By Alex Reeves – @afreeves23

I’ve lived in my fair share of spots, from the opulence of Tràng Tiền to the nerve-testing racket of Tôn Đức Thắng. You’re about to experience the frustration of being catfished, hassled and lied to with a smile, but I’ve a few wise words that may hold you in decent stead. First up, find yourself a reliable Tuk-Tuk guy.

Next, agents. I can’t say what I really think here if I want to keep writing for VNS, but if you can dodge them, do. That '$500, landlord won’t budge' spot? Go back without the middleman, hang around a little, chat to the tenants, and get the landlord’s number. Suddenly it’s $420 and both parties have more coin left in their pocket. Funny, that.

Make nice with your landlord. You’ll need them when your neighbour invests in a cockerel, and that bloke downstairs with the karaoke obsession won’t be listening to you. Consider the vibe of your neighbourhood. Some landlords’ families live in the same building, and there are only so many late-night visits that a blind eye can be turned to before you’re that tenant. The security guard is not your friend on this one.

Construction. Not so much the silent killer as a sanity killer, death by pneumatic drill at 5am. The law says they can’t. Reality says 'it’s cooler in the morning'. The city blames motorbikes for dust, but the tower block going up next door will do more damage to your lungs than any rusty old Honda Win ever could. Don’t bother tossing your rubbish bags down at the offending workers. It doesn’t help, trust me.

Bathtubs? You’ll use them twice a year. Balconies? For drying clothes, not sipping wine in your silk pyjamas. Water pressure is life. Everything else is just decoration. Check the parking situation, unless you’re looking forward to a daily game of scooter Tetris. Traffic and proximity to work are very worthy aspects to consider when you live in a city that is world-renowned for congestion chaos.

That big garden in Long Biên seems great, but you’ll spend enough time trapped on the bridge that you’ll want to drive off it. Tây Hồ? Don’t live there. Or do, I don’t care anymore. Perfect if you’re fresh off the plane and need mod cons, overpriced sourdough, and don’t mind hanging out in places where the only locals are staff. Elsewhere, you’ll actually have to problem-solve, which is difficult but healthy. Probably.

Contracts here may as well be written on the back of a packet of Thăng Long. Your apartment’s already creaking chair will somehow be valued at more than your bike. Two months’ rent up front and one for deposit is fine. Anything more and you’re paying for someone else’s trip to Hội An. My tip: push for a trial month, with slightly inflated rent, deposit held for damage, and see if the landlord starts sweating when you ask to see the electricity bill.

Good luck. May your shower be strong, your neighbours quiet and your mornings rooster-free. VNS