Halong Bay 1- Vietnam

What a thrill is Halong Bay. About a 3 hour drive from Hanoi, which is a bit of a drag, but once the confusion of getting all passengers aboard their allocated junk has passed it is a wonderful experience. There is a multitude of boats to choose from, actually too many as it turns out, but I chose mine based on the fact they offered a chance to go squid fishing at night that I knew would make Max happy. I steered well clear of the fun filled activity boats for children or the disco by the bay options and decided for a lovely junk by the name of Indochina Sails 2. I loved the pictures on the website, the warmth and feeling of sturdiness that the oiled, dark wood planks conveyed so I was a bit miffed when the dark wood boat turned out to be white. And not only mine but all the boats in the bay. Raising an eyebrow in barely hidden disappointment I later found out that a Government official had ordered all the beautiful dark wood to be painted white, reason being, so it seems, that by painting it white they would look more like the cruise ships that adorn the Mediterranean or the Caribbean hence enticing the likes of the Titanic to cross these waters. My eyebrow rose even more in total disbelief to a level where I looked permanently botoxed while I surveyed the poorly painted junk, already showing signs of wear only 2 weeks after the brush had been hung up to dry.

The fact the infrastructure, a real port for example, and the ever so minimal detail of a shallow beach....ahemm...(remember the Costa Concordia?) make it impossible for the massive ship liners to even dream of approaching the bay clearly did not cross the Government official's mind but then... when it comes to Government officials ......

Anyhow, once settled in our beautiful cabin we are immediately summoned to lunch during which our tour guide starts listing the activities of the day.

Activities?

My idea was to lay on the upper deck and enjoy the panorama but I barely burp my last garlic prawn that I am tossed head first into a kayak and start paddling furiously.

A couple of metres from the boat I realize everybody is actually going their own way, the Brazilian ladies heading out to open sea, the American lads running in circles, a British couple doing their best to bump into us at every chance.

I stop paddling and start mumbling curses! Then the guide appears and shouts at the strays pointing in one direction and the straddlers are meekly brought back to heel and we all head towards a cavern in the mountain. The closer we get the more we realise it is not a cavern but an opening that will take us to a hidden lake. Once inside it is wonderful to look at the limestone peaks and greenery and we stare in awe at the beauty of it. Then a rapid flutter of electric blue and a kingfisher darts in front of us clearly worried about the rapidly falling level of fish stocks in the world hence in a hurry to get hold of the last fish. He is beautiful and incredibly fast, a real treat.

Alas, it is time to head back to the ship and to my horror I realize the fact all the ships are white and most of the time nameless presents a bit of an issue. Finally by a process of elimination (our does not have palms on the deck, ours has a staircase coming down the side etc) we manage to board the right one and all is good

Well, so it goes that after hearing Max whine and whimper about his lack of photo opportunities in Singapore I felt sorry for the guy and behind his back organised a long Easter weekend in Vietnam and more precisely in Hanoi city and Halong Bay.

When I told him about it he hopped around like a puppy and happily bought himself a humungous new Canon lens that he would traipse around the bustling streets of Hanoi and use to immortalise every wooden plank of our cruise ship for 4 activity packed days.

Claiming to know everything about Vietnam he was mightily miffed when we did not land after 1 hour as he thought but after 3 and a half as I had told him but got over the annoyance immediately and after having (me!) the usual meltdown-kill-this-bunch-of-morons moment at the ridiculous bureaucracy of visas and passport stamping we finally headed to Hanoi.

Never had we seen such a sea of scooters and even the scary experience of scooter filled Bali did not prepare us for the stampede of intertwining motorcycles carrying everything from enormous bales of clothes, to chickens packed 50 to a crate and even the occasional bull.

We headed for the old quarter where our hotel was booked and where the taxi would pick up us the following day to take us to our cruise ship and took possession of our room. But there is no rest for the wicked and immediately we headed off to visit the old town.

Now, old Hanoi city is a mix of faded French colonial grace and a multicoloured garbage heap and while it might sound ghastly it is also very real, human and sweet and miles away from sterile Singapore.

Scooters....scoot out from and to every direction and road rules are really pointless guidelines while the constant use of the horn is king. After a first moment of panic we realised that there was a certain flow and order to the manic, noisy disorder and also that closing our eyes and stepping out to cross the street would be more effective and less dangerous than relying on the faded zebra crossings last painted back in 1960.

Stores spill out onto the streets that become a sort of extension of businesses, homes, kitchens with punters and owners sharing a meal, a game of chess or a hair cut while sitting on plastic toddler stools. Women shred vegetables and cut meat sitting on the pavement while toothless grandmas stir fry strange concoctions on a portable gas hob and gossip with other toothless grandmas shaking their head in visible disapproval at the youngsters and having a jolly good time in the process. With everybody looking at the two of us (usual giant freaks in a region of the world filled with pint sized people) and offering food at every corner I jumped with glee at the sight of what looked like a suckling pig roasting on the fire but at closer inspection I recoiled with a mix of horror and acceptance of different cultural practices when I saw what usually sits on ones lap after a long walk and does whoof being basted with oil and spices.

Still I realised sadly that I was a bit hungry and we decided to stop at a corner bar and watch the world go by. We ordered a stir fry with fish (just in case!!!) and a coke as an attempt of prevention of food poisoning. 10 minutes later a guy arrived by scooter with a bag containing two Tupperware filled with what looked suspiciously like a stir fry and strange but true two plates appeared soon after...hmmm!

Who cares, it was good and filling! With a full stomach I started to relax and look around only to be miffed by the sight of a sign at the side of the cafe mentioning Internet and Wife.....

Not quite sure what this was about my endless analytical mind concocted within a second the idea of an internet dating service and I was immediately enraged by the fact it was only meant for men and did not take into consideration the need of women and people with other sexual preferences. I almost got on my usual soap box only to realise that the word was spelt incorrectly and that it was actually Internet Wifi service. I immediately deflated realising I did not have a war to start but laughed uncontrollably at the result of an over active mind in front of a misspelt word.