Halong Bay

Worn out by Hanoi's havoc, we are looking forward to relaxing overnight on a luxury junk boat and waking up among some of the 3,000 limestone karst islands that soar like skyscrapers out of the South China Sea.
Our escape route - a three-hour journey south by taxi - proves less than memorable. There is little to see of Vietnam's famous green countryside. Out of our car window we spy the odd paddy field, with humans and water buffalo hard at work, but, in the main, we are treated to a jumble of depressing little towns each one resembling the last, a couple of huge concrete power stations belching smoke into an already polluted atmosphere, and thousands of cars, buses and motorbikes jockeying to get the better of each other along the tedious and pot-holed highway.
When we eventually arrive at haze-shrouded Halong City after what seems an eternity we find a sprawling ugly high-rise port, but we haven't come to see this gateway to the Bay, rather what lies beyond its shoreline and eagerly wait to board the Chinese-style junk waiting to take us on a new voyage of discovery.
We have been advised that you get what you pay for with these boats - we have seen some trips advertised for a rock-bottom 20 dollars, and have read some horror stories. How about rats running around, just for starters, not to mention lousy service, rubbish food and, in the most extreme cases, junks actually sinking (tragically one - 12 people lost their lives - went down just months ago).
It's a no-brainer. Splash the cash, it is then - and we are glad we have when we see The Valentine. She's a beauty. Our ensuite cabin (there are only five on the vessel) for the next 36 hours is a spacious affair of deep wood, the bathroom one of the best we have seen in our entire lives - and, yes, it even has a luxurious bath (something we have hardly encountered in seven months of travelling). Our bedroom features a huge window to watch the world - sheer vertical islands, topped off with dense jungle and forests, and boats of all shapes and sizes - as we glide by on jade-coloured waters so calm we feel we are cruising on a lake rather than the sea.
Bedroom inspection over - wow factor 10 out of 10 - we head up on deck to meet our fellow travellers - a charming guy, Alex, from Brazil, and three happy-go-lucky couples from Northern Ireland. The three men - Charlie, Tom and Peter are avid Ulster rugby supporters. (Well somebody has to be, we figure - and they rub up us 'Welshies' mercilessly too). Even Alex confesses to preferring rubgy to soccer (never thought we'd hear that from someone hailing from Sao Paulo).
After quick introductions all round it's time to eat. We admit to having had a bit of a splurge when it came to choosing The Valentine. What we hadn't counted on was the magnificent blow-out five-course deluxe Vietnamese and international lunch prepared for us by the ship's own chef. Sumptuous does not begin to do it justice.
Post-lunch, it's an effort to even clamber to the upper deck to take in the bewitching beauty surrounding us, leave alone jumping off The Valentine onto a smaller craft which drops anchor at Dao Titop island. Once there we climb to the top of its mountain for a panoramic view of isles laid out like sparkling jewels in front of us.
Now that we are closer in among the karsts the haze has lifted, visibility is much better and we can really begin to appreciate the sheer beauty of this richly evocative and rightly-lauded region where mountains met the sea in such dramatic fashion.
A quick relax on Titop's small sandy beach (John braves the icy waters of the South China Sea, declaring it not unlike Gower's Pwll Du on a brisk April morning) and we are heading back towards The Valentine.
Next on the agenda is either a 40-minute spell of kayaking, or the chance to explore the largest floating village in Halong Bay. We choose the latter option - and it proves a rewarding experience, with a lovely local lady rowing us around the village, whose main income comes, not suprisingly, from fishing.
It's quite amazing to see upwards of 100 small wooden homes - there is also a small school - tethered together and floating in one of the sheltered coves, and three-year-old children confidently rowing alone - a skill they seemingly learn and perfect almost as soon as they can walk, and a neccessity given that they live their lives permanently on water.
Back on board The Valentine we anchor for the night, relax on the sun loungers on the upper deck and watch afternoon turn to dusk before preparing for dinner - yup, five more delicious courses (but, by now, we are both beginning to feel like Mr Creosote from Monty Python's The Meaning Of Life).
After dinner it's back up on deck to wonder at a star-filled and moonlit sky before turning in for the night and being lulled to sleep by our gently swaying junk on still waters. We wake as first light seeps through our window - we have deliberately not closed our curtain to see what dawn will herald. We are not disappointed. The reflection of these mysterious and magical karsts on the water is postcard-perfect.
Feeling energetic? Then there is a tai chi instruction class on upper deck for those who want it - Chris does; John reckons on just taking the photos. Workout over (tiring taking all those pictures of Chris and the others in our group) it's down to the dining room for coffee, tea and pastries before a trip to Hang Sung Sot (Surprise Cave). Neither of us overfussed on doing it (Dan yr Ogof, Blue Grotto in Mallorca. A been there, done that sort of cynicism has crept in) but, in fairness, we find a subterranean wonderworld, with two vast and extraordinary chambers packed with stalactites and stalagmites. We take a loop walk through the cool interior of the cave, which we agree resembles something from a James Bond movie.
After a couple of hours we return again to The Valentine for breakfast and then it's back to the top deck for a last long lingering look at the scenery that rightly saw Halong 'where the dragon descends into the sea' Bay designated a World Heritage site in the mid-90s.
Back on dry land, we bid farewell to the crew of The Valentine and our Brazilian and Irish friends and start to put into motion plans for our next trip - to Sapa, a mountain village in the far north of Vietnam close to the Chinese border.
To get there we must return to Hanoi and board a night train to take us to the former hill station set high above valleys of tiered rice fields. It's a a nine-hour journey and another new adventure. Night Train To Sapa - sounds like a title for a novel, or a movie perhaps. Well we were talking about 007 only a few hours ago.