01.04.09 – Aboard the Bien Ngoc junk, Ha Long Bay, Vietnam

The morning began with a viewing of Ho Chi Minh himself, preserved under glass in a mausoleum constructed by the Soviets. George and I had discussed earlier that we thought Uncle Ho might be spinning in his non-grave over how capitalist and American-culture-oriented his country has become, but his embalmed body remained motionless as we passed by it.

We learned from Ngoc, our wonderful guide, that Ho had directed that his body should be cremated and his ashes divided among three specified locations, but Russia and the Vietnamese Communist Party had disregarded his direction and insisted that his body be placed on display like Lenin’s in Moscow. His body is now sent to Russia for a month each year for the Russians to perform their secret preservation techniques on it.

The speed with which this country has opened up is amazing. As I said yesterday, there is scarcely a hint of communism to be found. George had expected Hanoi to be a drab communist city, something not much livelier than Pyonyoang, and while didn’t expect it to be nearly on the North Korean level, I was unprepared for the vibrant, open, essentially free society that we are seeing and experiencing. Ngoc told us that it has only been in the last three or so years that western fashions, revealing clothing, and sexual-based advertising have been allowed. Now they are ubiquitous. Capitalism reigns supreme, but the word is not used. Instead, “market economy” is used.

If anything, they have moved too far from socialism. Apparently they have no national heath insurance, parents have to pay to send their children to school, and the nation has rapidly divided into rich and poor. However, we have seen no one who appears to be suffering the dire poverty that is seen in some parts of the world.

There is no feel of oppression in the country. Internet access seems to be unblocked. The newspapers contain stories from around the world from which nothing seems to be excluded.

We traveled by car from Hanoi for about three hours to reach Ha Long Bay. Along the way, we stopped at a pottery-making facility. It was a combination of individual hand-made artistry with assembly line techniques.

Ha Long Bay is a World Heritage site and one of the treasures of the world that is little known in the West. It consists of more than 3000 limestone islands and outcroppings shooting up vertically from the water, many rounded at the tops. The rocks, which Vietnamese mythology says are the remains of dragons that successfully fought off the Chinese in a distant past, are in a vast array of sizes and shapes. It looks much like the famous river area in China that is so often painted and photographed. I’ve long wanted to see that, but that’s less of a priority now that I’ve seen Ha Long Bay.

The sheer cliffs shooting up from the water are somewhat like those in Fiordland in New Zealand, and the smaller rock islands are reminiscent of those in the Cook Strait between New Zealand’s North and South Islands, but these are far more spectacular and numerous. Some of the sheer rock walls that rise to high elevations also remind me a bit of Yosemite Valley.

At a place called Surprise Bay, we entered a remarkably large cave with impressive stalactite and stalagmite formations. I’ve seen more extraordinary caves, but this is a good one.

The food on board the boat—which we have just to ourselves; Ngoc, George, and I are the only passengers with a crew of four—is excellent, and the presentation by the captain/cook is amazing. He cuts carrots, garlic, peppers, and other vegetables into flowers. The food itself was far better than that we had for dinner in Hanoi last night, which was many steps down from Madame Pham’s lunch.

I think Ha Long Bay moves into my top ten favorite places in the world, although it won’t break into the top five.

We’re still trying to figure out why we’re being treated so specially. I think most of the American tourists who have been coming to Vietnam in recent years probably do not go to Hanoi and the north, and maybe they hope we’ll spread the word.

— RSM