I have had wild nights end in many ways. One of the best involved me, in Hoi An, Vietnam, crawling in the dust towards a hostel, with a foot the size of a cantaloupe and a bewildered old man standing over me in the deepening pink morning.
Like any good night, this one began early, around dusk. And dusk is when Hoi An seduces like no other time. During the hot day the town is appealing, and at night it can be wildly attractive, but in the burning half-light of a sunset over the Perfume river, Hoi An is like a model under the lens of an expert photographer.