Halong Bay

Everyone in Hanoi insists that you must, must go to Halong Bay. To come to Vietnam and not see the sun rising over the majestic, jewel-like karsts and sparkling off the bay's sapphire water from the deck of your orange-sailed junk is a crime, a crime! 

Yeah, that photo isn't mine. I didn't see sunrise. Or sunset. Vietnam is disgustingly expensive by Southeast Asian standards, so I couldn't afford that nonsense. I also saw some pretty good karst action in Southern Thailand and felt that Halong Bay couldn't be that much better. So I took a day trip and spent just a few hours there. And even though it was extremely overcast and the cheap tour hurried us through our activities in order to get back to Hanoi before midnight, it was still worth doing.  

I and several other tourists, including a Chinese woman named Yuan who became my Halong Bay buddy, climbed aboard a ferry and headed out into the bay. Even darkened by clouds, the place was pretty beautiful. 

Slightly skewed photo courtesy of being on a boat. 

But it wasn't Halong Bay's best day. Here's another one from the internet showing the place in sunny weather. 

You can see why the local legend tells that the islets were once jewels and jade, designedly dropped by dragons to assist the Vietnamese in defending their country from the evil invading Chinese with a wall of staggered stone.

Our first stop was at a cave discovered by a fisherman a few years ago during a thunderstorm. Caves are apparently a big tourist draw in Halong, so whoever is in charge of these things has recently opened a few more to the public. 

It must have been quite something when the fisherman stumbled on it. Unfortunately, that same body who is in charge of these things decided to light the cave with multi-colored lights, which made it look like it was a few strobe lights away from opening as a nightclub.

Our adorable, pint-size guide Chau led us around the cave, pointing out unicorns, dragons, and turtles in the rock formations. Sometimes they looked more or less like the things they were supposed to be, like this turtle, for whom people left offerings:

What is a stone turtle going to do with money? Also, ignore the camera strap. I was really on a roll in the photography department that day. 

Less so with this one, which is supposed to be a dragon. Whoever does these things even added little red eyes in the rock. 

See it? Me neither. 

She pointed out all manner of things in the rock formations and the shadows they cast. I particularly liked this exchange she and I had:

Chau: Do you know the novel Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare?

Me: Play. 

Chau: What?

Me: Nothing. Yes. 

Chau: Well, in this cave we have our own Romeo and Juliet. Do you see Romeo there? (points at a shadow 
vaguely resembling a man.) And can you see Juliet? 

Me: (mostly to myself) Well, I'm going to guess that it's the balcony scene. So she must be somewhere up...

Chau: Yes! There she is! (Points at a vaguely woman-shaped shadow.) Now in the novel, one of them dies. 

Me: Actually...

Chau: But in this cave, they do not die. They have children! Do you see the children? (points at lumps of rock.) It is better that way. 

Me: ....I...okay. 

After that brief appreciation of fine literature, we got back on the boat and headed further into the bay. Yuan and I sat at the blunt bow and dangled our feet over the water, breathing in the breeze and watching the faces of the islands change shape as we passed them and discovered their irregular facets. This was my favorite part of the trip, and I wish I could have spent all day doing it. 

But it was only about 25 minutes before we reached the fishing village which I suspect now makes a living more on tourism than fishing. 

Upon our arrival we were immediately set upon by floating fruit vendors. I bought a dollar's worth of rambutan, and was given about six of them (you'd get twenty or so in Hanoi). 

Then Yuan and I climbed into kayaks and set out for a 30 minute paddle. She had never kayaked before, but was a quick study under my expert tutelage. She also surprised me with her wicked sense of humor, and we giggled while making up stories about the rock faces that involved dragons and princesses and the evil Chinese attacking the hapless Vietnamese (wildly disrespectful, I know). 

But mostly we were pretty quiet as we glided through low caves and into empty, sheltered inlets. 

And then, all too soon, we climbed out of our battered kayaks and onto our boat to cruise back to Halong City. 

And from there to bus back to Hanoi and the monsoon that was dumping buckets of water on the city.