'Hanoi is a spell'*

A quick dip in the sea is a marvellous way to wake up. We proceed to spend a lazy morning on the beach where I read a few more chapters from ‘Life in Hanoi’ by Pam Scott, an account of locals’ and expats’ lives in the city.

Once again I come across the story of Christine Yu, who traded a luxury lawyer’s life in Hong Kong for the fickle world of fashion. She came to Hanoi with her husband and decided to use her imagination and the skills of the exceptional craftswomen to design handbags. The amazing part of this story is that her label made it onto the great catwalks of the world and onto the arms of famous Hollywood stars and important politicians. I make a mental note to visit the Ipa Nima store if we still have time when we return to Hanoi.

Back on the boat we enjoy more sights of islands and cliffs. We jump into the glowing lagoon for a swim before changing boats and anchoring in Halong Bay with many other traditional junks. The sun is just about to set over the surreal landscape. We’ve each got a Vietnamese beer in hand and on the faces of my fellow travellers I can see that it is not only me who will remember this trip as a highlight of my life.

When we eventually stumble into bed, Susi says: “The boat and all its facilities look exactly as it does on the brochure. We got exactly what we paid for.”

Friends and other travellers warned us that it is better to go for a more expensive tour organised by a tour company rather than a budget tour organised by a hotel. It turned out to be invaluable advice. The food on the boat is good, the guides are jovial and everything is clean and tidy.

Our last stop is the Amazing Cave, where Vietnamese soldiers used to hide during Vietnam’s many wars. Today it is set up for tourists with lights accentuating the natural wonder of the stalagtites and stalagmites.

As we approach the end of our tour a thick mist clouds the limestone cliffs and dark thunder rolls in. Soon it is raining and the whole scene takes on a fantastical edge.

We all become quiet. By now we are filled with about as much wonder as human beings can take in a few days.

* From 'Life in Hanoi' by Pam Scott

The legend of the soaring dragon

Hanoi was formerly known as Thanh Long, which means ‘City of the Soaring Dragon’. The legend goes that the dragon came down into Halong Bay and splashed its tail in the water to split the land into a million little islands so that hostile ships would not be able to navigate through it all and instead go down before reaching the shore.

Today we are going to see these karst islets for ourselves. We cross Long Bien Bridge on the way to the coast. The original bridge was built by the same architect who designed the Eiffel Tower and parts of it are still standing. During the American War (as it is known here in Vietnam) the US military bombed this bridge repeatedly and every time the Vietnamese built it up again. Apparently they only stopped bombing the bridge when US prisoners of war were made to build it.

Along the way pointy hats and water buffalo pop out of the rice fields and motorbikes overloaded with produce further add to the romantic scenery.

The limestone formations become more intense until the sea appears on the horizon.

Our little bus stops at the harbour where a host of traditional junks are lined up for tours along the Gulf of Tonkin. We board ours with only a handful of other tourists and sail off into a magical world.

In 1994 Halong Bay was declared a UNESCO world heritage site. I can’t help but think this is where the Vietnamese got their artistic eyes from. Being surrounded by such overpowering beauty must somehow inspire the locals to a higher form of craft than that of other Asian countries.

Soon it is time for us to do some kayaking around the National Park. Susi and I glide over the water as though it’s a smooth gem. The lagoon doesn’t sparkle. Instead it glows, basking the whole area in an ethereal silence. When I look up the limestone cliffs seem to be even higher.

We paddle through some small hidden caves. I find it dark and eerie but soon we enter into a small lagoon where the birds and the plants seem to be in their element. I don’t I think I have breathed in such fresh air, perhaps ever.

Paddling is hard work and neither Susi nor myself are very fit. So by the time we get back we are tired. We get into a different boat now as we are going to cross the open sea towards Cat Ong Eco Private Island where we are staying for the night.

We chat to our fellow travellers and enjoy a few local beers until we reach the island. Our tummies are rumbling and after a quick sunset swim in the sea we are ready for a feast. Small plates of Vietnamese delicacies arrive at the table: fresh and fried spring rolls, fish balls, stir-fries, barbecue prawns and fish, fresh dragon fruit, ah.

The crowd seems festive but I cannot keep my eyes open anymore. I close the mosquito net around my cosy bed in the bamboo beach hut and fall into a peaceful sleep.