A Little Piece of Vietnamese Culture in France

Sometimes the things that stay with us from an afternoon out are not the things we planned to see.

It might be the way the sunlight falls across an old wooden table, the sound of water nearby, or one tiny detail that makes us stop and look twice.

That happened to me recently while sitting at a little bar beside a lake in France.

The setting was already beautiful. The lake was calm, mountains rose behind the water, and the late-afternoon light gave everything that soft golden colour I love. I had a drink on the wooden table in front of me and was simply enjoying the view.

And then I noticed the vase.

An Unexpected Vietnamese Detail

Sitting quietly on the table was a small blue-and-white ceramic vase with Vietnamese writing on it.

A few dried lavender stems had been placed inside. It was such a simple decoration, yet it immediately caught my attention.

Suddenly, in this little lakeside bar in France, there was something unmistakably Vietnamese in front of me.

I hadn’t gone there looking for a connection to Vietnam. I wasn’t visiting a Vietnamese restaurant or a cultural exhibition. It was simply there, among the wooden tables, glasses, mountains and lavender.

Perhaps that is exactly why I found it so charming.

The Beauty of Vietnamese Ceramics

Ceramics have a long history in Vietnam, from practical objects used in everyday life to beautifully decorated pieces created by generations of skilled craftspeople.

Bowls, tea sets, jars, bottles and decorative objects are familiar sights in Vietnamese homes. Many combine a practical purpose with patterns, calligraphy and designs that give each piece its own character.

Vietnam is also home to centuries-old pottery traditions. Vietnam Tourism’s guide to traditional Vietnamese crafts introduces some of the country’s handmade crafts, including ceramics and the famous pottery village of Bát Tràng.

Blue-and-white ceramics have an especially timeless quality. The colours are simple, but together they create a style that feels both delicate and familiar.

Historic examples of Vietnamese blue-and-white ceramics can even be found in international museum collections, including The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

The vase I found by the lake was not sitting behind museum glass or displayed as something precious.

Someone had simply decided to put dried lavender in it.

And somehow, I loved it even more because of that.

Objects don’t always need to be rare or expensive to be meaningful. Sometimes their beauty comes from being used and becoming part of everyday life.

When Something Familiar Appears Far From Home

Living between different cultures changes the way you notice things.

An object that might seem completely ordinary in one place can suddenly feel special when you encounter it thousands of kilometres away.

Seeing Vietnamese writing beside a French lake gave me that feeling.

For someone else, it might simply have been a pretty blue-and-white vase.

For me, it carried another layer.

It reminded me of Vietnam.

It reminded me of familiar objects, family tables, food, little shops and all those everyday details that are so ordinary when you are surrounded by them that you barely notice them.

Then you find one unexpectedly somewhere else, and suddenly you do.

Vietnam, France and the Little Things Between

One of the things I enjoy most about life in France is discovering these small intersections between places and cultures.

They don’t always happen in grand museums or famous destinations.

Sometimes they appear on a café table.

There was something particularly beautiful about the combination that afternoon: a Vietnamese vase, dried lavender, an old wooden table, a French mountain lake and a glass catching the summer light.

None of it had been arranged for me.

It simply existed together.

These little discoveries are also part of why I enjoy exploring quiet corners of France . You don’t always need a famous monument or a carefully planned itinerary to find something worth remembering.

Sometimes the smallest detail becomes the memory you bring home.

And perhaps that is why this particular scene felt so much like Chez Thao Hoang.

Vietnam and France don’t have to exist as two completely separate worlds. They can meet naturally in everyday life—in food, gardens, objects, memories and quiet moments.

Slow Living Is Also About Noticing

We often think of slow living as doing less.

For me, it is also about noticing more.

It is something I’ve been thinking about as I explore what slow living means to me and how small changes in the way we experience everyday life can make ordinary moments feel more meaningful.

Noticing the light.

Noticing what is growing in the garden.

Noticing the way a meal smells before sitting down to eat.

Noticing an old vase on a table instead of walking straight past it.

Some of my favourite moments of this kind happen at home too—like sitting in the garden with a cup of coffee , writing down recipes, ideas or simply enjoying a few quiet minutes under the trees.

There was nothing extraordinary about this particular afternoon by the lake.

I didn’t have a complicated itinerary or a list of places I needed to visit.

I was simply sitting there.

Yet this small discovery became the part of the afternoon I wanted to photograph and remember.

The Kind of Travel I Love

This is also what I enjoy about slow travel through France .

Of course, there are beautiful monuments, famous cities and places everyone wants to photograph. But some of my favourite travel memories come from much quieter moments.

A village street.

A local market.

A coffee on a terrace.

A conversation.

A beautiful garden.

Or, in this case, a little Vietnamese vase sitting beside a lake.

When we stop rushing from one attraction to another, we leave ourselves more time to notice these details.

And sometimes they tell us more about a place—and about ourselves—than anything we had planned to see.

A Little Piece of Vietnam by the Lake

I don’t know the story of this vase.

I don’t know who brought it to France, how long it has been there, or why someone chose it for that particular table.

And maybe I don’t need to.

I like imagining that it has quietly become part of the life of this little lakeside bar, holding flowers while people sit nearby, talk, drink and watch the mountains reflected in the water.

For a moment, it brought two places I love into the same frame.

A lake in France.

A little Vietnamese vase.

Some dried lavender.

And one peaceful summer afternoon.

Sometimes, a sense of home appears in the most unexpected places.

And sometimes, all it takes is a little blue-and-white vase to make you notice it.

Have you ever found something that reminded you of home in a completely unexpected place? I’d love to hear about it.