Vietnam is the new Thailand. You get incredible history, magical landscapes, deserted white beaches, top colonial hotels and wonderful spas. You find bustling cities – some surpassingly beautiful with the faded elegance of the French colonial era – ancient temples, pagodas and haunting relics of the Vietnam War.

You haggle in colourful markets piled with dry shrimps and Buddhist artefacts, and swipe your plastic in sophisticated shops selling silk clothes and embroidered linens. Then stop to eat delicious street food such as pho (beef broth with noodles) and nem (delicate rice flour rolls filled with glass noodles, shrimps and coriander). You can walk amid pole carriers laden with dragon fruits, or try a three-wheeled cyclo pedicab. If you want to follow in my family’s intrepid footsteps, below is a round-up of destinations and hotels visited during our time in Vietnam.

1) The Sofitel Metropole, Hanoi

The spot: Perfectly situated in the French Quarter, just by the Opera House. It’s near the Old Quarter and Hoan Kiem Lake.

Why stay here: It’s one of the last great historic hotels in Asia. The 1901 Metropole offers French colonial elegance in the old wing and after the $20 million renovations finished last year, a zingy new Opera Wing. They’re virtually separate hotels in character and even have independent lobbies. In the old Metropole Wing there’s traditional furniture, ceiling fans and an old-fashioned shoe-shine service on offer; in the new wing, it’s a bold, contemporary look which slightly misfires. But there are nice touches like a choice of five pillows – doll’s house-sized models of which are popped on your bed for you to choose. Everyone gathers around the courtyard pool to sunbathe and eat fruit kebabs. And if you want history, there’s even a bunker under the poolside Bamboo Bar. Try Le Spa (the only luxury spa in the city) in a double treatment room then have a green-tea-and-bamboo-shoot facial followed by a Sacred Flower Scrub.

Don’t miss: The exquisite 1070 Temple of Literature, Vietnam’s first university and the Confucian temple with its five courtyards, ornamental gateways, stone stelae and red lacquer pillars. And the Thang Long Water Puppet Theatre for shows from hidden puppeteers standing in waist-high water and musicians on instruments made from dried watermelon.

Retail therapy: Propaganda posters from the Pham Manh gallery. Mangosteen and longan from pole carriers with conical hats and baskets

Must eat: The lotus blossom and bamboo shoot salad at the hotel’s elaborate buffet lunch at Spices Garden. And chocolate teas prepared by their Maitre Chocolatier – think chocolate fondue and chocolate jelly. Otherwise go to Bobby Chinn’s restaurant. He’s South East Asia’s culinary TV star. His temporary restaurant is in his home and it offers bordello décor and global cuisine. Try the lotus-leaf-wrapped caramel ginger chicken and sticky rice.

2) Halong Jasmine junk, Halong Bay

The spot: Breathtaking scenery at UNESCO world heritage site of Halong Bay. Think a seascape of strange-shaped outcrops, caves and coves. The area covers 580 square miles with more than 2,000 limestone pinnacles, pillars and dolomite outcrops scattered across it. Legend has it that a gigantic dragon careered into the sea and created the fantastical islets by lashing its tail in the Gulf of Tonkin. A more conservative view is that they’re the result of erosion over millennia. It’s a place that gets poets’ juices going and inspires artists, who see everything from monks to gods in the rocks and dragons’ lairs in the caves. Halong Jasmine cruises in Lan Ha Bay and anchors at night near 690 island. The brochures and guidebooks make it sound amazing, which it is. But it’s also fantastically touristy.

Why stay here: It’s a traditional junk with fan-shaped golden sails apparently dipped in vegetable dye for protection. But it also has air-con and three floors and sun deck. (At 55 metres long and 11 metres wide, it’s Halong Bay’s largest junk.) There’s polished woodwork, 1930s style Indochine décor and 24 cabins with comfy beds and ensuite shower rooms. It even has a spa. There’s plenty to occupy the water-borne tourists from a welcome drink on boarding to the cooking demo, spa treatments and T’ai Chi on the upper deck at 7am. But I couldn’t help thinking I was on a floating version of a luxury coach.

Don’t miss: Going on a bamboo sampan rowed by a lady in a conical hat to visit Cua Van, the floating village. It has houseboats, a school, pig-pens and tourist-weary residents. Residents live as many as three generations to a room. Later, shuffle with the queues through Sung Sot cave which is larger than most Knightsbridge flats.

Retail therapy: Tourist rubbish and pearls on the mainland and vendors in boats trying to flog shells and wicker hats.

Must eat: The seafood lunch on board, unless you’re going to swim 50km for an alternative.

3) La Residence, Hue

The spot: On the Perfume River with floating dragon boats and sampans, overlooking the ancient Citadel.

Why stay here: La Residence was a former annex to the French governor’s house (the French governor of Annam – now Central Vietnam). The original 1930s house has been sympathetically restored and expanded with two comfortable modern wings and Art Deco-style pieces and fixtures. Think a bowed, nautical facade, high ceilings and pieces that speak of the Jazz Age to the 1950s. There are suites with terraces big enough to build a village and four-posters with mosquito nets. Bedrooms are comfy and many have outstanding views. The lobby is set around Le Gouverneur bar – a bar with Art Deco type murals at the heart of the hotel. There’s a slightly run-down 30-metre saltwater pool in a lush courtyard garden which is great for cooling off from the overwhelming humidity. Near the pool is Le Spa, which has seven treatment rooms. Packages are designed by Italy’s Comfort Zone but the therapists are Vietnamese. I started with ginger and honey tea and ended with a sublime four-handed massage.

Don’t miss: Anything: the Imperial City, royal palaces, pagodas, tombs, statues of Mandarin warriors, dynastic bronze funerary urns and ancient bronze cauldrons. There’s also the Thien Mu Pagoda which still has Thich Quang Duc’s rusty blue Austin. (He was the Buddhist monk who self-immolated in response to persecution.)

Retail therapy: ‘Rolex’ watches ($25) from the Dong Ba Market and conical ‘brushes’ of yellow and red incense.

Must eat: The hotel food doesn’t quite pass muster but for a trip down student-backpacking memory lane, go to Mr Cu’s Mandarin Cafe. It’s one of those places that draws Lonely Planet souls in search of banana pancakes and Vietnamese rice dishes. His charming, naturalist photographs of Vietnamese rural life on the walls are for sale.

4) The Nam Hai, Hoi An

The spot: Miami-meets-Cancun coastline. The resort is hidden from this on a deserted 35-hectare golden stretch of Hoi An Beach overlooking fishing boats bobbing on the China Sea. It’s just 10 minutes from Hoi An, another UNESCO world heritage site.

Why stay here: The Nam Hai is a top chilling option combining haute design with stunning views. It has a manicured resort of 100 almost-Aman villas (Adrian Zecha is a non exec board member) designed by Paris architect Reda Amalou. Villas have chic, contemporary Asian décor by interior decorator Jaya Ibrahim. Think Lombok-style with elegant dark woods, bronze and taupe silks, and moody lighting. The other bathroom opens onto courtyard with alfresco shower. The design and décor brings on a dose of Zen serenity. Choose an Ocean Villa rather than a Pool Villa for better views. Some have private infinity pools edging onto the beach and they’re spacious – even a one-bed villa is 860 sq foot. They come with private butlers and Phuong, our butler, unpacks and packs for us, sorts our laundry and serves us meals by the pool. There are buggies to transport you to the fitness pavilion, tennis, badminton and basket ball courts, as well as the library, kiddies’ club or one of three huge pools leading down to the sea. If you’re feeling pamper-hungry, go harem-style in Le Spa and have a double-handed massage followed by a bathing ceremony in scented water strewn with petals – and look out on flames burning in cauldrons along the lake.

Don’t miss: Great cookery classes with the chef, Binh, after 3km bike ride to buy produce from the local market. (I can now make a mean fresh rice noodles with prawns and a banana blossom salad.) Also take a walking tour in Hoi An with Luong Chinh, a charming English-speaking guide. See the 18th century merchants’ houses, the Japanese Covered Bridge, the Old Quarter, Chinese temples and hundreds of tailors.

Retail therapy: Hand-hammered, patinated bronze bowls with 24k gold leaf interiors from the resort’s shop. Simple tailoring from Yali in Hoi An, which can be made in a couple of days.

Must eat: Go to the restaurant in the resort for Vietnamese specialities such as fish on sugar cane ‘sticks’ and fresh spring rolls. The breakfasts are also excellent: rice congee to vitamin shooters, pomelo marmalade and canary-yellow eggs any which way. In Hoi An try The Cargo Club Restaurant for delicate rice flour dumplings and sesame-crusted tuna.

5) Six Senses Hideaway, Ninh Van Bay

The spot: You’d be hard-pushed to find anywhere more beautiful. It’s on a peninsula which feels like an island because it’s accessible only by boat. There’s nothing nearby, just towering mountains behind, coral-strewn beach in front and views of the South China Sea, Ninh Van Bay and the Hon Heo mountains. The owners have even rented 50,000 square metres of sea in front of the resort to ensure that no noisy boats obstruct the view or disturb the peace.

Why stay here: It really is a no news, no Louboutins (or indeed any shoes) place. Even resort time is set one hour ahead of Hanoi time to allow guests to enjoy more daylight. There are 58 villas, all with private pools and delightfully dotted among the hills, on beach and over rocks. The interior décor is rustic chic with a wooden bath tub and bathroom open to a courtyard with alfresco shower. We walked out of our door of our Beach Villa onto golden sands. But I loved the Spa Suite Villa too – a hilltop villa with its own spa area and stunning views. (You climb about 70 steps to get there.) The Presidential Villa – two beds at $2,800 – is where Prince William and Kate Middleton stayed. We shower to the clicking of geckos, Duc monkeys come down close to the restaurant and sea eagles hover above. Nearby snorkelling is not yet great as the coral reefs with which the resort is fringed are mostly dead. The spa offers holistic treatments in rooms hewn in rocks and forest to the sounds of cicadas and birds. It has blissful bamboo walls, thatched shower and towels on rails made of branches. The very un-local Lomi Lomi (Hawaiian massage based on an ancient Shamanic rite of passage) is great. The new GM promises great things but he’ll need a good English teacher and a big new broom. Service can be rural and, luckily, a new chef is en route, too.

Don’t miss: The visit to lobster farm on a local fishing boat (kitted out with bamboo roof and white-towel-covered mattresses) then a BBQ lunch on the beach.

Must eat: Have a private dinner in the wine cave dotted with tea lights, or a BBQ lunch on a deserted beach. We were looked after beautifully by a private staff of two boatmen, one chef and a waiter.

6) Park Hyatt, Saigon

The spot: Near the 19th-century post office (still in use) and the 19th century Notre Dame Cathedral in a city that is an economic powerhouse.

Why stay here: It’s an unbeatable oasis in a city of eight million people and four million motorbikes. The Park Hyatt Saigon is built in faux-colonial style. It also has French-colonial-inspired décor, a great outdoor pool and 24-hour butler on every floor. The hotel is run with consummate professionalism and slick service. The GM, an Australian called Michael Golden, has the golden touch. There’s a good jazz performer every night in the lounge. HCMC has a staggering number of hotels but this one is said to beat them all.

Don’t miss: The grimly fascinating War Remnants Building in the former US Information Service building. Also 25 miles northwest are the Cu Chi tunnels – used by the Viet Cong for guerilla warfare and mounting surprise attacks. Built at different levels, they extended for more than 125 miles.

Retail therapy: Catherine Denoual for beautiful French-style bed and table linen by a French woman living in Ho Chi Minh City and Apricot Gallery for contemporary Vietnamese artists. Saigon Square for fake Converses (£6 a pair).

Must eat: Superlative Vietnamese street-food-inspired cuisine at the hotel’s Saigon Square One restaurant. Try the soft shell crabs with coconut, ginger and tamarind; shrimps on sugar cane; beef rolls with la lot (wild betel) leaf and five spices; and sea bass with lotus leaves. Then palm sugar ice-cream, passion fruit sorbet and warm coconut brownies. Have it with local beer or fresh juices – from guava to sour sop (like custard apple) and small, sweet fresh coconut. Also incredible buffet breakfasts in the Opera Restaurant, which is trattoria-style and overlooks Lam Son Square.

There are few more curious spectator sports than vomiting to order. But I have swallowed a litre and a half of warm, salty water — glugging seven glasses in rapid succession under the watchful gaze of my yoga teacher, Sandeep Aggrawalla. (Early in the morning and on an empty stomach and after breathing deeply.) Then I’ve tickled the back of my throat with my fingers. And now I’m throwing up like an elephant, puking saline water in one huge wave. “You’re a natural,” Sandeep enthuses.

The aim of Kunjal (as voluntary regurgitation is known) is to cleanse the stomach, oesophagus, throat, lungs and chest. It’s said to wash out strong acid and excess mucous and, in yogic therapy, it plays a key role in alleviating asthma and preventing ulcers. It takes me about ten minutes, but a pro can do it daily in three. Frankly, it leaves me feeling rather shaky and offcolour.

Then it’s time for Jal Neti — allegedly to alleviate sinusitis, bronchitis and negative thinking. This involves filling a doll’s house teapot with another brew of warm saline solution, tilting my head, popping the spout up one nostril and pouring. The water goes up one nasal cavity and comes out of the other nostril, first in a drip, then in a steady stream. Afterwards my sinuses are born again and I feel clear-headed.

If this sounds crazy, mostly the treatments are wonderful. I’m on the new Yogic Detox programme at Ananda in the Himalayas, one of the world’s loveliest destination spas. Ananda is on a palace estate near Rishikesh, India, a place of pilgrimage. The stupendous location overlooks the Ganges and is filled with music, flowers and an endlessly helpful staff.

The week-long programme includes different Hatha yogic techniques for cleansing internal organs (Shatkriya), asana (yogic postures), pranayama (breathing techniques), meditation and an Ayurvedic diet. I follow a food plan prescribed by an Ayurvedic doctor for my specific dosha, or constitution. The helpings are small and inventive. I have a detox headache on the third day but don’t feel any cravings between meals.

First-rate treatments facilitate further detoxing, with Abhyanga (four-handed synchronised massage) to Choornaswedana (a dreamy massage with warmed herbal poultices). I also practise daily yoga and trek to the nearby temple.

I leave floating on a spiritual cloud, feeling calm, happy, with luminescent skin, having lost a few pounds and with my sinuses and (supposedly) chakras cleared. It seemed like an extreme programme, but it’s a Yogic Detox-lite programme.

Wellbeing Escapes (wellbeingescapes.co.uk) offers a seven-night Ananda Yogic Detox package from £2,400pp, including full board, flights and transfers. British Airways (ba.com) flies to Dehli from £537 return.

COCONUT with everything.

That’s how my youngest daughter happily sums up our culinary tour of Kerala, south India.

Our first lesson takes place in the kitchen of a colonial bungalow overlooking the Arabian Sea. Wearing a blue sari and apron, our cookery teacher, Faiza Moosa, stands next to 16 dishes of pungent spices, from fiery chillies to local cloves.

A fan redistributes the breathless heat. Sandalwood incense burns and a lizard crawls up the wall. We’re a long way from the sanitised industrial kitchens and cookery courses of Europe. “These coconuts come from our garden,” adds Faiza, Kerala’s premier cookery teacher. “They’re in most of our dishes.”

We are at Ayesha Mazil, our first gastronomic stop, in the town of Tellicherry. A colonial-style guesthouse with four-poster beds, it is also home to Faiza, 50, and her husband.

I’m with my two young daughters, Anya, 13, and Ella, 11, learning basic Indian cookery in three different venues ‹ without paying a fortune, and enjoying sunshine, too.

Before we start our lesson, we go to the market near the Moosas’ home, to buy our ingredients and discover endless varieties of exotic local fruit and vegetables: from banana blossom (like maize) and long green drumsticks to karela, with its gnarled skin.

Then Faiza’s husband, who likes to be called “Moosa”, whisks us down a crowded alley to the fish market ‹ for kingfish, stingray, shark and pomfret. “Fishing boats come in three times a day,” explains Moosa.

Back at the guesthouse, Faiza stands amid ready-prepared ingredients (there are nine staff in her home). Keralan cuisine is subtle, different from anything else in India, and combines alchemical combinations of spices with influences of Portuguese, Syrian Christian, Jewish and Arab cuisine ‹ introduced by traders over the centuries. Faiza teaches the Moppilah (Muslim) cuisine of her Arab forefathers.

We make Chemmeen Varattiyathu (tamarind prawns) ‹ marinading the crustaceans in coconut oil, orange chilli powder and turmeric. We squeeze tamarinds and sizzle onions, green chillies and mustard seeds for sauce.

Meanwhile, Faiza speedily produces a chicken dish with aniseed, ginger and garlic. A cinch. Afterwards, we whisk jaggery (unrefined sugar), coconut milk and eggs, steaming them in a copper “vanduchembu” for Moppilah crème caramel. Our lesson (producing one meal) takes nearly three hours.

The next day, after breakfast, it’s time to leave. Driving to Sultan’s Battery, we see our ingredients growing ‹ from turmeric plants to cardamom shrubs. Kerala is a lush land with abundant rainfall and paddy fields, spice plantations, coconuts and fresh waters.

We reach Tranquil, a guesthouse on a coffee plantation surrounded by rubber, fruit and spices. We sleep in a treehouse but cook on terra firma. Our hosts are former planters Victor and Jini Dey, newcomers at cookery courses but old hands at cooking.

Our classroom is a backroom with a corrugated ceiling and freestanding gas stoves. Here they teach old family recipes ‹ a mouth-watering fusion of styles. Servants wander in and out, giving us lime sodas.

Our lesson is with chef Sashi, Jini and her daughter, Neesha ‹ with Neesha translating the chef’s Malayalam. We cook Naadan chicken curry ‹ a Masala fish dish and spinach with onion flowers.

Various kitchen hands and dogs join us at different times. At lunch afterwards at a communal table, we eat our produce as monkeys play nearby.

Then we go by train to near Kanam.

Our final destination, Serenity, is a 1920s bungalow-style boutique hotel in Vazhoor, famed as much for great food as its pet elephant, Lakshmi.

On a hilltop with views over the Western Ghats, Serenity has colonial furniture and artefacts and an ayurvedic spa. The cookery demo room is equally elegant ‹ a dining room with gas rings atop its antique table. Our teacher is Rineesh, a fresh-faced young man wearing a tall chef ‘s hat, chef ‘s whites and an apron. It’s all very Swiss, like one of the hotel’s owners.

Before he’s finished teaching us to make local specialities of cashew nut paste and curried fish, we have an electrical blackout (not that uncommon in India) ‹ but somehow he talks and cooks through the dark. Afterwards we devour lemon and lentil soup, curry and stuffed bananas.

But our food odyssey doesn’t end here. Even flying home we eat delicious vegetable curry with warm nan bread. And when we get back, we manage to make our own delicious Indian feast.

There might not be any coconuts in our London garden but at least the children have learned to cook.

DETAILS KERALA

THE TOUR

Scott Dunn has eight nights from £1,957pp full board staying at Ayesha Manzil, Tranquil Plantation and Serenity, including cookery courses, return flights with Kingfisher Airlines and private transfers.