There are three ‘palaces’ of Bao Dai, Vietnam’s last emperor, in Da Lat; each is worse than the last. I put the word ‘palace’ in quotes because these aren’t palaces in the sense I understand; they’re mansions perhaps.

Of the three (called by their number) Palace 3 is the best. Inside there’s some sense that the family lived there for at least a short while: there’s a pink bedroom for the girls, blue for the boys, a single for the then-teenaged crown prince. I can’t imagine the furniture in the house is original, because while it seems vintage, it also seems cheap and lacks style. Bao Dai was known for demanding the best, and had beautifully appointed homes in France; maybe his real furniture was shipped back with him, or distributed among his detractors after his abdication, or maybe his family spent little to no time here and considered it a rustic hotel of sorts.

The same is true of the books in the emperor’s office; I found them maddening in their total lack of personality and relevance. They are the books of a schoolboy: Shakespeare, Marot, Brontë, Voltaire. The sole book indicating any self-awareness whatsoever is a 1953 paperback biography of General de Lattre, the French Commander in Chief of Indochina in 1951 and 1952.

I hope these books were not his, and just gathered when turning this place into a museum; maybe some other scenario explains why this library is not reflection of him. If this is a true reflection, it’s not a good look. Though, like any royal, he was not admitted on merit, he did attend Sciences Po; one would expect to see books on military and colonial history, strategy, diplomacy, psychology, etc. The miniature flags on the desk annoy me as well. Are they trying to make him look like an idiot?

The building itself was designed by a no-name French architect in the Art Deco style and built between 1933 and 1939. There’s lots of tiles and cement; it’s not impressive. I was almost insulted to be asked to wear dust booties over my shoes to protect the worthless floors. The request did match my first impression, though; the place has the look and feel of a suburban mansion no one wants, converted into suites of doctor’s offices.

The garden is nicely laid out and terraced, though the plantings are certainly not original: they’re not laid out symmetrically or successively in the French manner, but randomly applied, with potted trees or beds of cheap flowers here and there. The pines are pretty, though the view of modern Dalat must be so much uglier than it was in the ‘40s. To top it off, there’s a tacky children/instagram statuary feature of zoo animals.

At the bottom of the hill, there’s a lovely restaurant/café. That was the highlight of my visit!