Vietnam

Part 2 Halong Bay and Sapa

I didn’t get any writing done over the next three days while we cruised around the islands of Halong Bay, in the Gulf of Tonkin, one of the most magnificent natural sights I’ve ever seen in my life. Think of the Grand Canyon in reverse: erosion wreaked by the ocean forming thousands of tiny islands that erupt like small mountains that are home to soaring eagles.

Please look here: bhttp://indochina-junk.com/ because my words and pictures can’t do justice to its wondrous beauty, nor to the luxury of the red-sailed, wooden Chinese-style junk (The Prince, with 2 cabins) on which we wined and dined like royalty. We took kayak trips to a beach to visit caves in the rocks and where they prepared a barbecue for us. On the last night we celebrated Patricia's birthday with champagne, music and dancing with our fellow shipmate, a handsome Dutchman, and the entire crew. I noticed a twinkle in the Captain's eye as we danced to music of the Beatles.

After our dream cruise, we returned to Hanoi where we caught the overnight train to Sapa, high in the mountains of the northwest region of Vietnam, near the Chinese border. It’s cold but sunny and we marvel at the panoramic view from the large terrace of our large comfortable room. The porters offer us a motorbike ride around the region. We hop on and take off on the bumpy road to marvel at the terraced rice paddies cut in irregular shapes out of the steep mountainsides, crossing the nearby pass to visit a stunning waterfall. Stunning mountain views all around. We pass through villages of “minority tribes:” black Hmong, Red Hmong, Dao people and Tay people, whose women dress in traditional embroidered clothing, with large earrings and colorful leg warmers. Patricia and I are glad we brought our anoraks and warm underwear.

After a delicious dinner of pork spring rolls and noodle soup in our hotel we light a fire in the fireplace of our room, turn on the electric blankets to warm our beds, and sleep like angels.

Next day a heavy fog descends on the mountains and the temperature drops to 40 degrees. Not only can’t we see the mountains we can’t even see our terrace. Bundled in all my warm clothes, plus the rubber boots I purchased in the market, we go for a three hour trek off the road, on a muddy track, to get a close look at a few Hmong villages. But now the rain is falling hard, the temperature drops again and it’s too cold for this thin-blooded West Hollywood Los Angelina.

We head straight to the only place in town with central heating: the five-star $300 per night Hotel Victoria, where we spend a glorious warm spa afternoon getting foot massage, aromatic oil body massage, soothing papaya wraps, and hot soaks in wooden tubs filled with flower petals. They bring us tea and snacks and we forget the cold for a little while.

Next day, the weather is colder yet and rainier, which is out of season. Patricia went back to the market and I stayed in our room, next to a roaring fire and the space heater on full force… finally I have time to write.

Why don’t we get out of town now? We’ve arranged for a private car to drive us to Dien Bien Phu tomorrow morning, a drive which my guidebook declares passes through the most scenic area in the country. I just hope the weather will be clear enough for us to see something.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NICO!!! Grandma loves you!