Only OK

On our boat in Ha Long Bay.

Again, apologies for the long gap in blog posts. We’ve been very busy this winter break: boating and kayaking through Halong Bay, climbing Vietnam’s highest peak, visiting the sights in Hanoi, and even watching the Chipmunks 2 movie (kids liked it, but two hours of squeaking is enough to drive a grownup cuckoo in the coconuts!).

To see a photo slideshow from our Halong Bay trip, click here or on any of the photos in this post.

After a lovely Christmas Day (there seemed to be a “wheels” theme this year, with rollerblades, skateboard, scooter, and a bicycle among the loot) the whole family set off by bus with Joanie’s cousin Francesca and her boyfriend Andrew for trip to Haiphong and Ha Long Bay east of Hanoi. Ha Long, which means “descending dragon” in Vietnamese, is a UNESCO World Heritage site, a place of 1,600 small islands and steep limestone cliffs. Our plan was to hire a boat to take us on a kayaking and hiking adventure.

After a bumpy bus ride, we arrived in Haiphong, a major port city connected by rail, road, and river to Hanoi. Our bus was supposed to drop us at a ferry to Cat Ba Island in Halong Bay, but instead we found ourselves unceremoniously marooned at a nondescript intersection and no information. A helpful Vietnamese woman, however, helped us find the bus company that could provide us with the additional bus and ferry trips needed to get to Cat Ba town, where we would spend the night and begin our boat ride.

After lunch at an amazingly busy chicken restaurant (we had the grilled and the “hot pot” chicken, both of which were superb) we hopped on another bus for a bumpy ride through an industrial wasteland to the end of the Red River Delta. From there we boarded a fast ferry for a quick crossing to Cat Ba. Then yet another bus on winding roads across Cat Ba Island to the town and our hotel.

We were met in Cat Ba town (which feels vaguely like Juneau, of all places) by Tim Ohlsson, owner of Blue Swimmer, an adventure tour company. He took us to out hotel and the outfitter headquarters. Tim is originally from Pocatello Idaho, and moved to Cat Ba several years ago to work for a climbing guide company. He then forged out on his own, buying Blue Swimmer a few years ago. His company leads climbing, kayaking, boating, and hiking adventures on Cat Ba and in Halong Bay. He’s a laid-back dude, a classic mellow guide. He has an adopted Vietnamese daughter and a fondness for the “island time” pace of Cat Ba.

Floating village, Ha Long Bay.

Our hotel was a great little place tucked beneath a cliff, and it overlooked a harbor filled with colorful boats. There were even a few bolts and climbing routes on the nearby cliff, but Andrew and Francesca (the rock climbers in our group) said the routes were actually quite tricky (not to mention the web of electrical wires at the base…now that would add extra excitement to your belay!).

After a huge meal of delicious fish, grilled shrimp and Vietnamese veggies, we headed to bed early. The next morning we boarded our boat, a junk-like sailboat with a small cabin below, and a covered deck above stocked with bean bag chairs for lounging. The sails stayed stashed, and we motored all the way on our journey. With four kayaks in tow, we began our meander through the islands and rocks off Cat Ba Island.

Not far from the harbor, we encountered a fascinating village on the bay. Literally on the bay. Hundreds of floating houses painted green and blue bobbed in the sea. The villagers who live here are mostly fishermen. Aquaculture is also very popular, and some of the “farmers” raise oysters for pearls. Since the cliffs are steep all the way to the shoreline, people have taken to living directly on the water. The houseboats are small and modest, and tiny “basket boats” bring kids to school, wives to shop the floating markets, and husbands to cast their nets in the fishing grounds.

The cliffs and limestone formations soar out of the gray waters…this is a landscape similar to China’s famous Guilin region, but with the sea at the base of the mountains rather than rice paddies. Sandy beaches lie snug beneath sheer cliffs. The swiss-cheese rock is filled with caves and nooks and strange, eroded formations. It was great to lounge about on our personal boat as we watched the fantastic scenery pass by. Halong Bay is a huge tourist circuit, and we were happy for our own boat, our own guide, and an itinerary off the beaten waterway.

Quiet beach, Ha Long Bay.

In early afternoon our captain dropped anchor off a series of green, rocky islands and we squeezed into the kayaks for a paddle. Luckily, we’d asked for PFDs and got them, since the girls (who are not yet strong swimmers) had to sit in our laps in the one-person sea kayaks. We’re not exactly expert kayakers so the life vests were a relief. But the water was calm, and we soon made our way to an empty beach littered with colorful seashells. The girls splashed on shore while Joanie and I wandered, did a little yoga, and poked around a simple temple built above the beach.

The weather up till then had been warm and delightful, but by early afternoon gray clouds started to gather. Then a warm downpour opened up. We sought shelter under a limestone overhang and watched the rain fall. After it let up a bit, we popped into our kayaks and paddled toward our trusty boat. We were rained on during the paddle, but it was relatively warm.

Meanwhile, Andrew, Francesca and our guide–a fun and talkative Vietnamese man named Trong–went for a longer paddle. They threaded kayaks through narrow inlets and watery caves. They eventually reached a sandy little passage, where they portaged their kayaks over a short distance and then headed back to the boat for lunch.

The rain didn’t let up, and it became colder. After lunch we bundled up, watched the islands float by, and drank beers, ate chocolate, read books, and played chess (Fiona has just started learning). Rainwater from the top deck was dripping down into the small cabin below. Our guide informed us that our plan to spend a night on the boat wouldn’t be very comfortable. So we changed plans, electing to spend the night in Viet Hai village, further north on Cat Ba Island.

Out for a paddle with Fiona.

In late afternoon we arrived at a stone dock where we were met by a pack of motorcycle taxis. All of us and our luggage squeezed onto the backs of the bikes and we went for a breezy ride. We buzzed through a landscape of cliffs, lush forests, and winding, narrow roads. Fiona and I shouted woohoo! as our roller coaster of a xe om ride took us up over a 15 percent grade and then down into a lush valley.

Viet Hai is a tiny farming village of rice paddies and water buffalo, a kind of mini Mai Chau in the center of Cat Ba Island. In the village, we were taken to a series of concrete-and-thatched-roof “tourist bungalows” that were actually very nice on the interior (including hot water, shower, lights, mosquito nets, and travel size soaps, shampoo, and  toothbrushes). After sunset, amid the clucking of chickens and grunts of pigs, we had another lovely meal of Vietnamese food including fried spring rolls, stir-fried greens, chicken and fish.

The next morning, it was back on the motorbikes down to the dock and our second day of boating. The weather was cloudy but not too cold. Francesca and Andrew headed by basket boat to Cat Ba town, where they had plans to seek out rock climbing adventures over the next several days (Cat Ba has some amazing routes, which are just being discovered, bolted, and pioneered–this place will likely become a climber’s mecca in the next five years).

Our guide Trong, Joanie, the kids and I did more kayaking to another secluded beach. Fiona and Matilda played “store” with all the debris they found on the shore: empty lighters, mineral water bottles, and net floats among their merchandise. Joanie found two closely matched sandals, which she dubbed “flip flotsams.”

Then we paddled to Monkey Island. After crossing a beautiful white sand beach we ascended a trail toward the summit of the island. Reaching a ridge, we had fantastic views of Ha Long Bay, the beach, and our boat, serenely at anchor off shore. Reaching a ladder leading up the trail, we were stopped by a guardian. It was one of the island’s namesake monkeys.

A monkey stops our ascent of Monkey Island.

It was fascinating and uncanny to watch the large tan monkey with a peach-colored face eyeing us and blocking our way. We pondered each other for a while and the monkey occasionally yawned and showed his sharp canines. He began to peer past us down the trail as if saying to himself, “ah, my six hungry friends have finally arrived to outnumber the tourists.” We turned back, and the cheeky monkey followed us. We gave him a wide berth and returned to our kayaks.

The girls loved playing on the beaches, paddling, and playing games on the boat. That evening, we approached our second accomodation, a series of beachside bamboo bungalows on an island.

We reached the dock, a floating rickety thing about 200 feet long, with large gaps between each section. After a day of paddling, we were tired and longed for solid ground. The dock lurched and bobbed as we made our way to shore. Then, the dock abruptly ended with at least 100 feet more water between us and the shore! A few kayaks sat at the “end” of the dock.

Typical Vietnamese craziness. The dock was being repaired in the offseason. So, we somehow avoided plopping ourselves or our luggage into the drink, and paddled the remaining way to shore. It was peaceful there–once they shut off the generator for the crew building some new cabins–ah, the offseason! In the morning, I wrote a haiku about this place:

Quiet waters of Halong Bay
Cooking fire smoke curls up past cliffs
A cellphone sings.

Riding back to Cat Ba town in a basket boat.

The next morning, we returned by basket boat to Cat Ba town. These boats are amazing, and just what the name says: a woven basket sealed by some sort of tar or pitch. Everything but the engine is is made of wood or bamboo: the simple tiller, engine cover, the throttle. The ancient gasoline engine required a crank to start it (think Model T). The thing putts and rattles as it glides us homeward. We spy two kayakers and I take photos, only to hear Fiona say “hey, that’s Francesca and Andrew!” We waved to them–obviously they were having a good remainder of their trip.

The various bus and ferry rides home to Hanoi were uneventful. The girls were troopers, but tired by the time we reached the darkness, smog, traffic and predatory taxi drivers of Hanoi. We slept well, home at last. Strange to think of Hanoi as home now, but it is.

It was a great trip, although I remarked to Joanie that to someone less adventurous it might have seemed disastrous: the rain, the crazy motorbike shuttles, construction at the beach bungalows, a changed itinerary. But it was great to be out of doors and relatively solitary after the commotion and population of dear, dirty Hanoi.