Ninh Binh (1-3 Nov 13)

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And I'm back!

So it's been what, three weeks since I left you hanging after my Yunnanese escapade. As I mentioned, I haven't gone far. It was just another trip back down to the Hekou-Lao Cai border with Vietnam (no 3h traffic jam this time though, thank goodness), followed by another 9h bus ride to the storied northern capital of Hanoi. And I've been here ever since. Why the long stay, you might ask. Well after the few days I'd spent here last year (in addition to the couple of times I'd visited even before, in the past), I developed the inkling to plan for a slightly more extended stay, just to explore the city in greater depth, like I've done for Bangkok in Thailand. So here I am.

But this entry isn't about Hanoi. To some extent I've already written one about the capital last year, and will probably add another when my stay here comes to an end, perhaps later this month. This entry is about Ninh Binh, a less-known city about two hours south, which I visited as a weekend retreat of sorts from the frenetic motorcycle madness of Hanoi. Ninh Binh is more famous for its surrounding environs than the medium-sized city's offerings itself.

And just what are these environs? Well, in its proximity lie Tam Coc and Hoa Lu, with rural views that have been dubbed Halong Bay on Rice Paddies. In other words, picture enormous and grand limestone karsts jutting out not from the sea, but on land, bathed in the warm golden ambers of sleepy sun-rises and sun-sets. And they were indeed impressive. The day I spent leisurely cycling along dirt tracks through the rice paddies was something I think I've missed since I left Laos over a month ago, and it was certainly the break I sought after several consecutive weeks of dodging impossible traffic in the touristy Hoan Kiem area, where I'm staying in Hanoi.

Stayed at New Guest House.

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Photos

"Halong Bay on Rice Paddies"
Wow indeed.

Tam Coc
Just VND30k (about USD1.50) for a two hour ride in the lake, rowed by conical-hat donning ladies, using their feet (!) But I declined thanks to horror stories about the surreal, pushy souvenir sales pitches towards the end of the journey that I read about.