It is the serpentine undulations of its limestone karsts that earn Ha Long Bay its name. However, the magic at the heart of that “descending dragon” saturates the whole scene.
It even permeates the rusting hulls of the endless string of vessels on the water. Their age and size no match for the forces that shaped this place, they serve only to provide perspective to otherwise unbelieving eyes.
At times the layers seem painted on like a simple water colour with fading hues. Some kind of Sistine Chapel to nature, both beautiful and imagined at the same time.
When we approached the famous Fighting Cocks things came in to focus more. The boats would loom in with reckless disregard for the shape of their bows, and yet still I felt like we weren’t close enough.
When our guide had asked if we wanted to kayak today, all hands had gone up. I think they were banking on this to subsidise the delicious seafood meal we’d had on the journey.
Paddles propelled our school of brightly coloured kayaks through low hanging caves. That was when I realised what a safe bet it had been for them. “Who wouldn’t want to be as close to this place as possible?” I thought as I looked around.
What I saw was every face in every kayak eager to drink in every detail of the panoramic lagoon. Whether it was circling the water, matching the circling Kites above us. Stalking the elusive monkeys somewhere in the trees that clung impossibly to those steep cliffs. Or just floating there together marking the moment with a shutter click. Everyone found their moment there I think.
Later in the Thien Cung Caves we would see amazing formations thousands of years in the making. Every size and shape to be discovered, every past and future image imagined, like a fortune teller’s dream. For me though, it was those kayaks that finally made me connect with Ha Long Bay.
Effortlessly pushing the waters away in a world of a thousand islands, sunset turning the beige cliffs slowly rose. “You could visit them all this way in maybe 2 months” our guide suggests. If I lived here I’d certainly try, but I doubt I’d ever claim to have seen it all.
