3/17/08
We got up early in the morning for breakfast and then our guide picked us up in front of the hotel. Halong Bay would be a four-hour trip from the city through the Vietnamese countryside.
After exiting the cluttered chaos of the city, we were driving through brilliant green rice fields along a two lane highway. We saw interesting things as we drove: a man selling fresh baguettes from his bike, farming scenes, and water buffalo as well as cows right along the roadside. I suspect the animals may know well enough to stay out of the road, but our guide told us if we hit one we’d be in big trouble. The owner would demand compensation not only for the cow, but also for any possible unborn cows, even if it were a steer.
After passing many small towns, our driver stopped at a tourist-trap souvenir shop that featured “Western Style Toilets.” We learned the store was also a charity that put handicapped children to work as jewelers, embroiderers, carvers, and other artisan trades.
Finally we arrived at Halong Bay. The docks were a mad house of tour groups, but our guide was very smooth in leading us to the front of the line through the throngs of people. Somehow he found our boat, a big, brown, wooden junk that looked just like the hundreds of others docked there. The crew put out a wobbly, wooden plank and assisted us in boarding.
Our boat cruised across the open water towards the limestone islands, weaving in and out of shipping lanes full of freighters over loaded with mounds of black coal. Occasionally a small boat with a family on board would pull up next to our ship. The man would steer the boat and the woman would climb onto the roof holding a child in one arm and a basket of fruit in the other hand. One dollar US would buy anything from a selection of tropical fruit that included items such as dragon fruit, bananas, mangos, persimmons, and papayas.
The first stop on our itinerary was called “Palace Cave.” The large cavern was completely unimpressive other than being lit up like Disneyland inside. We made a quick tour of it with no pauses or hesitation. The most interesting part of the excursion was finding the way back to our boat.
Dozens of identical junks pressed together and were stacked up three deep. Even our guide said, “I’m lost,” because they all looked the same. When we got closer ours became identifiable because Grandpa had stayed back and was now standing prominently in order to get our attention. To get back to our boat, we had to climb over at least three other ships, jumping from one to another as they bumped and jostled.
Lunch was the next item on the agenda. The meal was a high-class function that included white table cloths and a selection of wine. The first course was a small crab. Next came shrimp that we had to peel ourselves. Then french fries and squid with vegetables. Finally a whole fish was served with eyes, gills, bones, and all. The plates kept coming as we sailed between tall mountain islands and enjoyed dramatic views that included floating villages.
During the meal I kept jumping up to capture shots with my camera. Partway through the lunch a small boat pulled alongside with a family selling fruit. It was a bit sad and ironic, we were drinking a $22 bottle of wine while the woman was selling bananas for a dollar. I went out with my camera to take a picture and the woman shook her hand to gesture “no.” I balanced the dollar in one hand and my camera in the other, indicating “one for the other.” The woman nodded and her toddler reached out with his chubby hand to take the money as I snapped away.
At the end of the meal there was a ruckus at another table. It was a woman, American of course, complaining loudly because they asked her to pay for the wine. Her table had two bottles on it, one empty and the other halfway empty. She kept saying, “We didn’t need it! I am very upset about this.” Well… if you didn’t need it, then why did you drink it?
Despite being mired in the tourism that inevitably happens to any incredible place in the world, Halong Bay remains inspiring to the appreciative traveler:
The boat tour ended and we drove the four hours back in the dark. Grandpa slept part of the way. As we entered the outskirts of Hanoi traffic stopped, likely due to a motorbike accident. “You can start counting,” our guide said, “That’s number 35 today.” He was referring to the statistic that 35 deaths a day in Vietnam that are attributed to motorcycle accidents.
Next stop, Shanghai…
