seafood
Lighting the incense restaurants were reminis-
turned out to be good cent of the laid-back
karma. As I exited the re- charm of the Mexican Riv-
turn elevator, a fleet of iera.
tour buses had just ar-
rived, unloading hundreds Hanoi, Tam Cốc, and
of selfie-stick–wielding Northern Soul
tourists at the entrance.
Just 40 minutes away Flying out of Da Nang,
lies another UNESCO gem: I landed in the heart of
the Ancient Town of Hoi Hanoi’s Reunification and
An. Known for its lantern- Labor Day, recently ex-
lit canals and a blend of panded by the Vietnamese
French colonial, Viet- government to five days
namese, Chinese, and Ja- of madness. The Old
panese influences, it’s also Quarter was a scooter-fu-
home to hundreds of eled mosh pit of honking
restaurants, souvenir mayhem. Narrow French
shops, and tailor bou- colonial streets over-
tiques. But the favorite flowed with local families
find? Mezcal Cocteleria—a on holiday and interna-
hidden mezcal bar tucked behind an un- tional backpackers on a mission.
marked door. Crossing the street was terrifying, exhil-
For an aficionado of Mexican spirits, arating, and—unfortunately—necessary in
this was gold (thankfully not Cuervo Gold). my quest to locate a pub called Northern
The bartender, Hung, and I hit it off, trad- Soul. The name references a little-known
ing stories and toasting with smoky agave dance and music scene that emerged from
in a spot that felt like Oaxaca had been air- industrial England in the late ’60s and early
dropped into Southeast Asia. ’70s. Northern Soul is built around obscure
Tony and I also succumbed to the lure American R&B and Motown-style tracks—
of custom tailoring. He walked away with a songs that never quite charted but some-
chameleon-like green-blue suit for a wed- how made their way into the hearts (and
ding. I opted for a charcoal gray bamboo- dance halls) of the British working class.
linen leisure outfit—somewhere between Having only recently discovered the
Miami Vice and a Cabo retiree on perma- genre, spotting this pub in the Old Quarter
nent happy hour. via Google Maps felt downright serendipi-
After dodging tourists and enduring tous. Perched on the fourth floor above the
multiple fittings, I sought refuge at nearby bedlam of aptly named Beer Street, North-
86 WINE DINE & TRAVEL MAGAZINE SUMMER 2025
