They’ve rolled out the red carpet for us – shucks I’m flattered – though for what we each paid I’d half expect it. In actuality, walking down the steps to the transfer boat can be slippery and without a jetty, it’s straight in to the water if you slip – so it’s practical, and the colour a coincidence. This thing shifts; with a 150hp Yamaha offboard strapped to the back, it digs in deep and lifts the bow hard as we’re ferried to our boat.
Looking around I see “junks” dotted around the harbour, awaiting the arrival of their tourists who, having had tails trapped firmly, are similarly being convoyed in droves to their boats. There are ten of us on our two day, one night trip: My sister, our new Finnish friend and I, a welcoming Antipodean couple, a solo French traveller who sadly could not speak a
dicky bird of English, an Aussie couple as introverted as they are rude and obese, an extrovert and friendly Canadian and a solo Swiss traveller who enjoys flicking her considerable blonde hair at pursuing males, in succession. Good thing I’m not in to hirsute blondes then; she’s all yours Rick.
Having loaded up, we’re treated to lunch as we head to the floating village Vung Vieng. Not to be confused with the hangout of Australian drinking, tattoed, topless, moronic, surfing, monosyllabic, monolithic – I’ve run out of adjectives – proletariat in
Vang Vieng; here the locals make their livelihood from the water on which they live. Contrary to the Top Gear Vietnam episode, however, all village people do set foot on land; selling their goods and excess seafood for income. Some of the shacks are housing, others schools and colleges powered by diesel generators to the back. And even in these misty and cold conditions, it’s well worth forking out for. Though similar to the Muslim stilt villages in South Thailand, I get the sense of a more orderly townsfolk, who are happier to see visitors. Looking behind atop our boat before we drop anchor, it seems there’s a convoy behind us; we’d be the 1pm appointment then.
Poor girl; this is hardly the most efficient way to move a boat in the water by hand. She’s effectively sculling
forward and having to use her arms to move spoons about as wide as chopsticks through the water – it’s in serious of need of some re-engineering. Constructed in the form of a Turtle’s shell, there’s enough room for four passengers, though it’s as stable as a single scull and wouldn’t take much to flip it; so please, sit
still and do not under any circumstances stand up. If I could speak Vietnamese, I’d offer to stroke for her and give our girl a break; but as much as I try to communicate by gesture, she smiles and carries on without complaint. I think she deserves a tip, so all of us – bar Cousin It – decide to contribute 10,000 each.
The village is a large and narrow selection of floating housing, generally following the perimeter of karst formations. Vung Vieng has been constructed in a watery valley of cliffs, which whilst offering some protection from the elements, mean that any noise will reverberate for some distance. So ensure your dog is well trained, like these, who are as nimble walking over bamboo decking as they might be herding sheep.
Sea Kayaking in Ha Long Bay
Fourty minutes of Sea Kayaking later and I’m happy to head onboard to dry off. Stopping at the jetty to unload, it’s good that the myriad of French tourists have left; it was beginning to sink under their weight earlier. I imagine in the height of Summer, Ha Long Bay must be the boat-equivalent of Hanoi’s mopeds.
The rest of the evening is spent eating soft-shell crab, battered Squid, grilled King Prawns, steamed fish and being a seafood lover, I’m in my element. Little sleep, combined with hunger from the cold and draining previous day’s run, and I’ve made a name for myself by eating everything in sight. I’ll sleep well tonight and considering how luxurious the rooms are – with en suite showers and hot water, air-conditioning and comfortable beds – even the diesel generator running all night behind my room can’t keep me up. In fact this is one of the cleanest rooms I’ve had in Vietnam, and with a lack of any crawling or blood-siphoning monstrosities, the gentle rocking makes for an incredibly relaxing slumber.
As the mist begins to turn from grey to black, the engine dies, anchor drops and looking around I notice that we have hauled up alongside two dozen similar junks; welcome to the Ha Long Bay campsite. Really, seriously, can you tell me that with 1969 islands in 150 square kilometres that we all need go to the same place? Safety in numbers perhaps, but clearly the conveyer belt I am on follows a fixed path. Somewhat disappointed and though clearly a
must-see destination, I feel with a large enough group it would be better to hire a junk and set itinerary yourself.
Early rise for breakfast and as the anchor is raised, hard to port to head to the
Amazing cave for a quick viewing. Perhaps this will prove to be less populated by punters; one can hope after all. I’ve seen plenty of caves these last three months; some pitch black and requiring headtorches, others brightly lit and this differs only in its sheer size. They’ve laid cabling and coloured lamps to highlight certain formations; though in all honesty, whilst the locals named some of the formations after what they may appear to resemble, there’s no visible history; save for some 1950s graffiti from the French.
En route back to the port at walking pace it’s slow going, but there’s enough time to relax and burn some more on the top deck. I’ve a sudden craving for Salmon nigiri and Californian rolls; looking ahead my convoy resembles the conveyer-belt Sushi I had when in Bangkok.
I'm finding this Vietnam trip very interesting!! The scenery is stunning. Was that a sea eagle catching a fish? We are trying to follow you on our ancient atlas and I've read on 'google' about the tribes you stayed with. Email more news please!!!! Very jealous of your fish meals!!!!
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