A tranquil new escape awaits on the banks of the Thu Bon River.

Photographs by Christopher P. Hill

*Left to right:* The Cao Lau Noodles cocktail at The Merchant restaurant; the pool of one of Namia River Retreat’s river-facing villas.

It’s the week before Tet and the narrow streets of Hoi An’s ancient quarter are heaving. More than a decade has passed since my last visit to this once strategic river port on Vietnam’s central coast, and, pandemic aside, tourism has clearly been booming. Little wonder, really: between the 15th and 19th centuries, Hoi An served as an entrepôt for Chinese, Japanese, and European traders plying the spice route, and its well-preserved mix of temples, clan houses, merchant residences, and lantern-hung shop fronts, their facades invariably daubed a cheerful shade of yellow, is undeniably beguiling. Designated a UNESCO World Heritage site back in 1999, Hoi An’s historic town center has since become a fixture on Vietnam’s must-see list. And boy, does it get crowded.

What a relief, then, to be able to withdraw to the sedate confines of Namia River Retreat. Located some 10 minutes by car (or 20 by shuttle boat, if you’d rather) downstream from Hoi An proper, the area’s newest five-star property is the sole occupant of a slender, kilometer-long estuarine islet just off the north bank of the Thu Bon River, not far from where the waterway empties into the South China Sea. If not quite bucolic, the setting seems a world away from the bustle of town. The only other tourists you’re likely to spot are those riding the bamboo basket boats that bob along the islet’s palm-fringed back channel.

Namia is billed as Hoi An’s first all-pool-villa resort, but it distinguishes itself in many other ways besides. Apart from the unique location — arriving guests are welcomed at a reception pavilion on the mainland before being whisked by buggy across a short bridge to one of 60 standalone villas — this five-hectare bolt-hole eschews the typical old-town architectural themes for an aesthetic inspired more by the river and the countryside. The organic design features gently curving rooflines shaped like the inverted hull of a traditional fishing boat, with soffits and ceilings of handcrafted rattan. Villas (some of which have two bedrooms) either face the back channel with its thicket of nipa palms, or look across the river to Cam Nam Island in the Thu Bon delta, with soft color schemes and framed monochrome photos that reflect their respective views. Materials sourced from nearby craft villages feature throughout, and complimentary minibars are stocked with local snacks (roasted cashews; dried mango) and a selection of coffees from across the country. The landscaping may still be somewhat sparse (Namia soft-opened just a few weeks before my mid-January visit), but the sense of place is so firmly rooted as to be almost tangible.

*Left to right:* A bed in one of the resort’s 60 villas; Namia staffer Phat Truong cycling through Hoi An’s old town.

Owner Tran Thanh Nam, whose Bhaya Group operates the largest cruise line in Halong Bay, grew up surrounded by wetlands in northern Vietnam, and his memories of village life imbue the look and feel of the property. His vision was realized by locally based hotel and spa consultancy Lumina Wellbeing (the company’s South African founder, Michelle Ford, doubles as Namia’s general manager), which has elevated the resort’s wellness game without hitting guests over the head with it.

Not long after checking in, I am escorted to the Lumina Spa — a curvy, thatched-roofed affair set midway along the islet — for a 90-minute “wellness journey” that is included with each night’s stay. After selecting the ingredients for a body scrub at an apothecary-style herb counter, I’m led to a steamy hammam room for the treatment. Then it’s upstairs for a deep-tissue massage that leaves me feeling as loose and fluid as the river outside the window.

There are numerous other therapies on the spa menu that take inspiration from Vietnam’s herbology traditions, alongside cupping, acupressure, and a homegrown facial reflexology technique called dien chan. Guests are also welcome to partake in morning movement exercises, silent walking meditation, and sessions in the spa’s riverside sauna and cold plunge pool. (The honeymoon suite at the far tip of the islet comes with a sauna room of its own.) When evening descends, staff can draw a bath infused with lemongrass and citrus in your bedroom’s sunken tub.

For those who prioritize sustainability, Namia River Retreat ticks numerous boxes. Apart from its bioclimatic design, water treatment systems, and zero-plastic policy, the resort is big on local food sourcing — with delicious results. There are two restaurants here: The Fisherman, set back from the main swimming pool with aqua tones and fish-shaped tables and a seafood-centric menu; and The Merchant, which takes up a curving section of the mainland building with tables that spill out onto a riverside terrace. The latter serves tasty renditions of Vietnamese flavors and ingredients, starting with a buffet breakfast that spotlights local producers: burrata and charcuterie from Hoi An Salaisons, buttery croissants from Em’s Bakery; duck pho and congee made with poultry sourced from farms along the river. “Only the olives and anchovies come from abroad,” the chef proudly confirms.

Dinner highlights range from claypot-braised pork belly with banana blossom to Cham Islands scallops in yuzu vinaigrette. There’s also an inventive collection of cocktails inspired by Hoi An’s street food. One is a sweet number that riffs off the sticky-rice confection known as banh xoai (“mango cake”). Another, made with rice whiskey, char siu sauce, lemon, and soy, offers a strange and savory salute to the iconic Hoi An noodle dish cao lau.

*Left to right:* Duck glazed with tamarind and citrus jus at The Merchant restaurant; a sauna with a view at Namia River Retreat’s Lumina Spa.

For all its sense of retreat, Namia is not just about cloistered comforts. The resort has devised a range of cultural excursions aimed at connecting guests with the locale, including a sunrise bike ride through Hoi An’s old town. This, for me, is the best time to visit the area, before the shops and sites have opened and when the waking lanes are mercifully quiet. I’m guided by a game young staffer named Phat, who navigates us through the neighborhood’s patinaed yellow streetscape to his favorite banh mi shop for a crunchy morning snack.

The next morning, I’m back on the bike with a different guide for a pedal through Hoi An’s rural outskirts to meet Grandma Hanh, a traditional healer and herbalist. Roadsides flutter with gold-starred red flags planted in anticipation of the Tet holidays as we make our way past freshly sown rice fields, stopping en route to inspect a series of grassy tombs attributed to members of the Ho family, who, according to a brass plaque, made it rich in the 19th century trading swiftlet nests.

Grandma Hanh is a participant in Namia’s “meet a local” program, which will soon include personalized encounters with artisans and farmers as well. A feisty septuagenarian with just a few crooked teeth, she welcomes us into the courtyard of her village home and shows us the wood-fired stove and big clay mortars she uses to prepare her herbal remedies, mostly in the form of infusions. She also explains, via translation, the various medicinal qualities of the fresh leaves piled on a tabletop: longan leaf for improving sleep; licorice leaf for reducing inflammation; gai khi (monkey thorn) for better blood pressure. Before we depart, Grandma Hanh treats me to a surprisingly vigorous shoulder and neck massage, correctly discerning a sciatica issue that troubled me years ago. Then she sends me on my way with a pat on the rump.

Back in my villa, I thumb through a book left beside the bed. It’s Peace is Every Step, by the late Vietnamese Zen master and poet Thich Nhat Hanh. In one meditation about the course of a river as it approaches the sea, he writes, “When she opened her heart completely to the evening sky she received the image of the full moon — beautiful, round, like a jewel within herself. She had never imagined that she could receive such a beautiful image.”

Tonight, the moon above the Thu Bon is waning, but it’s a fitting sentiment nonetheless.

Herbalist Grandma Hanh; a detail of Namia River Retreat’s Lumina Spa. — *Left to right:* Herbalist Grandma Hanh; a detail of Lumina Spa.

namiariverretreat.com; villas from US$700 a night, including breakfast, daily wellness journeys, and cultural excursions.

This article originally appeared in the March/May 2025 print issue of DestinAsian magazine (“Downstream Delights”).

Namia River Retreat is a Blissful Hoi An Hideout

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