Sue had just the thing in store for us. Before we left Hoi An, she had called up one of her tour guide friends in Hanoi and arranged a couple of side trips for us during our time in the city. The first was a day trip to Ninh Binh, a national park about two hours south of Hanoi.
Our guide (coincidentally named Binh) picked us up at the hotel after an early breakfast. We hopped into the van waiting for us, and made our way out of the city. Binh kept us entertained with stories of day-to-day life in Hanoi. He also has a daughter about Mimi’s age, so we immediately connected over that. And yes, Binh’s daughter is already potty trained.
But can she open a can of soda?
Our's can’t either, but she looks really cute trying.
Our first stop that day was a small group of temples and pagodas that marked the ancestral capital of Viet Nam (predating even Hue).
It was a beautiful, fascinating stop, but it was hardly the main attraction. The real reason that we made the drive was a lazy river that winds through rice paddies and granite cliffs.
The community at the mouth of the river has banded together to create a system for visitors to float down the river with local fishers. It’s a one of a kind destination, and we didn’t want to miss it. That said, the last time we took our baby on a boat in this country, it wasn’t exactly a pleasure cruise. So we rearranged our itinerary a bit to make two trips down the river, letting us keep Mimi's two tiny feet solidly planted on firm ground.
We sent Tom and Helen down the river first, while Aimee, Mimi, and I explored the nearby village.
It was a tiny little town that mostly served the visitors passing through. But there were plenty of locals going about their business. Like most Vietnamese towns this time of year, the main plaza was covered with rice husks.
We’ve seen rice harvested in scortching heat in Hoi An, and planted on the side of a mountain outside of Sa Pa. But for whatever reason, watching this woman separate rice from grass made me realize how labor intensive rice farming is.
And of course, Mimi attracted plenty of admirers along our walk.
Watching people melt over our baby never gets old. We could have saved weeks of language preparation, and just learned the words chin tan (ten months) and em gai (girl). We would have been fine.
After about an hour or so, we saw Tom and Helen float back to the docks with big grins on their faces. So we passed them our daughter and hopped on the next boat. It didn’t take us long to see what Tom and Helen were smiling about.
As we floated down the river, all I could think about was how unbelievable beautiful this country is.
The river winded through rice paddies and granite cliffs for about thirty minutes, and then appeared to actually go under one of the cliffs.
At this point, I turned 13 again. "What?! No way! We get to go through a cave?!"
Despite the darkness, you could have seen my grin from a mile away. After we emerged from the cave, we floated through equally stunning scenery for another ten minutes or so, and then turned around to head back up the river. Which, of course, meant another trip through the cave.
Before we get back to the docks, I should point out how the villagers row their boats.
Every one of the captains--young, old, man, woman--held the oars with their feet, laid back, and essentially pedaled down the river. It was pretty incredible.
The river journey was yet one more magical Vietnamese experience, and only deepened our preemptive nostalgia. We’re really going to miss this place.
