Sofia Costa

I land in Hanoi at the end of October, with one bag, one camera, and more film than is sensible. Ten days. I am told the motorbikes are the first thing you learn and the last thing you understand. I plan to cross the street the way locals do: slowly, steadily, without changing my mind halfway.

My plan is mostly mornings. Hoan Kiem Lake at sunrise, when the city does tai chi and badminton along the water. The Old Quarter before the shutters go up. Street food on low plastic stools, which I hear are lower than my knees would like.