The Nuovo Sunset Town: A Love Letter to Europe

The sky turns a hazy crimson I wander the cobblestone streets of "Sunset Town," a grotesque simulacrum of an Italian village improbably planted on the southern shores of Phu Quoc, and island in south Vietnam.

I'm surrounded by perfect terracotta facades under a towering clocktower, but there is a profound emptiness that echoes between the walls. There's something almost post-apocalyptic about it - as if all the Italians were raptured to heaven, leaving behind only their architectural blessings and a smattering of bewildered Asian tourists clutching selfie sticks.

This bizarre sight follows a troubling pattern across Asia - developers constructing elaborate stage sets where tourists can play-act their European fantasies without the inconvenience of actually going to Europe. China mastered it first, with the "Thames Town" outside Shanghai and "Little Paris" of Tianjin. Each one more uncanny than the last, as if designed by an AI that was fed nothing but travel brochures, and its next expression is here in Vietnam.

These places share a common emptiness and surprising scale. Wandering through Sunset Town's "piazza," I would say 70% of realestate sit vacant behind their picture-perfect exteriors, their emptiness somehow more honest than the shops that are occupied. Those sell the same tourist trinkets you'd find anywhere – mass-produced lacquerware, conical hats made in factories rather than by artisans, t-shirts proclaiming "Good Morning Vietnam" to visitors who've never seen the film. Why did they decline to sell goods themed to match the environment?

I guess the point isn't authenticity – it's the appearance of having been somewhere that looks foreign on social media.

How does any of this make financial sense? The answer lies in the brutal economics of development in this part of the world. Labor costs that would be unimaginable in the West. Land acquired cheaply through methods that rarely benefit the original inhabitants. The math works because human dignity and environmental concerns rarely factor into the equation. Why wouldn’t we build a fake empty Italy?

Meanwhile, the authentic heart of Southeast Asia beats slower each year. The genuine romance of places like Hoi An with its lantern-lit streets or Georgetown's living heritage slowly suffocates under the weight of commercialisation. Canngu’s serene rice fields have long been bulldozed for digital nomad cafés. Phuket's cultural identity drowned beneath waves of beach clubs and franchise restaurants.

As night falls over Sunset Town, the carefully programmed light show illuminates the façades. A Vietnamese couple, newly wed judging by their attire, poses for a kiss infront of the setting sun. Their joy seems genuine enough against this fabricated backdrop.

Either way, tomorrow I'll be gone. Sunset Town will remain, waiting for the next wave of visitors seeking that perfect photo of a place that never existed.

• In memory of real places.