Grant Ha Long Bay
Posted Date: 3/7/20132:51 AM
Halong bay is a UNESCO protected area in the East China Sea. It’s famous for the rock outcroppings that poke out of the sea and for the one hundred or so tourist junks (ours is in the middle somewhere) that float around the area.
We booked a two-day, one night tour that included meals on the boat (which were excellent), and a nice shared double room on the boat with soft beds, a hot shower and a sea view. The trip promised a hike to the top of one of the rocks, a tour of the local caves and some sea kayaking. We got all of that for $32 per person, not including drinks, but Tiger beer was only $1. I’m generally pessimistic about organized tours, but this one delivered.
I sat on a lounge chair with my book as the boat left the shore. After ten minutes in the water, the auxiliary engine turned off. For the first time in a week, I noticed an interesting phenomenon. It was quiet. Nobody tried to sell me anything, there was no annoying music blaring in my ears and there were definitely no motorbike horns. It felt amazing.
We ate lunch on the boat and then arrived at the caves. They were huge and well-lit (thanks UNESCO). As we came around one corner, a red light shined on one of the rocks. “If you want, you can close your eyes, but if you look at it, you will see a penis and testicles,” said our guide, Han. He had a shy sense of humor about him that I really enjoyed.
Han was such a great guy. He seemed genuinely interested in our enjoyment but also in us as people. After dinner on the boat, the professionalism went down the drain. I had a long talk with him that night, which resulted in him inviting me to go spent a night with his family about 120km west of Hanoi. I had to turn it down simply because of timing issues. As I type this, I’m regretting that decision.
After the caves, we all took some stairs to the top of one of the largest rock formations. I’d post some pictures, but then it wouldn’t be as nice for you when you go, right?
At night, the eleven of us on the boat ate, drank and told jokes while enjoying whatever scenery we could see. Stewart asked Han if he had whiskey to drink, but he didn’t have any on the boat. Han got on his phone and had a quick Vietnamese conversation. “It’ll be here in 5 minutes,” he said. A row boat arrived later with a large bottle of Vietnamese whiskey and a twenty four pack of Coca-Cola. What happened after that, Nathan? I’ll tell you later.
I woke in the morning to Han knocking on the door, yelling, “Nathan, Oskar, time to get on your kayak!” Everybody else had already awoken and gotten in the boats. We quickly changed into some water clothes and jumped in the our shared boat, still a bit groggy. I was having a great time, as was Oskar as we paddled through water caves and into an untouched bay. Up on the cliffs, we could see monkeys jumping between the branches. Oskar got a kick out of trying to go as fast as possible, even with all kinds of other boats drifting slowly near us. I played along and occasionally ruddered from the back, knowing that he would have killed some old couple had he been alone. It was one of those manic mornings that I just love. When we got back to our junk, Han said it was time for breakfast. On the second floor of the boat, I saw pancakes with fruit and chocolate sauce. Yum. But I’m still feeling manic. Can’t I do something crazy? As I sat on the bottom level of the boat, I looked at Han with a mischaevious look in my eye.
“How deep is this water?” I asked.
“Very, very deep,” he responded.
“So if I, uh, fell off the top of the boat, I wouldn’t hit a rock?”
“No, no, if you can swim, no problem.”
I smiled and ran away.
Are you tired of seeing me jump off things yet? I just love doing that! After a few more jumps, I took a quick shower and ate breakfast as we returned back to the dock.
It amazes me how much a couple days away from loud cities can bring inspiration back so quickly. My manic mindset remained on the bus ride back. My mind and body were relaxed, but I was having all kinds of crazy ideas. This is what ended up in my journal, word for word.
April, that is…
There’s no word for it. It’s when the cogs that turn the gears in your brain are fully lubricated with synovial fluid. No quantity of pills, food, water, sex, beer or dong can bring it to you. It’s like somebody rang your doorbell and replaced the flaming bag of shit with a silver platter of shiny keys that open the locks on the doors you know you always had but were unable to open. Out of the doors come new thoughts that belong on paper, the pen serving as an immortal doorstop.
I just woke from a nap that I didn’t know I was taking. I wasn’t reading and I wasn’t looking out the window and I couldn’t have been doing anything else. This is a bus. I opened my eyes and came to that realization and congratulated myself. Sleep to me represents a game of 8 pin bowling. Having knocked down 7 pins last night, the past hour earned me a spare. A strike or a spare is a promise of a full day’s energy, both of body and mind while too many frames with pins left standing brings lethargy and failing health.
After I wrote the word, “health”, our driver honked incessantly at another rice paddy and I looked up. I began to focus on who taught these people to use their horns to grab the attention of nothing and nobody. I didn’t come to a conclusion. We had returned to the outer parts of Hanoi and I capped my pen. It had disappeared into the motorbikes, smog and smoke. It’ll be back and when it arrives, you’ll know.
Source: Nathan – bootsnAll Travelogues