The First Sound of Tet Is a Broom
Before the fireworks, before the kumquat trees appear on every sidewalk, before anyone has mentioned the word ‘horse’ — there’s sweeping. Every household in Vietnam sweeps out the old year, literally. Dust, clutter, bad luck: all of it goes. By mid-February the whole country smells like floor cleaner and marigolds, which is a stranger combination than you’d expect.
Tet Nguyen Dan — or just Tet — is the Lunar New Year, and in 2026 it falls on February 17. The official holiday runs nine days, from February 14 through February 22, which is generous by any country’s standards. But the buildup starts weeks earlier, when flower markets begin taking over parking lots and intersections, and grocery stores stack banh chung wrappers to the ceiling.
Two Flowers, Two Halves of a Country
The north-south divide in Vietnam is real, and during Tet it shows up in the flowers. Northern families buy hoa dao — peach blossoms, pale pink, sometimes almost white. The branches are gnarled and dramatic, and finding a good one is a competitive sport. In Hanoi, Quang Ba flower market runs all night in the final days before Tet, and the haggling gets intense around 3 AM when the best stock arrives from the countryside.
In the south, it’s hoa mai — yellow apricot blossoms that look like they’ve been dipped in egg yolk. Ho Chi Minh City’s Nguyen Hue Flower Street is the most famous display, and in 2026 it runs from February 15 to 22. This year’s theme is ‘Spring Gathering — Steadfastly Moving Forward,’ which sounds like a government slogan (it probably is), but the actual installation is genuinely impressive: over 100,000 baskets of flowers, a 7-meter bamboo horse sculpture, and for the first time, separate daytime and nighttime versions of the street.
Kumquat trees go everywhere. A good kumquat — lots of fruit, a few still green, the tree not too leggy — costs serious money. You’ll see families strapping them to motorbikes, which never stops being funny.
What 33 Fireworks Sites Looks Like
Hanoi doesn’t do one fireworks show. In 2026, the city approved 33 separate launch sites across its districts, firing a combined total of over 7,700 high-altitude shells and 3,400 low-altitude displays. The main show happens at Hoan Kiem Lake starting at midnight on February 17, with positions set up near the Hanoi Post Office and the Hanoi Moi newspaper building.
The logistics of watching are worth thinking about. Hoan Kiem gets packed hours in advance — by 9 PM the streets around the lake are shoulder-to-shoulder. The fireworks themselves last about 15 minutes, which doesn’t sound long until you see shells going off simultaneously from multiple directions. It’s genuinely disorienting in the best way.
Ho Chi Minh City concentrates its display along the Saigon River, and the rooftop bars in District 1 charge accordingly. Da Nang does its show from the Han River, with the Dragon Bridge lit up as a bonus.
One honest warning: phone signal dies for at least 30 minutes after the show ends. Everyone is trying to call or text at once. Plan a meeting point with your group beforehand.
The Food Is the Point
Tet food deserves its own article, but here’s the short version: everything takes days to prepare, and the preparation is half the tradition.
Banh chung in the north, banh tet in the south — same concept (sticky rice, mung bean, pork, wrapped in leaves, boiled for hours), different shapes. Banh chung is square, wrapped in la dong leaves. Banh tet is cylindrical, wrapped in banana leaves. Families still cook them over wood fires in the days before Tet, and the smell of the boiling pot is one of those sense memories that every Vietnamese person can describe in detail.
Mut — candied fruits and seeds — sits in lacquer boxes on every coffee table. Coconut, ginger, lotus seed, kumquat peel. The ginger ones will clear your sinuses.
Thit kho trung — pork belly braised in coconut water with hard-boiled eggs — is the southern equivalent of comfort food. The sauce is dark, sweet, salty, and goes on everything.
If you’re a traveler, getting invited to a Tet meal is the best thing that can happen to you. It’s also somewhat likely — Vietnamese hospitality during Tet is remarkable. Bring fruit or a box of sweets if you visit someone’s home. Don’t bring anything in sets of four (it sounds like ‘death’ in Vietnamese).
The Shutdown Is Real
Here’s what the tourism brochures underplay: Vietnam largely closes during Tet. Not partially. Closes.
For roughly three to five days around the main holiday (February 16-19 in 2026), most restaurants are shut, many shops are dark, and local transportation schedules go irregular. In smaller cities, you might struggle to find an open pho stall. Convenience stores stay open, thankfully, but selection thins out fast.
Domestic flights and trains sell out weeks in advance because millions of Vietnamese are traveling home to their families. If you haven’t booked by late January, you’re probably out of luck for the peak days. International flights in and out of the country are less affected.
Hotels are a mixed story. The big international chains stay open and staffed. Smaller guesthouses and family-run places may close entirely. Book early through Agoda — they tend to have better Vietnam-specific inventory than the Western-focused platforms, and you can filter for properties that confirm Tet availability.
ATMs run out of cash. I’m not exaggerating. Everyone withdraws money for li xi (red envelopes) in the same week. Hit the ATM before February 14.
Where to Be
Hanoi is the most traditional experience. The Old Quarter gets decorated, the flower markets are within walking distance of most hotels, and the lake fireworks are the main event. The downside: it’s cold. February in Hanoi can be 12-15°C with drizzle, and most budget hotels don’t have great heating.
Ho Chi Minh City is warmer and more commercial. Nguyen Hue Flower Street is the centerpiece, and the city’s restaurants reopen faster than Hanoi’s. Good for travelers who want the atmosphere without the full shutdown experience.
Hoi An turns its lanterns on regardless of Tet, but the ancient town during the holiday is quieter and more personal. Less spectacle, more genuine. The full moon lantern festival falls on March 2 in 2026 — worth combining if your schedule allows.
Hue is worth mentioning because the former imperial capital takes Tet traditions seriously, and the Citadel hosts ceremonies that feel genuinely historical rather than performative.
For activity bookings — cyclo tours, cooking classes, cultural experiences — Klook and KKday both have Vietnam-specific listings, though availability drops sharply during the actual holiday days. Book anything you want to do at least a week out.
What to Wear, What to Bring
Red is good luck. Yellow is good luck. Don’t overthink it — even a red scarf counts. If you’re invited somewhere, err on the side of dressing up slightly.
Bring cash in clean, new bills if possible. Crisp notes go into li xi envelopes, and wrinkled ones are considered bad form. The denomination doesn’t matter as much as the condition.
Sunscreen for the south, a light jacket for the north. Comfortable shoes — you’ll walk more than you expect, especially if you’re navigating the flower markets.
The Year of the Horse
2026 is the Year of the Horse (Binh Ngo / Bính Ngọ in Vietnamese), specifically the Fire Horse. You’ll see horse motifs everywhere — on decorations, candy packaging, flower arrangements, shop displays. The horse symbolizes energy and forward movement, which explains this year’s Nguyen Hue theme about ‘steadfastly moving forward.’
Whether you believe in zodiac significance or not, the iconography is fun. The bamboo horse sculptures in Ho Chi Minh City are worth seeing just as public art.
A week after Tet ends, the decorations come down, the kumquat trees get composted, and the empty banh chung wrappers pile up in the trash. The country goes back to normal with remarkable speed. But for those nine days, Vietnam is somewhere else entirely — louder, more colorful, more generous, and almost entirely closed for business.
