Late October 2025, Hoi An faced one of the worst floods since 1964. The ancient town, known for its lantern-lit streets and centuries-old architecture, was submerged under deep muddy waters. Streets became rivers, homes were evacuated, and heritage buildings stood waist-deep in water. But as devastating as it was, what shocked many wasn't just the scale of the flood; it was the reminder that this wasn’t the first time the city had been brought to its knees by rising water. The evidence still stands on the wooden pillars of one of Hoi An’s oldest homes.
At 77 Tran Phu Street lies the Quan Thang Ancient House, a home that has stood for over 300 years. Built in the late 18th century by a Chinese merchant named Quan Thang, it is now considered one of the most beautiful and intact ancient houses remaining in Hoi An. Recognized as a living monument to Central Vietnam’s architectural history, it has withstood centuries of climate, commerce, and change.
Architecturally, the house is a fine example of traditional merchant homes of the era. Narrow at the front but stretching nearly 30 meters deep, its layout follows the classic Hoi An design: a shop front facing the street, then a living space, an open-sky courtyard, and finally the kitchen and storage areas at the rear. Its structure is built almost entirely from ironwood, known for its strength and resistance to humidity and termites. The tiled mái âm dương (yin-yang roof), yellow lime walls, and intricate carvings were all crafted by artisans from the nearby Kim Bong woodworking village. Inside, there are red lacquered ancestral altars, hand-painted wall hangings, and delicate wooden furniture. It feels both historic and lived-in as descendants of the original owner still reside there and welcome guests every day.
Yet what truly sets this house apart is a single wooden column in the central chamber. On this darkened post, you’ll see hand-painted marks - bright red lines carefully labeled with years: 1964, 1999, 2007, 2009. These are floodmarks, each one indicating the record-breaking times when the tide of Thu Bon River overflowed the riverbanks, and life in Hoi An was abruptly interrupted.
The highest of these is the mark for Lũ Giáp Thìn (Dragon Year Flood),of 1964, when water levels on the Vu Gia - Thu Bon river system reached 3.4 meters, one of the worst floods in Central Vietnam’s 20th-century history. But even that was recently surpassed. During the October 2025 floods, the water peaked at around 3.5 meters, 10 centimeters higher than the 1964 record. Residents had to once again move all their belongings to the upper floor, reliving the same routines of urgency and loss.
Standing before that column is a sobering experience. For many visitors, it’s hard to imagine water ever reaching such heights as some marks are close to the ceiling. The realization that these floods weren’t isolated events, but repeated ones, leaves a deep impression. What looks like a part of interior décor is, in truth, a record of resilience. In a place where floods return again and again, the act of recording becomes a quiet way of honoring what was lost, and what survived.
Each mark carries its own weight. To look at them is to think not only about rising water but about the families losses and those who had to carry furniture upstairs in the middle of the night, the shopfronts that reopened days later with mud still drying on their walls, and the strength of a city that refuses to leave its roots behind. These red lines, therefore, speak volumes.
Perhaps that is the power of Quan Thang Ancient House. It holds your attention with beauty, but it stays with you because of what it remembers. So while Hoi An continues to recover, clean its streets, and welcome travelers once more, Quan Thang Ancient House continues to stand as a home, a museum, and a witness of waterlines, physically and emotionally.