The morning I arrived at the Temple of Literature, a school group was filing out as I was filing in. One kid stopped to rub the head of a stone turtle at the base of a doctoral stele. His teacher pulled him away fast. That moment โ€” the turtle, the stele, the kid’s confused face โ€” told me more about Hanoi than any intro paragraph could.

Here’s where to spend your time, and where not to waste it.