SE Asia 2014 Day 11

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Breakfast at our Hanoi hotel in their Japanese restaurant. This time we opt for the ramen noodles.

We are soon on the bus and headed for Halong Bay, situated east of Hanoi on the ocean. It's a 3 1/2 hour trip. We make two stops along the way. The first is a enormous roadside gift shop catering to tourists. It is a football field-sized store that covers all the types of handicrafts we have seen so far and other besides. As usual, you immediately pick up a shadow, but we are not much interested in shopping. We do pick up some snacks, including cashews.

Digression: Vietnam is the worlds's largest producer of cashews. They grow on large trees in red pods.

The second stop is alongside a large, beautifully maintained vegetable garden, growing lettuce, onions, herbs and more. I finally have a chance to photograph one of the ancestral memorials out in the field. There's hardly a weed to be seen. The weeding and watering are all done by hand.

We eventually arrive at Halong Bay (the city). It is another bustling metropolis. We stop at a pearl factory, where we receive a short but fascinating lesson on how pearls are grown in oyster farms, and of course have the chance to be seduced by the wide variety of pearl jewelry available for sale.

Leaving the store, we proceed directly to the docks and board a tender that takes us directly to our home for the next couple of nights–the Marguerite, a small cruise boat with the Victory Cruise Line. We set sail immediately and head out into the famous Halong Bay.

Halong Bay is a UNESCO world heritage site and one of the natural wonders of the world. It features some 2000 karst islands, islets and mountains rising spectacularly out of the ocean. We have seen karst mountains, formed via the erosion of limestone by wind and water, before in Guilin, China, and also in Rio de Janiero, Brazil. But the extent, number and variety of the formations in this area are unlike anything else in the world. The name in Vietnamese (Ha Long) means descending dragon, and the legend is that a mighty dragon spit out all these islands as it was coming to rest.

The sky is hazy, so visibility is somewhat limited. Even so, the mountains, islands and bizarre rock formations thrusting themselves out of the ocean are astounding. It's easy to understand why ancient people would think that only some supernatural force could have created this landscape. What's more, all the formations are eroding at the base, with the result that there are often, at water level, caves and even openings right through the rock skyscrapers that lead clear to the ocean on the other side.

Our cabins on board are small but comfortable. The ship has only two levels of cabins plus an observation deck. We are served our first lunch on board and it bodes well for the cruise. A nice sweet-spicy tofu dish and calamari with vegetables hit the spot.

The ship stops near the entrance to a traditional floating village. The story here is somewhat tragic. A unique fishing-based culture grew up in this area. For hundreds of years, a small group of people eked out an existence by exploiting the very special natural resources around them. The lack of any flat land forced them to build floating villages. But in the past several years, as pollution grew, fish stocks declined, and the young people moved to the cities, it became harder and harder to maintain this lifestyle. Now all these people have been forced to move to the mainland, but they return to guide tourists like ourselves through empty floating villages like this one.

From the ship, we transfer to small sampans carrying 4-6 passengers. The boat woman (in our case) stands at the back of the boat and pushes forward on two long oars to propel the boat forward. We have about a 20-minute ride to the village. The world is quiet, the only sound the gentle swish of oars, the murmur of the sea against the rocks, and the calls of eagles high up in the mountains. All around us, like giant sentinels, stand the seemingly immutable mountains, whose shear cliffs rear out of the water like sea monsters striving to touch the sky. Their sometimes bizarre silhouettes evoke faces and animals that surveil our silent passage. Awe inspiring.

On reaching the village, we have some time to wander around and explore. There are water cages made of rope where fish circle endlessly, seeking escape. Three young dogs bark and chase each other. There is an old-fashioned school with benches, desks and a blackboard, where not too long ago, the dwindling ranks of children were educated. Some very nice water colours are offered for sale, and we buy a couple. We pause for a group photo at the end of a dock. Then it's back in the sampan and a return to our vessel.

Back on the boat and after a shower, it's happy hour! I teach the bartender, who knows very little English, how to make a Manhattan. No bitters, and only Jim Bean and green maraschino cherries, but it tastes good to us. Supper follows. The meals on board subscribe to the same Vietnamese template I have described earlier. The seafood dishes–fish, shellfish, prawns and squid–are particularly good, I presume because they are so fresh. Tonight the shrimp cocktail is beautiful and the stuffed crab baked in shell yummy.

By time supper's over, the boat has anchored in a large bay that is clearly the preferred location for overnighting, because there are perhaps three dozen ships similarly moored here. I'm guessing that this bay is well protected from ocean swells, and indeed the water here is very still.

It's now dark and time for squid-jigging! A bright light is deployed at the bow. Apparently the light will attract tiny minnows which will in turn draw the squid. Fishing rods are supplied that sport a cluster of hooks at the end of the line. You simply drop the lure in the water and jerk the line up, hopefully catching some squid in the process. No one is having the slightest bit of luck when Violet's pole bends sharply. We've caught a giant squid! No, actually, she's managed to snag the anchor line. No matter how we try, the lure is stuck fast, and with the boat slowing turning, we are in danger of losing the rod. So we use men's solution to everything–brute strength–to snap the line and save the rod.

This has definitely been one of the highlight days of the trip and we sleep soundly on the firm bed, lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking of the boat.

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