Ha Long Bay and Cat Ba Island, Vietnam (Late February to early March 2007)

My dad often comments how, for Eric and me on this trip, every day is unique; we are always doing something new. This is true. One morning you can be finessing the fine art of the squat toilet on a grimy, jolting, clanky train; that afternoon in your favorite Bangkok salon, three angelic Thai aunties literally wait on you hand and foot (and hair), massaging your shoulders to boot. One day you are exploring ancient ruins; another your partner is digging a tick out of your side. One morning you awaken on ship, amidst the mist and islands of an amazing bay; that afternoon you wonder if the gent hosting tea is former Viet Cong. . . .

[Queue Gilligan's Island theme]

Along with nine other intrepid adventurers, we set sail aboard the junk Santa Maria for a three-day tour (a three-day-ay tour...). Along the way, on foot and in kayaks, we explored some amazing caves and a village complete with school floating in the bay beneath monolithic karsts. On the second day, as we were on a longer tour than others, Eric and I transferred boats and were taken to a small, empty cove, where, just for us, the crew set up a beautiful wooden table and chairs, linens, lovely crockery, and a delicious multi-course Vietnamese meal. That afternoon, we pulled up close and waded ashore to the northwestern side of Cat Ba Island. This part of the island is shaped like a crown, with high walls all around a central valley, all of it dense forest. So from the water, the guide, Eric, and I stepped up to a vertical trail of wet rocks and mud, held on where we could to vines, trees, and boulders, climbed, and climbed, and climbed, then descended into the valley. Along the valley path, dogs barked as we approached a small farm. The farm wife ran out to greet us, mostly in enthusiastic Vietnamese, and we were led to a small open shack containing a long table and chairs, and a platform containing a bed mattress. Across the path sat the other building of the home: a small shack containing pots, pans, a counter, food, and a washbasin. Between the shacks was a fire pit. The farm wife spread grains of corn and chickens and chicks came running. We sat at the table, across from the wife and her husband, who served us green tea from a large, ancient thermos. As we chatted he graciously kept refilling our cups. The couple was in their seventies (he told us he was 73). His right eye was permanently closed shut, and he wore an old, green, hand-sewn Army-type shirt that said "Viet (Thung? Hung? I can't remember now. Might have been his name, actually...)" The couple has lived on this farm for thirty years. While we were there, they had a visitor, who had walked through the jungle the eight kilometers from the nearest village. Walking to that village is also how the couple shops for what they need and visits others on the island.

After our tour, we had the boat let us off on the other side of Cat Ba Island, where there is a small town and a few hotels and beaches. We had one morning on the beach and then the weather got cold, so we had some time for walks, reading, and recuperating from our earlier jungle trek.

(Note: My pictures have taken a detour; see this site for pics of Ha Long Bay, junks, caves, and the floating village)

http://www.terragalleria.com/vietnam/vietnam.halong.html