There’s such a lot of world to see

Before I even came to Vietnam, Halong Bay was one of the places I was most looking forward to seeing. A world UNESCO site, the photos I’d seen had shown gloriously turquoise waters nestling stunning steep islands, appearing as if from nowhere out of the deep. Halong actually means ‘descending dragon’, and it’s a Vietnamese belief that a dragon entered down into the bay, accounting for its mystical nature. I couldn’t wait.

Doireann and I had an early start. Not only was the bus picking us up at 8am, we had to be packed, checked out of the room (Rich had kindly offered to let us store our bags in his room until we came back 3 days later – he must have been disappointed at the lack of valuables in mine) and ready to go. I also needed to go out even earlier to pick up more Ibuprofen for my foot (yep, still popping those babies, well on my way to junkieland by now). I was planning 3 days of doing not much, and taking the opportunity to give my foot maximum rest, but I didn’t want to be stuck in the middle of nowhere with no painkillers. As I headed out onto the quiet-by-Hanoi-standards streets, I couldn’t help but notice the rain, mainly due to the fact that it was bucketing down and soaking me. Passing a store, I noticed they were selling ponchos. Not the flimsy, blancmange-pink efforts I was sporting in Cambodia, but a more quality product, opaque plastic this time, and less likely to tear. I took one in navy for a dollar, and headed back to the hotel, delighted with my purchase and clutching two pains-au-chocolat for our breakfast. God bless the French colonials who left that as a legacy.

Waiting downstairs, Doireann couldn’t help but be struck by how stylish and classy my poncho was and so, naturally, decided she wanted one for herself. I’m such a fashion icon, right at the cutting edge. She came back in a few minutes later with a royal blue one, which had a handy reminder across the back that this was ‘rainwear’. You know, she might have worn it over her bikini were it not for that caution. She was doing well to keep her chin up – these were the last few days of a 16-month trip for her, and she desperately wanted some sunshine.

Soon after the poncho expedition, our lovely guide TinTin walked in to collect us. That’s a nickname – his actual Vietnamese name is largely unpronounceable to us, so everyone calls him TinTin. Over the course of the next three days, Doireann and I both fell in love with him a little bit – a gorgeous looking guy who spoke very good English, never stopped laughing and encouraging us all to have fun and make friends, and was generally just too cool for school, wearing shades even when it was raining outside. Oh, and the guy could sing!

We were taken to our bus, where we met the rest of our group. It was a veritable UN of tourists – a Dutch couple, a French mother and daughter, a South African now living in England, a group of six Spanish friends (I could never remember the women’s names but the guys were incongrouously called the most Spanish names ever – Carlos, Jose, and Miguel. Straight out of central casting), a Vietnamese couple who now live in America, Doireann from Ireland and lil’ ol’ English me. Most people spoke English embarassingly well, though, so it became, as it usually does, our common language.

Paying a bit more for our tour really worked out in the end. All the buses and the boat was excellent, TinTin would be impossible to top as a tour guide, the group was good and small so we all got to know each other. Just as Camel, TN Bros and F Tours are bad, I’m going to say right now that ODC are gooood. From friends who’d been earlier, we heard they had to wait around for hours at the docks while their boat was sorted out – whereas ours was there straighaway, waiting for us, and it was just grand. Downstairs is a communal area where we hung out when it was raining (ie all the time), and ate our meals. We all had cabins on the lower deck, which again were spacious (for a boat!), and upstairs was a great area with sunbeds and wooden chairs. Marvellous, if the sun had shown its face a little bit.

Sporting our ponchos (and the jealous glances from our fellow passengers didn’t go unnoticed), Doireann and I headed up on top while we set off. It was wet, yes, but lovely to be out in the fresh air, waving at all the other boats heading out at the same time as us.

First thing on the agenda – always my favourite – was lunch. The quality was excellent. Not surprisingly, seafood made up a large part of it (and not just my usual ‘see food and eat it’ diet) – we had squid, butter fish, oh just loads and loads of great fish. I was in foodie heaven. Followed by huge chunks of pineapple and banana, two fruits I swear they should be given the monopoly on here in Asia. The best pineapple and banana in the world, ever, fact. Bananas especially are like nothing I’d ever tasted in the UK, but are ripe and sweet and juicy. Right, I have to change the subject before I drool on the keyboard.

After lunch, we made our first stop at some caves. I think the French name, translated into English, is the cave of amazement, or something else that I can’t remember. These caves are three rooms of increasing grandeur and size, the last one being the size of a couple of football pitches. The rock formations discovered in these caves are just beautiful, and the Vietnamese have lots of different theories as to what they all look like – usually animals, but to be honest, you had to REALLY want to see it. TinTin would point his laser light at something and say, “can you see the animal?” “Tiger?” “Dragon” “Lion?”, we’d guess, after which we started getting more desperate, “Elephant?” “Iguana?” “Sheep?”. “No!” TinTin would shout happily, “It’s a turtle!”. “Ahhhhhh” we’d all say and nod, then turn around and shrug at each other. The caves are also lit artificially, using colour. I heard mixed opinions on this, but I for one loved it – it highlighted the most interesting areas beautifully.

The next stop was a short break for swimming, off a man-made beach. Alternatively, we could walk up to the top of a little mountain. For me, though, both these options were off. Just walking up the stairs to the caves I’d twisted my toe again, and so decided to get strict about not much walking on it. And swimming? No, thanks. Despite the fact that it’s a protected world heritage site, the water is far from clear, and one of our friends had returned from an earlier trip with a rash that the doctor directly attributed to the Halong water. Throw in the fact that there were about 20 other boats parked nearby, I decided to give this one a miss. Instead, I sat upstairs (it had miraculously stopped raining for a little bit), and read my book. I was a very happy bunny indeed. Not long after, the others started drifting in from the beach, saying it wasn’t very nice. Right decision.

There wasn’t much to do after this except sit back and enjoy the views. Despite the fact that the rain was unending, the views were spectacular. Huge rock formations appeared to drift by us, like the iceberg (“dead ahead”) in Titanic. Except we didn’t hit any of them. The water, though not clear, was an unusual shade of greeny turqoise, punctuated every so often by an island. The islands are too small and too steep to be inhabited, so instead they just sit there, prehistoric reminders of another age.

Dinner that evening was, yet again, more delicious seafood and meat. Couldn’t get enough of the stuff. After a couple of beers, most people headed off to bed, tired out from all the fresh air, and wanting to save our energy for the next day.

We were up bright and early the next morning – breakfast was at 8am – and ate very well on eggs, tons of bread (my reputation must go before me), butter and jam. We then transferred onto a smaller boat, which would take us to a place where it would be safe for kayaking.

Despite the fact that the last time I’d been in a kayak was about 20 years ago (I was in the guides, and I fell out. Of the kayak, not the guides), I was looking forward to it. Plus I’d be sharing one with Doireann, who kayaked in New Zealand just a few months ago, so we’d be bound to be the best team. Everyone zipped all their luggage up in a great big canvas bag (another good thing about ODC is how safety-conscious they are – I’d head plenty of horror stories about people having things stolen in Halong Bay), and held out the key for one of us to take. In one of my better moments, before I left home I bought a waterproof money belt, into which I can put my passport, money, tickets and so on and go swimming if a) I’m by myself and b) there are no sharks around. I had the money belt with me, so offered to take the key for the group. The others were all poor trusting souls, and said ok. At least this was a way of guaranteeing they would be nice to me! I told them I was a fast kayaker and so to keep an eye on us otherwise we’d be halfway to Malaysia, but I don’t think they believed me.

Amazingly, we managed to get into the kayak without falling in. TinTin told us to stay nearby until the whole group was in the water. We were mooching around, getting into the swing of it, when suddenly behind us Doireann and I heard a horn sound. We looked around and, no exaggeration, one of the big boats was bearing down on us. I honestly thought I’d breathed my last and I would be shark food, but we started paddling like mad. Obviously I lived to tell the tale (don’t think I could type this well from beyond the grave), but the boat passed within about 6 feet of us. Fortunately we didn’t get sucked under, but it was a close call. And what were our lovely friends doing at this point? Killing themselves laughing, that’s what. I gave them a stern look and reminded them of the key. At which point they stopped laughing, for about 3 seconds. Gerard, the Dutch guy, told me I should have blown my whistle on my lifejacket (you know, the one that will attract the attention of the rescue planes), so I gave it a blast then for good measure.

I don’t know if it was the whistle blast, or something in the air, but at that moment, the heavens literally opened, and down came such a heavy downpour. We were getting soaked from the sea, soaked from everyone splashing us, and soaked from above. But you know what? It was the most fun. I don’t think we stopped laughing for the whole couple of hours we were out there. Doireann and I entertained the group with our renditions of appropriate songs – Row, Row, Row Your Boat, Sailing, Speed Bonny Boat, Singing In the Rain – you name it, we sang it. It was a real shame when it was over.

And no, I didn’t lose the key.

We had to shiver back on the boat until we reached Cat Ba Island, where we would be staying for the night. This is the biggest island in Halong Bay. We were told what time to go up for dinner (a barbeque this time), and then some of the group set off on a trek across the island. I didn’t go, but stayed and rested my foot, and waited for dinner. And mmmmmmm – dinner. Spicy prawns, calamari, fish in tomato sauce. Wow, it was good. I know I’m saying that about all the meals, but they really were incredible.

After the meal, the Spanish group, the Dutch couple, Nolan the South African, Celine the French daughter, Doireann and I headed out and hit the only nightclub on Cat Ba Island. And it was NOT good. Rarely outside of Ruebens Nite Spot in Leigh have I heard worse tunes. Mainly horrid techno, with some bizarre things – Ace of Base done in a Drum n Bass style, anyone? – thrown in. Despite our pleading, we couldn’t get the DJ to change the music. We danced, of course we danced, but we couldn’t stand it for much longer, so a few of us (Doireann, Miguel, one of the Spanish women and me) went to another bar, while the others called it a night and went home. The other bar was lots of fun – the barmaid let us choose the music, so I went right for Blondie and led a dance session outside in the rain, to the bemusement of the locals.

We propped up the bar good style – Miguel and I were the last two standing, and rolled in around 4am. We were checking out at 8am the next day. TinTin, bless his heart, rang our room when neither Doireann nor I had shown up for breakfast by 7.40. We were ready, but just about to leave. See, the guy was so NICE!

The last day was more of the same. The boat was going to stop for swimming, but no-one wanted to go in in the rain, so we played cards on board until we’d got back to Halong City. Such a good feeling, to be playing and laughing with a new group of friends. Getting back, for once, passed without incident, and all too soon it was time to say Au Revoir, Adios, the word for goodbye in Dutch and Vietnamese, whatever that is, to the group.

It wasn’t raining in Hanoi, but I wouldn’t have swapped those three days in the rain for any amount of sunshine.

Tags: Travel, Vietnam

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