halong bay: i got rained on, lost a drone, and still want to go back

i’ve been shooting for over a decade, but nothing prepared me for halong bay’s moody skies. the weather app said 15.76°c, feels like 15.3, humidity 73%-basically the air is a wet blanket that swallows your lens cap. i stepped off the bus in halong city with a backpack full of gear and zero expectations, and within minutes the sky decided to leak a fine drizzle. perfect for moody shots, terrible for keeping my sensor clean. i hired a *junk boat for the day, one of those old wooden vessels with a crew that speaks more in gestures than words. the captain, a grizzled guy named mr. van, pointed towards the karst limestone towers rising out of the emerald water like giant teeth. we cruised past thien cung cave, a cavern so huge it has its own indoor climate. the humidity inside was 100%-my glasses fogged up the moment i took them off. i was trying to frame a shot where a sliver of light cuts through the darkness, but my lens kept misting over. good thing i brought a microfiber cloth; it’s now stained with salt and regret.

if you look at the map, you’ll see how the bay sprawls like a watery maze. we anchored near a tiny floating village where kids paddle wooden buckets to school. i asked a local about the best spot for sunrise. he mumbled something about ‘dragon’s eye’ and waddled away. i followed his vague direction and found a secluded inlet where the early light painted the limestone in honeyed gold. worth the 5am wake-up call. i snapped a few frames that didn’t end up blurry:

(those are borrowed from unsplash; my actual shots are stuck on a corrupted card-story of my life.) the Bay is a photographer’s paradox: breathtakingly beautiful one minute, a monsoon of tourists the next. i heard from a drunk irish guy at the harbor bar that the ‘premium’ sunset cruise is a total scam unless you bring your own bottle of cheap rum and a can of pepper spray for the aggressive souvenir sellers. take that with a pinch of fish sauce. as for food, i grilled a local on where to get the freshest seafood. he sent me to a street stall near the night market called “bà Lan’s.” the grilled squid was charred to perfection, dipped in a lime-chili sauce that made my nose run. i’d recommend it, but beware of the seagulls-they’re like tiny feathered thieves with a taste for calamari. i also stumbled upon a yoga retreat perched on a cliff (ironic, i know). the instructor said the energy of the karst is perfect for aligning chakras. i just wanted to align my tripod. if you tire of the bay, hai phong’s chaotic markets are a couple hours by bus. i took a minibus there one afternoon and was greeted by a symphony of motorbike horns and the smell of grilled banh cuon. definitely a change of scenery. but halong’s siren call is strong; i kept dreaming about those misty mornings. now, a few hard‑earned tips (from someone who almost lost a drone to the water): - gear: bring waterproof bags. not suggestions. i learned the hard way when a wave decided my lens needed a bath. - best light: sunrise before 6am, golden hour around 5pm. the midday sun flattens everything into a postcard you’ve already seen. - avoid scams: ignore the dudes at the pier offering “private caves” for $20. most are public anyway. - connectivity: sim cards are cheap, get one at the airport. the 4g signal on the bay is shockingly good until you’re in a narrow cave. i’d also read up on recent traveler experiences. this TripAdvisor thread helped me dodge a few tourist traps: TripAdvisor Halong Bay Guide. for budget eats, check out the Yelp reviews for “Halong Seafood Corner” - Yelp. and the Vietnam Tourism Board sometimes posts useful updates on ferry schedules: Vietnam Tourism. someone told me that if you Kayak to the far side of the bay, you’ll find an abandoned fishing village with cats that have six toes. i never verified, but it’s a story i tell my clients now. anyway, halong bay didn’t give a damn about my portfolio. it just existed, damp and dramatic, as if it’d been doing this for a few million years. i left with a fogged‑up camera, a stomach full of squid, and a newfound respect for weather that doesn’t care about your schedule. i’ll be back, probably with a rain cover and a better excuse for missing the golden hour. (oh, and if you decide to go, pack an extra battery*; the cold drains them faster than you can say ‘emerald water.’)