The morning started with another fantastic meal; plates of omelets, apples, and bread with butter and jam were served. The food served on board was very impressive! The fog was thick and heavy during the morning, but eventually rose off the bay in the afternoon. The limestone karsts were finally clear and visible considering how thick the fog was the night before. We happened to also drift by a couple floating fishing villages. These are communities of around 1600 people who live on floating houses and are sustained by capturing fishing and marine aquaculture. Originally there was only one fishing village, now there are ten. Apparently, as I was told by my guide, some of the people never really touch dry land, and that they fish and live on the floating islands most of their lives. Occasionally we got vendors rowing towards our boat selling anything from candy to hard alcohol. The hardest vendors to resist were the ones with their kids on board. I took a couple photos of them, so it was only nice enough to give them some money.

As a group of eager kayakers paddled around the bay, another tourist named Manik from India and I contemplated whether or not to jump into the bay. Our tour guide proceeded to tell us the bay is always warm, even during the winter season! I wasn’t going to believe him, but there was no way to test the water’s temperature from the junk, except by jumping in. At first glance the water looked relatively good, nothing unsafe like sharks or giant squid, so technically there wasn’t anything holding me back from jumping overboard. BUT, if you recall reading my Day 1-3 flight agenda, all of my luggage was lost! If I was to dive in, my only means of clothing was that tight underwear I mistakenly purchased in Singapore! I stripped into my bare underwear, jumped up onto the side of the junk and was ready to launch myself in. My dive wasn’t of an utmost professional pose, so please let’s not critique or post judging scores. As I hit the water and came back up to breathe, the water felt cold, but it wasn’t anywhere close to the Pacific Ocean back home. It was bearable! Just soon after, Manik jumped in. We tread water for a bit before deciding to dock back up on the junk. Our only means of return was the anchor rope at the front of the boat. I didn’t have much of a problem my first time, but Manik needed a helping hand. The rope was slippery, and because it wasn’t taut, balance was also a problem. I added a couple more jumps under my belt, but it wasn’t until the third jump I started to smell diesel around me. My eyes started to burn, and that’s when I quickly ran back to my quarters to rinse myself down. At the end, I was feeling ok, and I wasn’t exhibiting any mutant-like features. During lunch, we started sailing back towards shore for the journey back Hanoi. I hate when you’re getting all settled in, that you find out its all coming to an end soon. The drive back wasn’t anything interesting; it was pretty uncomfortable for the most part. Traffic started to back up before the city, and we were told there was a football match between Vietnam and Thailand for the AFF cup. This was the final game, and it would determine who would walk away victorious. The streets were packed with Vietnam flags, shirts, stickers, and headbands. Looks like they love their football here!

When I arrived back at the hotel, my stay wasn’t very long. The second I came in, I dropped everything, grabbed some money, picked up the film camera and left in a hurry hoping to finish off my souvenir shopping and grab some food along the way. As I was walking, the fans were getting ready and there were flags and t-shirts lining the streets at every corner and sidewalk. I happened to walk by a well-situated restaurant on the corner of one of the more popular streets in Hanoi. The joint was packed with victory-hungry individuals, with a beer in one hand and their chopsticks digging into their bowl of beef noodles in the other. I walked in wearing my Vietnam hat and a sticker plastered on my right cheek, nothing out of the ordinary of course. With their eyes glazed on the TV, it didn’t even phase them. Beer was served on the house as the first couple minutes of play were underway. Vietnam missed with a couple of shots just shy of the net; people were out of their seats, hands on their heads, and long groans of disappointment echoed the streets as neighboring restaurants bore the same pain. Thailand was the first to score, leading the game 1-0. The goal didn’t go over well with home crowd. I only stayed for the first quarter of the game; I still had some presents to pick up before the night ended. As I was scanning through a couple of nice vases, the streets awoke in an uproar – a goal! Vietnam fans’ longtime dreams came true as their talented striker Le Cong Vinh scored in the last extra-time minute of the match. The 1-1 tie was enough to beat Thailand 3-2 in standings to win the AFF Cup. Many smiles, shouts, tears, and screams were seen and heard on the streets of Hanoi as Vietnam won the AFF Suzuki Cup for the first time in history. Within minutes the streets were flooded with motorcyclist holding flags and screaming through intersections. With a population of 3.5 million in Hanoi, and 80% of them owning bikes, the streets turned into absolute madness!! I only had my film camera on me which I managed to go through within the first 10 minutes. I should have held off because the party had only just started. I tucked my camera to the side and decided to join the party. I ran out to the center of the street and started handing out high fives to speeding motorists. The rest of my night was the most memorable experience anyone can ever live through while in another country. Usually I would just be a tourist/foreigner in their eyes, but for one night I was one of them, a Viet football fan! What separated them from me was just the colour of my skin, but when they saw a foreigner celebrating their country’s pride, I was instantly the center of attention. As I stood in the middle of the street handing out high-fives to all oncoming motorbikes, people slowed down to give me hugs, offer me beer, and kisses on the cheek. I must admit, there were a couple times I was pinched in the butt, and I was sure they were all from men! It got hectic at times – two Vietnamese guys climbed my back so they could get higher, and two bikes sort of clipped me, tearing my favorite jeans. I didn’t mind, I was having too much fun, and at times sort of wished I had brought the digital along with me, but keeping it safe would have been a concern I didn’t want to deal with at the time. I was out there for at least three hours and it never stopped; it got so congested the bikes just stopped moving. As I started heading back to the hotel, it didn’t seem like the party was going to end anytime soon. The hotel was located in the Old Quarter, next to Hoan Kiem Lake, and if you had any energy left you’d be there, because that was the core of it all.

Vietnam’s warmth will definitely bring me back here again in the future. If I had it do it differently, I would rent a motorbike in the South and ride the coast all the way up to the North.

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