Bill Bailey’s review of Vietnam – A tour of temples, tourist traps… and a strange, eerie silence | television

TThis was the time when Michael Palin was the only famous travel presenter – and if watching this charming sweet talker on his way to ships wasn’t your bag, well, tough. These days there are celebrity-oriented travel stories to suit every taste and inclination. Want giddy joy? Sandi Toksvig has you covered. Spot of Sark? That would be Richard Ayoade. And if you’re looking for a smart introvert with a dash of “can’t I just sit down?” connection, Bill Bailey is your man. It’s not a brand that would succeed everywhere but in this six-part series, it is in Vietnam, where the population has an infectious warmth and a low tolerance for complaining.

Cycling through lush rice paddies in the first of many shots of Vietnam’s magnificent landscape, Billy says he will explore a country that, just over 50 years after the end of the Vietnam War, is “moving forward to meet the demands of a globalized world.” [while] “It’s still dealing with the legacy of its turbulent past.” His journey will take in bustling Hanoi, Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon), Dalat, rural Sapa and Ha Long Bay. But first up is Hoi An, where the lantern-lit streets of the historic old town are filled with selfies, and the entrepreneurship of local merchants, many of whom still practice the crafts that made the city an important trading port in the 16th century, helps boost the country’s economy. It’s the perfect embodiment of the elegant old setting (if noted). (sometimes excessively) for display.

In the time-honored travel tradition, Billie meets locals to explore Hoi An’s history and culture. During the process of fitting a bespoke suit, we learn about the city’s world-famous tailors. On Man Tai Beach, Billy rides a traditional basket boat – essentially a floating vessel – which he believes was created by fishermen to avoid paying the tax imposed on boats during French colonial rule.

In the Thanh Ha pottery village, the potters’ wheels are kept turning by constant pushing from the feet of a designated helper, as if they were riding a motorcycle covered in clay. After meeting 88-year-old Nguyen Ngo, who has been making pottery for 70 years and has no intention of stopping, Billy notes that this is a culture where “age is no barrier to feeling useful.” Another insightful reflection comes when he encounters a group of Buddhist monks who buy live fish from beach vendors in Man Tai, then release them back into the wild: “[There are] “There are two sides to life here and they both make perfect sense,” Billy muses in the waves. “It’s the kind of balance that’s strangely comforting.”

The places where he feels least comfortable are during the chats themselves. It’s friendly to a fault but lacks Alison Hammond’s ability to conjure immediate rapport, so untold stories are sometimes left hanging in awkward silence. Billy is sometimes overshadowed by the more strenuous activities: his quips about being sucked into the basket boat come with a dash of exasperation. Naturally, nearby fishermen find it funny. But his patchy face can be really refreshing and useful. The lantern rituals in Hội An, where people rent boats and release lanterns into the Thu Bồn River, are a stunning sight. It also looks like a big nightmare of a tourist trap. “This is very exhausting,” Billy says as he struggles to get to the boat, before giving up and warning that the magic of the ritual has been somewhat lost.

Fortunately, there are peaceful temple complexes you can visit as well. It’s beautiful – the 4th-century Mỹ Sơn Temple, which was the religious and political capital of the Hindu-Buddhist Champa kingdom for most of its existence, is nestled in the mountains, while the Buddhist Linh Ung Pagoda complex overlooks the sparkling South China Sea. Billy is in his element, carefully deconstructing the changing dynasties and religions of Vietnam’s history, and showcasing his excerpts from the wilderness. He outwits (and completely triumphs over) a group of large macaques – the “monkey mafia” – who have taken over the Linh Ung Pagoda and are sitting around eating ice cream in the form of slices of watermelon. It’s a fun series. Others, like seeing a picture of Billy and then drawing a butterfly, add less.

However, the real star of the episode is undoubtedly Chef Tran Thanh Duc, who was put by his parents on a refugee boat to the United States during the war when he was 16, and who now owns three restaurants in Hoi An. Charismatic in his tie-dye jacket and fedora, he takes Billy on a tour of the centuries-old Man Tai food market, winking at market vendors he’s known for 21 years — though apparently not by name. “I know all these women,” he tweets. “I know the coconut lady, I know the one flowers, I know the spices.” They’re back again, and I’m convinced I will be too: just call me ‘first TV reviews’. Later, while preparing ceviche, he shared his inspiring story. “He went through turmoil and came out with something great,” Bailey says. “He’s like the embodiment of Vietnam.” A final, decisive thought, and perhaps evidence that the success of this series will be in its owners.