Arriving in Hanoi from Dong Hoi was somewhat disconcerting; in four days, I had forgotten the frantic pace of the city, the sounds of motorcycles and women blowing horns to collect trash permeating thick, gray smog.  Hanoi (which means ascending dragon) is a maze of tall, colorful, skinny buildings, built in such a fashion so as to avoid the high prices of property per square meter.  There is a slightly different sentiment toward westerners in the north.  People smile a little bit less, although compared to the rest of the world, the good will is still abound.

Sara and I hopped on a cruise boat – the Paloma – to see Halong Bay (descending dragon), which is a beautiful five hour drive east of Hanoi.  Halong Bay is one of the new Seven Natural Wonders of the World, an infinite labyrinth of limestone structures rising out of the green waters of the South China Sea.  An elephant made out of towels greeted us in our cabin.

After a ten-course lunch (a cruise is a cruise is a cruise), we left our boat to kayak around a fishing village buried deep in the heart of the jungle-clad islands.  Most of our boat decided to be rowed around on small, wooden row-boats, “manned” by small, incredibly strong Vietnamese women.  Soon enough, Sara and I were considered Olympic kayakers by our cruise companions.  We paddled ahead of our group to wave to the local people, swinging from hammocks or fishing for squid from their floating homes.  We reached a sort of stone tunnel – a little eyelet – that led to the open ocean, laughing again in disbelief at the splendor of our natural surroundings.

We celebrated Tet, the Lunar New Year, aboard the Paloma, returning to Hanoi the next night to search the streets for pho.  Most of Hanoi was quiet.  The city had an calm, eerie feeling to it, punctuated by the sounds of families drinking rice wine or the occasional motorcycle speeding to deliver a toy to a waiting child.  Backpackers roamed the city like scavenger dogs, finally settling on a solitary sidewalk pho vendor who was prepared to profit off of hungry tourists.  She certainly profited off of us, and as we slurped ourselves to a satiated oblivion, we certainly didn’t mind.

We are now flying from Hanoi to Luang Prabang, Laos.  We have no idea what to expect, although we have nine days to explore jungle, hike to waterfalls, determine our own answer to the riddle of the “plain of jars,” and tube down the Nam Song River in Vang Vieng.  Vietnam could not have provided us a more gracious and breathtakingly beautiful welcome.  If the rest of our trip is anything like the last ten days, well, words simply don’t suffice.