Ha Long Bay

Sitting around 150km from Hanoi, Ha Long Bay is supposedly the place to visit when staying in Hanoi - it did not disappoint. Recently listed as one of the seven natural wonders of the world, it is a giant area sitting just off of the North Vietnamese coast where hundreds of giant limestone towers protrude from the ocean, forming a maze of coves and bays and some of the most stunning scenery this area of the world has to offer.

Day one saw us leaving Ha Long city on a seven cabin cruiser, bobbing up and down alongside dozens and dozens of similar boats, all pointed in one direction, forming an armada of tourists ready to invade the vast array of rock formations laying on the fuzzy horizon ahead. The scenery just grew and grew, each minute revealing more spectacular views from the top deck of our creaking wooden vessel. Immense stacks of rock floated past, coated in lush vegetation and with sheer faces of stone launching straight up out of the water. Wide glassy bays opened up and closed behind the chugging boat, surrounding us with crescents of towering shards of land, the echo of our boat's engine coming at us from all angles, and giant hawks swooping down from their cliff side perches.

As the sun grew large and pink, sinking slowly between the formations, our boat dropped us at a small beach where we swam in it's warm glow until it disappeared from view. Back aboard, and after warm showers, we ate and climbed up to the deck, now bathed in moonlight, to watch the stars shimmer over the platinum tinged sea. Although the first day was spent shoulder to shoulder (or fender to fender) with other day trippers, there was no escaping the beauty of the place, and fortunately, day two took us further into the formations and away from the crowds. The weather, however, began to turn, and the blue skies of the previous day were replaced by a sky piled high with gloomy grey clouds and heavy showers. With the portholes and hatches sealed, we chugged our way towards "Monkey Island" through driving rain, the small day boat we had switched to rolling and swaying on the rough waters. Our boat landed directly onto the deserted beach of this tiny tropical island. A plank was lowered and we were back on dry land again in the middle of a huge downpour. With my camera safely sealed in a waterproof pouch, we took to the hills and climbed up to the top of the rock on which we stood in nothing but shorts, t-shirts and flip flops, in search of monkeys.

It seems that monkeys don't like the rain (although we weren't too keen on seeing one up close, having heard how aggressive they are - 'sit down and throw sand at them' - was the advice we received for an encounter) but we were glad to catch sight of one as we were climbing back onto the boat, searching for any bits of food we might have dropped.

After a well deserved lunch in rather soggy clothes, our boat continued to Cat Ba island where we were to spend our second night. Again landing in a torrent of rain, we sealed up our rucksacks and virtually waded through the puddles on the small pier. Our luggage was loaded onto a scooter which zoomed off ahead of us and into the jungle. The second night's accommodation awaited us at the end of a 5km bicycle ride through Cat Ba National Park. 'One road in, one road out,' as our guide had said.

The next 30 minutes were unforgettable. Having joined up with two sisters from Canada, the four of us pedalled off along the single track road towards the unknown.  Rosie, Brianna and Hayley clad in plastic bag polkadot ponchos and I in nothing but my T-shirt and shorts which were already soaked. We whizzed along a long sweeping track which hugged the edge of a turquoise lagoon before climbing up into the thick jungle, cutting through a ravine and dropping down into the valley below, the rain streaming from the skies the entire time, filling wide puddles which exploded as our tyres crashed into them and pattering heavily on the giant leaves of exotic plants which reached out from the jungle at us . Crossing flat rice paddies, we entered a small village with banana trees hanging over the road and families watching TV soap operas in the shelter of their tiny single storey concrete homes. Lazy dogs raised their heads as we passed and children stopped their board games to say hello. After cycling through this perfect slice of rural Vietnam, the road ended and a small scattering of bungalows stood before us, surrounded by palm trees and tropical gardens and with a trickling stream running between them. We knew we had arrived somewhere special - a million miles from the noise and fumes of Hanoi.

The rain soon stopped and the land began to steam and swell as the sun burnt through the heavy cloud. After drying out for a moment and catching our breath, we loaded up a washing line with our wet clothes and headed out into the jungle again. This time, the air was filled with pale yellow butterflies, all enjoying the respite from the rain. They flicked and floated around us before landing on tree trunks like a hundred butterscotch leaves of velvet. Freshwater crabs scuttled across our path, splashing clumsily into tiny streams, and ants poured from the ground to devour the giant insects drowned in the rain.

We spent the evening drinking and chatting with our Canadian friends and some friendly Australians in a small bar in the village. Geckos chirped from the walls and large spiders lurked in the shadows beneath the thatched roof. Outside, the sounds of the forest echoed around the valley.  We finished our drinks, staggered through the darkness to our hut and slipped inside our mosquito net while another ridiculously-sized arachnid hung menacingly in the eaves above us.

Despite the unwelcome room-mate, we slept very well and woke early to the chorus of the village's cockerels.  Having enjoyed a pancake breakfast, we climbed aboard our bicycles and soared quietly through the early morning mist, back along the single track road to the dock. A small boat appeared through the haze and we said goodbye to our first (amazing) jungle experience. We then spent a few hours sailing slowly through the maze of rock formations towards the mainland. With the sun now scorching down on us from a clear blue sky, we laid out our entire, still damp wardrobe on the deck, along with a row of soggy Vietnamese Dong & US Dollar notes, and my still saturated Converse trainers.

It was, yet again, an unforgettable experience. We spent a few more days in Hanoi, savouring the atmosphere and revisiting some of our favourite eateries before boarding a sleeper train to Danang from where we took a taxi to Hoi An, a small ancient town on the coast, roughly midway between Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City. A picturesque row of bars and restaurants lines the edge of the river into which tiny floating lanterns are cast in the evening, and beautiful tropical beaches lie just on the edge of town - I think we're set to have a very relaxing week.