Down By the Bay [UPDATED 2/21/11]

I didn't see any watermelons grow, but some way better stuff.  About three hours outside of Hanoi by van, which came as a great surprise when it picked me up and just kept driving--I thought, then hoped, then prayed it was the van taking me to a nice spacious bus rather than my means of transport with five other people--I arrived at Halong Bay, spotted as a dalmatian with islands, similar to sea stacks in the Olympic peninsula and the craggy isles I saw off the coast of Pylos.  They raise their heads above the water, too rocky for habitation, but there are enough around so they don't get lonely.  I was under the impression that the temperature would be in the mid-seventies, but it hovered closer to arctic.  Bedecked in my shorts, t-shirts and flip-flops, the weekend proved very brisk, but once I set foot on land of some kind, the hiking and spelunking soon warmed me right up.

Instead of charming polished wood, like every single other boat I saw, ours was bright orange and blue.

Floating fishing village.

Making the most of my fifteen minutes in the sun.

Misty mountains.

I met two young Australian women in the van who ended up on the same boat as me.  They were taking a last-minute two-week vacation through Laos, Hanoi, Halong Bay and Sa Pa.  Thank goodness for them, or I would have been all by my lonesome with nine sixty-year-old Germans and one of their Thai girlfriends who must have been younger than me...It was seriously oogy.  The Aussies and I spent our entire twenty four hours on the boat trying to figure out what the other Germans thought about this arrangement, if Herr Geriatric Creeperstein had just picked her up on his Southeast Asian travels or if they'd been travel companions for a while.  God, how I wanted not to think about it, but found it difficult with her four-inch, fake Christian Louboutin boots staring me in the face.

Serious ooginess. :/

Fortunately, there was plenty to distract me.  First, we had a humongous lunch on our way to an island cave.  It was something of a trek up to the entrance, but the views were lovely.  I was expecting a pitling little cave, but it was more of a cavern, large tunnels opening to vast and expansive cathedrals of mineral.  The most popular formation was called Good Morning Rock, which the boat captain/guide described as a finger, but which everyone else (including the gaggle of young Brits in front of me who couldn't stop giggling after their first sight of it) would say resembled something a bit more...phallic...thus the name.

Holey giant island, Batman!

This is the cave we actually spelunked.

Small interior lake.

I'm still not impressed with their weird lighting choices.

If you look closely just right and down of the center, you can see a "finger-like" protrusion lit with red light--that is Good Morning Rock.

Here's a slightly blurry version of Good Morning Rock, in case you couldn't spot it.

The views outside the cave were even more gorgeous, and I can only imagine how breath-taking they would be with sun out in full force, glistening off the turquoise water.  It was only broken by these odd, kitschy trashcans.  At first glance, I thought it was a penguin, one of the Aussies thought it was a dolphin, but we finally decided it must--for an as yet unknown reason--be a killer whale.  Just one of those weird things touristy sites think tourists like, I guess.

It looks like I've been photo-shopped onto a beautiful bay background. ;)

Trash can. Now you know as much as I do.

There are a bunch of these women who row about from tour boat to boat selling snacks, real food, and shell and pearl.

No one in their right mind was going for a swim that afternoon, and although I would have been up for it, no one on my boat wanted to kayak either.  I was neither going to guilt someone into going with me (for fear it'd be the awkward, somewhat brusque ship captain) nor attempt to kayak for the first time by myself, so afternoon passed into evening from the window of my cabin.  After a huge dinner with seafood and rice and veggies carved into flowers, during which the Aussies and I compared diction (food baby=poo baby, bangs=fringes, condoms=frangers), I snuggled under two comforters and awoke early to a dim, drizzly morning.

Other, more adventurous bay visitors.

Breakfast, thank goodness, was comparably light, and we then set out for an obviously man-made beach at the base of a trail leading up a spectacular three-hundred-sixty-degree view of the entire bay.  It was so expansive, I just HAD to take another video for y'all. :)

The Beach (sans Leo DiCaprio).

It wasn't the ideal trip, with a lack of familiar faces and warmth, but Halong Bay is apparently gorgeous under any weather conditions.  I got to relax, stuff myself with scrumptious food, and meet some really cool people in addition to the views I'd been anticipating.  The highlight was most definitely at the little beach Saturday morning, the only moment the whole trip I was properly attired.  I abandoned my flip-flops and squished my toes in the sand, letting the Pacific water bathe my feet in water of a surprisingly comfortable temperature.  That experience was easily worth twenty four hours of shivering and teeth-chattering.

Finally, on an unrelated note, I updated Campuchia and From Russia With Love with the promised pics and videos at last.  I'm really starting to get lazy. :/

So, on 2/21/11 I'm also updating this post with news of a TRAGEDY that occurred last Thursday 2/17 at Halong Bay.  A ship sank, the largest recorded accident at the bay, killing twelve of the twenty seven people on board, including two Americans, one of whom is a recent graduate from one of the schools I've applied to for this fall.  I can't believe I was there just five days before this happened and just how lucky I am.  Hopefully the government will now be cracking down on ship safety regulations.  They should have been strongly enforced this whole time considering the vast numbers of people, especially foreigners, who the visit the bay every single day.  I'm one lucky girl. :/