Mixed Feelings

Halong Bay is a stunning place, no question and we wouldn't have missed it. However, we have mixed feelings about this morning's excursion.

It was a sampan trip around Cua Van floating fishing village. The problem? It wasn't watching them fish. We were watching them roll over and wake up, brush their teeth, eat breakfast and wash up. It felt like a complete invasion of privacy with no connection to local people. They did benefit as the locals were paid to row boats around for us but still, it felt like a Disney theme park ride and very wrong.  We did discuss it with the guides who tried to explain how the locals appreciated us being there. I cannot imagine the truth in that beyond a little monetary compensation.  I think it would be more interesting and correct to pay to see how the locals fish and happen across daily life activities more by chance rather than a train of small boats, staring into people's private lives. 

There were about 30 people on our boat and hundreds of boats travelling in the bay.  I imagine most of them pass through the floating village at some point given the platoon of sampans ready to be paddled round.

Interestingly, many of the houses were empty. The ghost town probably added to the sombre feel. The reason is because of an on-land relocation package that's been offered to the locals. It seems to be mainly to reduce pollution and ensure children go to school. Currently, children living on the floating village only get some basic summer schooling when the land based teachers have their summer break.  

On the way back to our main boat, there were kites flying around and a kingfisher dashed by too. That was our favourite part of the outing, for sure.

We enjoyed lunch and more admiring of the scenery on the way back to port. The road journey home was much smoother and quicker than yesterday's in the opposite direction. What particularly fascinated me was watching the various stages in rice growing. 

It's spring in northern Vietnam whereas in the south there are only two seasons and it was already summertime. So here, there was ploughing, planting, tending to and irrigating the paddy fields. Almost all of it by hand. We saw the odd small tractor, the occasional water pump and a few water buffalo, but apart from that, it was simply hard graft. People were crouched in wellies in thick mud building up the banks to contain the water; pulling trowels through the mud to create runnels; stooped over, planting neat rows of rice shoots; and swinging a bucket system like a pendulum to throw water into the fields. Painstaking and back-breaking work and no-one looked like they were slacking.  

The areas that we've driven through were quite industrial and dusty with the rice fields in between.  It was far from the romantic image of the conical hatted woman picking rice in a bright green field but it brought my old history lessons to life remembering all these tasks that we'd learnt about in school as kids. I've really loved the journey but am completely whacked now.