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Stretching along the Northeast Vietnamese border with China it comprises thousands of limestone karst outcroppings and more than 750 islands of all sizes that dot the emerald waters of the Gulf of Tonkin.

Halong Bay
Halong Bay is one of the most spectacular, and therefore heavily ‘touristed’ attractions in Vietnam. Stretching along the Northeast Vietnamese border with China it comprises thousands of limestone karst outcroppings and more than 750 islands of all sizes that dot the emerald waters of the Gulf of Tonkin.

Legend has it that the bay, ‘Descending Dragon’ in Vietnamese, was named after a family of dragons sent by the gods to help the Viet people repel Chinese invaders. Spitting emeralds and jade (the islands) into the waters of the bay they created a natural defensive area that helped protect what became Vietnam. After their success the dragons liked the area so much that they decided to stay. They weren’t alone in their high opinions of the landscape - the area was formally inscribed as an UNESCO World Heritage site in 1999, which of course led to an even greater influx of local and foreign visitors.

Getting to Halong Bay from Hanoi couldn’t be simpler - the hard part is making a choice between the hundreds of hotel tours and local operators. We were very happy with the tour we arranged through our hotel, and after chatting to other travelers who had been to Halong it seems that we had one of the better trips. The vast majority of options center around either two days and one night or three days and two nights in Halong. We chose the longer option and were glad we did.

Our trip began with a mini-bus ride (of about 3 hours) from our Hanoi hotel (where we had left the bulk of our clothes and large backpacks) to Halong Bay town. Our local guide, Son, took great delight in explaining with a huge grin that we shouldn’t worry about the 3000+ Vietnamese who die each year in the crazy traffic here because “Viet women and men make many many babies!”. At the port we boarded our luxury junk (traditional Viet sailing vessel) with about ten other tourists. It was to be both our transport around the Bay and our lodging for the first night. One note here for future travelers - be advised that although the tour to Halong Bay tends to be very reasonably priced (including all meals), they try to make up for this by charging exorbitant prices for drinks on-board ($25+ for wine, $3+ for beers etc) - and for all drinks that you bring aboard or buy on outings and bring back you will be charged ‘corkage’ - ranging from $5 per bottle of wine or 5000 Dong per bottle of beer (this applies to all drinks except water - so bring plenty of that with you to avoid the outrageous prices).

Our first day, which was the least enjoyable, was spent exploring “The Amazing Cave” - which although admittedly rather large was perhaps a little too developed (and therefore less amazing than it probably was ten years ago) - the best part of which was at the exit from which vantage we captured some of our best photos in Vietnam so far. Aboard the junk again we headed for a local swimming beach (on yet another island) - which was also a little less than we had expected in that the waters and beach were quite dirty - mainly oil from all the junks that moor there (Denise’s white bikini came out a dark shade of grey and we could write in the oil on our arms and legs). After the swim (and much-needed shower) the junk sailed to another picturesque spot and dropped anchor for the night (surrounded by about 7 other similar junks - we suspect that they are required to overnight in set spots). Dinner was very nice (mainly seafood) and it was super getting to know all our fellow travelers. We spent the rest of the evening playing cards with Phil and Kirsty (an Aussie couple from Cairns) and their brother Andy - welcome to the Blog guys!.

The second day was so much better - and the hazy weather had cleared into bright sunshine. After packing and a quick breakfast we all transferred from the junk to a smaller taxi boat (picking up some new travelers along the way - notably Lachy and Lisa, also from Aussie - welcome to the Blog guys!). Our next stop was the far side of Cat Ba island (the largest in the bay) where we each chose a bike and cycled about 7km inland passing some amazing scenery of local villages, rice paddies, mountains and forests. A short 3km walk into the jungle brought us to an abandoned ‘ancient village’ - which we had a few minutes to explore, before trekking back and riding back to the boat. We then took a short ride to the best beach we had seen in Halong - pristine white powdery sand, clean water, and sheer mountain cliffs rising out of the bay. It was here that we had some swimming/sunbathing time and that our guides set up our beach BBQ lunch! Great prawns, squid, fish, rice, veggies…ahh what a rough life!

After lunch we headed to yet another spot where we moored alongside some floating huts to pick up our sea kayaks. Denise and I discovered that despite our pretty much perfect match in almost everything we are not good paddling partners! Still it was great fun to explore the bay and the myriad islands by kayak - and we all ended up in a truly magical place - where a ring of islands form a solid circle with only one opening (a low cave) that leads into a totally enclosed body of water - something right out of a movie. Throwing caution to the winds we jumped out of the kayak and swam for a while - it was perfect. We wished we could have spent more time kayaking but all too soon it was back to the boat and off to ‘Monkey Island’ - which was less enchanting - four or five monkeys scampering around a beach where we killed time by collecting shells and skipping stones. Our final port of call for the day was Cat Ba (’Women Island’) town where we caught a short bus ride to our hotel for the night - the Holiday View hotel.

The hotel was quite upmarket by Halong Bay standards - very modern if lacking some warmth - and it was comfortable. We spent the night at a local pool bar with the others from our group and had a fun evening - made even more so by the fact that the Springboks won the World Cup!! Yay South Africa!! The next day was a traveling one - bus to the boat, slow boat ride back to Halong Bay town, bus over land-bridge to the nearest island for a final lunch and then a 3 hour bus ride back to Hanoi.

Halong Bay definitely has its plus points and is definitely worth the visit - but you do need to be prepared to deal with its less exciting and more banal side - bearing in mind that you are one of several million visitors every year.
Author: Wandering Spaulls
Here is a chance to experience Halong Bay:

Luxury cruises in Halong Bay: http://www.indochinasails.com/en/Itinerary.html
Deluxe wooden junks in Halong Bay: http://www.halongdiscovery.com
For more information about tours in Vietnam, click here: http://www.activetravelvietnam.com/tour.php?op=listByCategoryId&catId=3

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By Huyen Vu, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

Sapa biking tours

PU DAO, LAI CHAU PROVINCE, Vietnam — I told a man in nearby Sin Ho Township that not long ago a British travel company (Gecko Travel) rated this place as one of the top five trekking destinations in Southeast Asia. He looked doubtful.

To many Vietnamese, Pu Dao, a collection of villages in the northwestern province of Lai Chau, offers no touristic lure. A community of only 900 H’mong people, it’s isolated by woods, mountains, ignorance and poverty.

But the rating piqued my interest, and I wanted to experience the trails for myself.

After a three-hour bumpy ride from Dien Bien Phu City — the only city in northwest Vietnam — I got off the bus at Lai Ha Bridge, which spans a tributary of Vietnam’s longest river: Song Da. From there I watched oblong boats, the common means of transportation in the Northwest, drift by.

On the other bank, there was Chan Nua, a typical village of Thai people with stilt houses hiding under coconut fronds. Through the roofs, smoke rose, threading through the foliage, dispersing into the misty air.

From Lai Ha Bridge, I began the 15-mile trek to Pu Dao. The trail spiraled up into the woods, where millions of bamboo sprouts shot upward and thick groves were interwoven as it had never been touched by humans. In H’mong language, Pu Dao means high mountains.

Hong Ngai, the first village I encountered, was a light patch adorning the interminable flora of the region. Four or five wooden houses of Vietnamese teachers clustered around the local government building. Several bamboo houses of H’mong people squatted on the hillside.

I visited Ngo Thi Thanh Nuong, a 35-year-old woman, and learned about part of a teacher’s life working in a school in the mountains.

For 15 years in Pu Dao, Mrs. Ngo had been struggling to teach the H’mong children the national Vietnamese language, known as tieng Kinh. She visited every family, begging the parents to let their children go to school. To keep the kids coming back, she would buy them candy.

At the village’s communal water tank, I saw a group of H’mong women and kids bathing. Their naked bodies sparkled under the sun.

I ran into Pa Thi Lau on her way to get water. With a brown complexion, high nose and large eyes, Lau had the face of an Indian beauty queen. The little girl had nearly finished her elementary education when her older brother had another baby and made her quit school to run domestic errands.

Lau had nine siblings. Her older sister got married the year before and became pregnant at the age of 15, but the baby died at birth. Lau carried the 2-gallon cans toward the thatched hut at the corner of the soil path; her torn skirt tangled her feet.

I dropped in at the nearest house, where a villager was grinding corn. Around and around, the stone grinder lagged at every push and pull of the little woman, sifting layers of powder, fine and pure like flakes of snow.

Then I met Vu A Ca, the secretary of the local Communist party, on his way home from the field. A hoe hung loosely on his shoulder, sweat dripping from his wrinkled face. Nearby, a girl and a boy, about 9 or 10 years old, were crawling up a slope. The baskets of bamboo shoots on their backs weighed them down.

Night came in Hong Ngai quietly as if someone lowered a curtain. There were no electric lights, no TVs, no motorbikes. The village slept under a chorus of insect shrieks.

I spent the night in a small room with Vu Thi Quynh Hoa. The 24-year-old woman came to Pu Dao from Nam Dinh, 370 miles away, to work as the only accountant for the local government.

“A thousand years from now, Pu Dao will still be behind the present development level of the lowland,” my hostess said as she blew out the oil lamp before going to sleep.

The next day, I set off for the second village, Nam Doong, though Ms. Vu warned, “You’ll die halfway.”

I followed the only rugged trail linking the two villages; dry leaves cracked under my steps. In one stretch of glades, I could peek between the many tree trunks and admire white clouds and see mountain after mountain. Another time, I passed lawns full of rose myrtles with quivering young flowers.

I crawled along a narrow track between what seemed like a bottomless abyss and a topless cliff. Bubbling explosions resonated. From behind a hill, smoke spewed out — people were burning down the rain forest to prepare the field for a new crop.

Despite the country’s reported growth rate of more than 6 percent even in the global economic recession of 2008, despite the The World Trade Organization membership it received in 2007, this region — 350 miles to the northwest of Hanoi –still relies on slash-and-burn agriculture.

I approached Nam Doong to a chorus of goat bleats and cock crows.

A H’mong man named Hang A Pao came out to the dung-covered yard and said, “Hello.” He asked, “Where is it?” when I told him I was from Hanoi, Vietnam’s capital and the nation’s largest city. Mr. Pao invited me into his home, offering me water from a soot-stained kettle. Then he went to the oil lamp at a corner, stuffing tobacco into the pipe-stopper. One moment later, smoke filled the hut, and the man indulged in delight. The sun receded behind the mountains. Dusk brought the village to its fullest animation. Following a buffalo, a boy carried a younger brother on his back and a parrot on his shoulder. A woman bent down under a bunch of firewood with a plastic can in one hand, a hoe in the other.

As I left Nam Doong, I had to climb over a communal bamboo gate. The last villager coming home from the field had knotted it too tightly.

The moon floated over the top of the trees.

I thought of the “wood ghost,” which for thousands of years was the utmost power in H’mong people’s spiritual life. A story about a gold miner dying of marsh fever, or about the many H’mong victims of cholera came to my mind. I visualized the corpses wrapped in mattresses, buried in the shallow holes right by the trail I was walking.

The fires on the field across the valleys flared up, flickering like will-o’-the-wisps.

The woods opened then closed. The moon poured mysterious moving patterns on the path. Hoots resonated from the abysses. Rattles rolled down from the hills.

I looked up at the Great Bear to keep my bearings. The starry sky was peaceful as ever.

There were no electric lights, no TVs, no motorbikes. The village slept under a chorus of insect shrieks.

Huyen Vu/Post-Gazette

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