So I Just Rode Around Ha Long Bay on a Giant Banana... If Ya Know What I Mean.

No, really, MASSIVE banana. It was awesome.

So, as the title of this post suggests, Sara and I just spent the last few days hanging out in Ha Long Bay, on a three-day trip organised by a Hanoi backpacker hostel. And it was wicked. Firstly, we got to stay on what I will boldly call a pirate ship. Alright, so it may have been lacking the typical black sails and Jolly Roger flag, but we all knew that if a pirate wanted a few days to relax and perhaps even out his eyepatch tanline, he'd pick our boat. Yarr indeed.

We went kayaking, which was cool except that I must admit my kayaking skills haven't improved much since Africa (at least I didn't have anyone yelling, "Are you TRYING to suck?!" this time). In honour of it being Canada Day, my fellow Canadian kayaker and I named our vessel Peter Mansbridge, and Sara and I sang a rousing rendition of Land of the Silver Birch, Home of the Beaver.

Ha Long Bay is, as goes without saying, stunning. Craggy fauna-topped limestone cliffs jutt sporatically out of the water like a frozen tableau of Whack-A-Moles. There's even a town of fishing folk on the water who's residents haven't touched land in hundreds of years. I think we drifted past the suburbs. They had pet dogs, which was a little confusing ("Oy, Bobby, did you walk Rover?" "Ah, I tied him up outside about an hour... oh sh*t!!"), and satellite tv, which was more confusing.

We ended up at a cave, complete with squeaking bats and still-warm guano (um... don't ask how I know that). My caving skills appear to be on par with my kayaking skills and, as in Nepal and Sa Pa, I had two people on $ue-duty, holding my hand so I wouldn't fall and retrieving my lost flip flop. *sigh*

The next day, we boated (yes, that's right, I boat) to Castaway Beach, the hostel's private beach on Cat Ba Island. Then, we got to go wakeboarding! Much to everyone's amazement, I actually stood up and whizzed around the lake for a while, even going as far as to wave to onlookers like a complete douche. I faceplanted shortly after, but still. Of course, Sara's experience was also a success. And there was something about that moment as I glided across the jade-coloured water beneath the late afternoon sun surrounded by what is quite possibly some of the most breath-taking scenery on earth that made me think: "Man, we are SO much cooler than most of our friends." Oh, sorry.

Which brings us to the giant banana--an obnoxious bright yellow inflatable raft that eight of us piled onto and were then pulled behind the boat. Oh, golly, the antics that ensued!! Special props to the Quebecois guy who fell off the back and, as he was dragged face down in the water, held on to the raft with one hand and his escaping shorts with the other for a good three minutes.

At night, we went swimming under the stars and enjoyed the phosphorous, which can be scientifically defined as little greenish glowy bits under the water when you stir it up really fast (move over, Attenborough). And of course, we spent the evenings drinking hot milk and discussing fiscal responsibility over friendly games of backgammon. (...what?)

In short, great people, great time--and we are both sporting decent-sized bruises and scrapes (mostly from banana boat wipe-outs) that when asked about we can casually say, "What, this ol' thing? Yep, got her in 'Nam." Score.