Ho Chi Minh City Unseen Markets Motorbike Tour with Locals

5.00

(1 reviews)

What’s the experience like?

The first thing I noticed as we zipped out of District 1 was the shift in air—less exhaust, more spice and fruit from the street stalls. Our guide, Linh, waved us into a neighborhood market where vendors called out prices over the hum of scooters. Here, you see real daily life: women haggling for greens, a guy balancing a stack of eggs on his bike, kids darting between stalls. Linh explained how bargaining works here—no fixed prices, just quick smiles and faster math.

Next up: the floating market. We pulled up to the edge of a canal where boats bobbed gently, packed with pineapples and watermelons. Some sellers wore those wide-brimmed hats you see in old photos. Linh handed me a cold coconut juice—honestly, nothing hits better in Saigon’s sticky heat. She pointed out how families live right on their boats, selling and sleeping in the same space.

We cruised down Fashion Street—a wild stretch lined with tiny shops selling everything from knockoff sneakers to wedding dresses. The street buzzed with shoppers bargaining hard; our guide joked that locals never pay full price here. Then came the electricity accessories market—rows of stalls stacked high with wires and switches, some so old they looked like museum pieces.

The motorbike accessories market was next—think endless aisles of chrome mirrors and battered helmets. You could probably rebuild an entire scooter from scratch here if you knew what you were doing (I don’t). Chinatown was a sensory overload: birds chirping at the bird market, bright fabrics flapping in the breeze, lanterns everywhere. We even passed shops selling dried herbs and mysterious roots for Chinese medicine.

Linh led us into the biggest wholesale market built by Chinese Vietnamese businessmen—a maze of boxes and shouting porters. After that came my favorite stop: the flower market. The smell hit me before I saw it—jasmine, roses, lilies all crammed together under tarps. Everyone was snapping photos; it’s impossible not to smile surrounded by all that color.

We cooled off at an old-school coffee shop tucked under faded awnings—iced coffee never tasted so good after riding through midday heat. Last stops: a war objects market filled with relics from both sides of Vietnam’s history (helmets, medals), then an antique market where some items looked older than my grandparents’ house back home.