WORDS BY MARK EKE
On perspective, the passage of time, and the beauty of seeing the world differently.
I’ve always believed that one of the greatest privileges of travel is the opportunity to experience a world beyond the one we’ve constructed for ourselves. Not simply to discover unfamiliar places, but to challenge the perspectives we’ve grown comfortable with, often without even realising it. Hanoi reminded me of that.
My first visit to Vietnam was an introduction to a city where history and modernity coexist in the most fascinating ways. There was an undeniable energy to its streets, an intricate mix of movement, culture, and tradition that seemed to unfold at a rhythm entirely its own. Coming from Dubai, a city so often defined by its pursuit of what comes next, I found myself drawn to a place where the past remained such a visible part of the present. Although, judging by the fact that I somehow walked into the same Uniqlo at least three times the entire trip, perhaps some things really are universal.
Perhaps nowhere did I feel the weight of the city’s history more profoundly than during a visit to the Temple of Literature. Founded in 1070, the historic complex has stood through nearly a millennium of Vietnamese history. Walking through its courtyards, I found myself thinking about everything that had happened since its creation. The generations that had come and gone, the dynasties that had risen and fallen, the conflicts that had reshaped the country, and the countless individual lives that had unfolded within that passage of time. There was something extraordinary about standing somewhere that had witnessed so much history while realising how fleeting our own place within it really is.
It made me think about the significance we assign to our everyday concerns. The deadlines, the expectations, the milestones we convince ourselves we need to reach. Things that can feel all-consuming in the moment, yet become almost insignificant when considered against the scale of history. It wasn’t a question of whether our ambitions mattered, but rather how much of ourselves we allowed them to consume.
That sense of perspective followed me throughout my stay at Fairmont Hanoi, the brand’s first property in Vietnam, tucked into the heart of the historic Old Quarter. There was something particularly fitting about staying somewhere that embraced both the city’s heritage and its contemporary ambitions. The rooms were beautifully considered, with subtle references to Vietnamese artistry, generous natural light, and a sense of comfort that made returning after a day of exploring feel like a pleasure in itself. But what I appreciated most was the service. Attentive without being intrusive, warm without feeling rehearsed, and full of the small gestures that can make all the difference when you’re far from home. And then, of course, there was the food.
I’ve always thought that one of the best ways to understand a place is through what people eat. Vietnamese cuisine, with its fresh ingredients, delicate balance of flavours, and deeply rooted traditions, was something I was particularly excited to explore. And Fairmont Hanoi certainly made that easy. Tran Dynasty was a game changer. Between the prawn crackers, the noodles, and the sheer pleasure of discovering flavours I hadn’t experienced quite like that before, it was the kind of meal that makes you immediately start thinking about when you can return. The hotel’s culinary offering also extends to Hiryu, its Japanese restaurant, and Bacco, its Italian dining destination.
Of course, being away from home didn’t mean taking a break from training. With HYROX Paris preparations well underway, I was determined to keep some semblance of my routine intact, and the fitness facilities at Fairmont Hanoi made that surprisingly easy. Fully equipped with Technogym machines, enough treadmills to host a small run club, and even wall balls for my conditioning sessions, it felt as though I’d never left my usual training environment. My new WHOOP, paired with the Meridian band (which, might I add, doubled as a rather fashionable accessory), also came along for the ride, helping me keep track of my training, recovery, and the inevitable strain of balancing workouts with long days of exploring. My trainer, naturally, was more than pleased that a trip halfway across the world hadn’t given me an excuse to skip any of my sessions.
The perfect counterpart to those workouts was Cirua Spa, where an afternoon in the bathhouse offered an entirely different kind of experience. While sharing a sauna with two strangers, one from Malaysia and another from Vietnam, a passing conversation evolved into a discussion about life in Dubai and Southeast Asia, the different ways we experience time, and how profoundly our environments shape our expectations. We spoke about the pace of our respective cities and how easily we become accustomed to the urgency of our everyday lives. What struck me wasn’t necessarily anything groundbreaking that was said, but the realisation that so much of what we consider normal is simply a reflection of the world we’ve grown accustomed to. It was a small exchange, but one that captured something I had been feeling throughout the trip.
We spend so much of our lives looking ahead that we rarely consider the bigger picture. Yet Hanoi, through its history, its people, its food, and even its more fleeting encounters, offered a reminder that there are countless ways to experience the world, and no single perspective through which to measure the importance of our own lives.
Perhaps that’s what makes travel so valuable. Beyond the destinations we visit or the experiences we collect, it offers us the rare opportunity to examine our own lives from somewhere outside of them. And in many ways, Fairmont Hanoi became part of that discovery, not only through its hospitality, but through the spaces it created for unfamiliar experiences, spontaneous conversations, and a deeper connection with the city around it.
I left Hanoi with a deeper appreciation for its history, its people, and the many ways in which culture shapes our understanding of the world. From wandering through centuries-old courtyards to the unexpected conversations and moments of hospitality at Fairmont Hanoi, each experience offered a different perspective on the things we so often take for granted.
Perhaps that is the greatest gift of travel. The opportunity to step outside our own realities, reconsider the importance we assign to our everyday concerns, and return home with a slightly different understanding of the world and our place within it.
