I'm a travel writer. If you want a local taste of Ho Chi Minh City, skip the hotels and book a night in an old apartment block instead.

Despite and in some ways because of the Vietnam War — typically referred to there as the American War — Ho Chi Minh City experienced a building boom in the 1960s. Still Saigon at the time, apartment buildings like this one were thrown up to house the city's swelling population. 

This was the heyday of Vietnamese modernism, a localization of a global architectural movement that combined traditional bioclimatic features with functional and practical design decisions.

Most stores on the ground floor sold everyday essentials, like homemade snacks, cold drinks, cigarettes, and cellphone credit. There was also a toy store and some hair salons. The antique store, which sold paintings, jewelry, statues, and other knickknacks, was the exception. 

The building only had one elevator serving the 450 or so apartments, which resulted in long lines throughout the day — it was also turned off between 11 p.m. and 5 a.m. I soon learned to give up on the elevator and take the stairs instead.

It had a mezzanine level with an additional bed and a small balcony with views of the street below.

"It seems that the neighbors love to communicate with tourists," Chung Minh Nhan, the Airbnb owner told me when I asked about how his business was doing. Chung, once a resident of the building himself, says that the neighbors like practicing their English and meeting people from different parts of the world. Visitors also provide an additional income for the small business owners.

I wasn't convinced all residents were happy with the visitors, so I probed a little more.

"Well of course there's the other side," Chung said. "Some tourists don't behave well, and neighbors do sometimes have to knock on the door and tell them to be quiet." Chung's Airbnb business is called Co Fi, and he has two rooms available for rent. Other Airbnb businesses in the building include Lok-koc, Happy House, and Galaxy.

Much like Vietnamese people do in the countryside in their gardens, the residents here decorate hallways. They had installed fish tanks, mounted paintings, and hung ceiling trinkets to spruce up the space.

Other residents used the common space for more practical purposes. On my visit, I saw exercise equipment, writing desks, filing cabinets, and large storage boxes. I also saw some hallways transform into nail salons and kindergartens.

The best dish was the beef noodle soup, served on Sundays on the second floor. 

There were two chefs in the building: Nguyen The Le Hu on the fourth floor and Tong Thi Tam on the second floor. They both served a rotating menu of noodle soup dishes from breakfast until lunchtime. 

Tong is from Hue, a small city in central Vietnam famous for its bun bo Hue, or Hue beef noodle soup.

"I've lived here for over 40 years," Tong told me. "But I haven't forgotten how to make bun bo Hue!" 

Vietnamese coffee is made from Robusta beans and condensed milk rather than Arabica beans and fresh milk. This means that the taste is bitter and sweet, rather than sour and smooth, and a typical cup may have twice as much caffeine as a cappuccino or latte. Due to Ho Chi Minh City's tropical climate, the coffee is often poured over ice.

Exploring the cool and breezy hallways was one of the highlights of staying in the building. Mel Schenck, the author of "Southern Vietnamese Modernist Architecture," told me that air conditioning was not readily available in the 1960s, "so the buildings were designed to cool naturally," he said. 

These hallways afforded views of the golden dome of the Al Rahim Mosque, which serves some of Ho Chi Minh City's 10,000 or so Muslims , and the Bitexco Financial Tower, inspired by a blooming lotus flower. Locals often joke that it looks more like Stark Tower, the headquarters of the Avengers from the Marvel Cinematic Universe, or a banh mi — a Vietnamese sandwich — with the newspaper wrapping peeled back.

The apartment building at 47-57 Nguyen Thai Binh doesn't offer the comfort, convenience, or even cleanliness of the average three or four-star hotels in Ho Chi Minh City. But instead, staying there is an opportunity to connect with a community and catch glimpses of local life.

I've grown tired of tedious hotel breakfast buffets, and scripted conversations with reception staff, so the street food kitchens and diverse neighborly encounters made for a refreshing change. I'm already planning my return visit.