I’d booked the tickets, reserved a private junk boat, applied for visas and done an impressively conservative job of packing for my trip to Halong Bay, Vietnam. If only someone had passed that information along to the series of cyclones that struck the day before my planned departure.
Halong Bay, in the Gulf of Tonkin, is one of five UNESCO world heritage sites in Vietnam, famous for its breath-taking labyrinth of limestone karsts that rise in pillars out of the slate green sea. Although tourists rates are growing to this unique seascape destination, it is still relatively unaffected by human presence, and I wasn’t going to let a little thing like Mother Nature keep me from a geological oasis 20 million years in the making. So a month later I rebooked the plane tickets, took white-out to the dates on the visa applications, and gave another stab at my trip to Halong Bay and, thank the cloudless heavens, this time around it was smooth sailing.
I hopped a 5am flight from my home base of Bangkok, Thailand to Hanoi, Vietnam. I’d arranged the trip with three close friends visiting Southeast Asia for the first time. I’d spent a week showing them around Bangkok, visiting street vendors for cheap, tasty Thai food and tasteless t-shirts. I took them on a klong tour of the Bangkok waterways at sunset, which was a good palette breaker into the sweeping beauty of Southeast Asia. Their trip providentially coincided with the Thai Loy Kratong festival, paying tribute to “Mae Nam,” the goddess of water. As part of the celebration, I helped them make “kratongs,” the traditional banana leaf boats for which the festival was named. Once the sun set, we walked down to the lake at Queen Sirikit Center to ornament our little rafts with candles and send them afloat along with the other hundreds of kratongs drifting idly across the dark evening water.
After seven days in Bangkok, my friends had fully recovered from jet-lag and, although reluctant to leave, were up to the next stage of our journey. They were travelling on a pretty sizeable budget and decided to book a private junk boat for the cruise through Halong Bay to avoid the chances of being paired with screeching toddlers or lame tourists.
We were met at the airport by a personal driver; transportation was included in the $400/person package we’d booked for a 3-day, 2-night cruise. I slept most of the ride, reportedly missing gorgeous country side scenery, and woke up as we pulled up to the Halong harbor. The shoreline was teaming with junk boats, big wooden beauties, many with dragons adorning the prow; homage to the literal translation of “Descending Dragon Bay.”
We boarded and put our bags into the sleeping compartments, each comfortably appointed and complete with a private bathroom and porthole overlooking the sea.We set sail almost immediately, or rather, we set motor, as the thin red sails stayed wound at the mast; flimsy, pretty little things that lent an air of majesty to the boat but would do little to power the beast across the bay.
Once out of the congestion of the harbour, the sweeping beauty of the surroundings sunk in. The first day was overcast and the limestone islets rose out of the mist like a Tolkenesque dreamscape.
As we floated along, our guide, Mr.Si, pointed out white birds nesting in trees on some of the larger karsts, or rare foliage blooming on another. Every hour or so he’d rally our attention and say something like “look, over there – it is the woman waiting for her fisherman husband,” and explain a legend accompanying an oddly shaped karst. Mr. Si gestured excitedly to the curve that resembled a woman’s hips, the dip of her sad smile. For the most part they just looked like rocks to me, but I appreciated his enthusiasm.
On day two we got out the kayaks.The recent storms churned up garbage and debris which floated to the water’s surface. It was a strange balance, kayaking through the grandeur of the rock mountains, the sound of birds, broken only by the splash of an oar into water, and then … there goes a Bic lighter drifting past. But we didn’t let a little garbage keep us from enjoying the experience. The largest of the 3 caves we visited opened up into a water valley surrounded by towering karsts. We kayaked close enough to look at the flowers growing along the rock, and see monkeys climbing along thick hanging vines. It was remarkable.
On the third day, we made our way back to the harbour, watching as the karsts dwindled and the junkers multiplied. Just two nights on the Bay but I felt relaxed and renewed, like I’d been on a four week spa hiatus. In that small slice of time I managed to finish my whole book, drink four bottles of white wine, get a very cautious tan, take an average of 3 naps a day and still made time to eat, drink, swim, gawk at karsts, kayaks and generally did it up.
Great news everyone! I’m hosting another comedy show with Shawn Pearlman because remember how well the last show we hosted went? It went bad. And when you’ve got a good thing, or a thing that fails miserably, you stick with it! “Gimmick” is a biweekly stand up comedy show hosted by Shawn and I featuring the finest talent in the city. The show is free and hosted at the Creek ( they have $4 flautas, accept cards and have a full bar stocked with cheap beer and classy booze) at 10-93 Jackson Avenue in Long Island City. 
