Hanoi, or Ha Noi if you prefer, capital of Vietnam since Uncle Ho said so.
Simplistically put, where as Saigon was the city of hustle, progress and action, Hanoi was viewed as calm, cultural and traditional.
Cool as less humid, the city lakes lend it an almst provincial feel.
Ancient tempples and pagodas, and palace buildings are the mainstay of a tourist agenda here.
I should have seen it in 1993, but a motorcycle breakdown north of Hue, followed by a wee dummy spit, ended that journey.
Now of course, the Instagram set have arrived, framing the carefully manicured shots around Hanoi's pastel coloured past.
The street food scene is genuinely good.
And Hanoi serves as a gateway to the north's multitude of attractions, from Ha Giang to Halong.
Like its southern sister, Ha Noi is a crowded city of tall book-shelf terraces, businesses spilling from the premises onto the footpath.
Development has been less rushed, and more of Hanoi's historic districts have been spared.
The traffic doesn't reach the spaghetti-esque levels of the south, and tourist numbers are about 1/4 less than for Saigon.
Instagram has elevated a once gritty, down-trodden shanty strip, to a must see attraction: train street.
Cafes and tat shops buttress the rail tracks, where tourists wait and jostle for pics of the train tooting by their noses. I couldn't be bothered waiting.
I much more enjoyed seeing the bustle one the streets of the market districts
Found at the base of the bridge over the Red River, Long Bien Market is one of the largest, dealing mostly in foods. Didn't see other tourists there.
Most of the old city district from the bridge to Hoan Kiem Lake is really a big market though.
You never know what you'll find, like this octopus-like citrus fruit, known as Buddha's hand. It contains no flesh.
Walking around the old city streets is quite easy, easy to get lost, but there is half the fun.
Most of the streets bear the name of their trade: silver, paper decorations, silk, copper, bamboo, etc.
Most of the streets still ply their original goods, like traditional medicines in Phố Thuốc Bắc.
Roving traders still meander the streets, carrying bamboo poles, pushing wagons, or balancing impossibly loaded bicycles.
And like all good Vietnamese cities, you're never far from a coffee or a bowl of noodles where the meat melts on your chopsticks.
Founded 1,000 years ago, and reconstructed in the 18th century, Bach Ma temple is right in the old city.
It's calm among the chaos, ornate and elegant, but not a grand monument that fills you with awe.
Quan Thanh Temple, south of Tay Ho Lake was another we visited. We skipped the famed One-Pillar pagoda, as it involved queueing, security and other hassles.
Often visiting these, and to be fair, most Mahāyāna Buddhist temples is somewhere to pop in as we walk around a city.
As the cliche goes, getting there is half the fun....often nearly all the fun, viewing the goings on of the streets.
I don't remember where I was headed when I chanced upon this flower seller cycling by.
This old cafe faces Tay Ho lake, and made a pleasant stop. Not sure what is oldest, the proprietor, the shop or his collection of audio gear.
Hanoi's street are full of colour and life. Barbers by day, bia hoi and other eateries at night.
IS this small temple famous? I have no idea, but with the trader in her conical hat, the scene could not be more Vietnamese.
A case of better late than never for me, but Hanoi is deserving of a bouquet.