Wednesday 26th March

Probably the most unpleasant awakening of the voyage so far. We were creeping along in thick ‘smog’ it looked like sea mist until we opened the veranda door. Stepping out I was caught in the back of the throat by the acidic taste of Xiamen’s finest pollution. It was most unpleasant, not the same as a bad smell, the like of which you get in some of the more ‘exotic’ cities of the world, the sort that hits you, then gradually subsumes itself into the general atmosphere before becoming part of the experience as you get used to it, until you no longer notice it at all. This was seriously, chemically unpleasant to the extent it was uncomfortable when you breathed in and we weren’t even there yet.

Whilst at breakfast gloomily staring out at the fog scape we had the announcement that we would be an hour late in arriving, we weren’t sure if this was good or bad news. Our tour was billed as ‘Leisurely Xiamen’ and we were (unusually) pre-warned by Cunard not to expect too much from the tour as the guides were students. This advice turned out to be correct, but not for the reasons given in their letter. Our guide (a young lady called Summer) was good despite being hamstrung by events beyond her control. Her English was excellent (and a subject she said she loved) but the microphone and a poor sound system, coupled with the barracking by an American guy who was shouting that couldn’t hear, unnerved her. The bus had, should we say, seen better days and the severe whine from the rear diff made normal conversation difficult, let alone hearing what Summer had to say. Summer also had difficulty with the driver who seemed to want to go the way he wanted, rather than the way she was indicating meaning that she was left to talk about areas that she had no information about and not prepared for. I am not sure how the trip had been sold to Cunard, but I hope they listen to the feedback (Cunard take note please!). But it wasn’t all bad Summer was excellent in pointing out the good in Xiamen (pronounced Sharman by the way). They had landscaped every bit of spare ground, even very narrow verges in an attempt to bring green into this concrete jungle and draw the eye away from some massive shabby/grubby apartment buildings. Right in the middle of the city they had built a park around an old sea inlet which had become marooned by various landfill schemes and called it Egret Park. In the centre was a statue of a nude washing her hair with an Egret perched on her shoulder. Summer told us that she was the Egret Goddess and she symbolised cleanliness as an Egret would not live where it wasn’t clean. She then rather spoilt it by complaining that the girl had a European face, not a Chinese one. We continued on to a stone dragon boat with stone rowers (paddlers?) which symbolised the strength and stamina of the Chinese people. Was I mistaken or did I hear echoes of Chairman Mao at this point. Anyway we returned to the bus, encountering on our way two our three other groups who had been told to make their own way across this park and were not at all happy.

Back on the bus Summer explained we would be passing some buildings built by European settlers which the Chinese called Horse Riding buildings because they looked like horses feet. Wider at the bottom than at the top due to the veranda roofs built to protect passer-by’s from the sun and rain. These turned out to be in a very rundown condition which was odd considering how proud they were of them. I did notice that quite a few of them also had gardens on their roofs. The publicity blurb in the daily programme told us that this city was one of China’s cleanest, we had a little difficulty with that statement. Perhaps the recalcitrant driver was determined to give us the warts and all tour. Things got a little better as we drove out along the coast to the second goddess who was broken hearted over some lost love. We only got bits of the story because of the background noise, but when we got there the statue was staring out to sea towards Taiwan longing to be there. (I could understand, goddess number two, I was with you on that). We were being inundated with beggars and peddlers, one was selling sticks of twisted sugar coated crispy bread like substance. His sales pitch consisted of repeating over and over again hello, hello, hello in a very high pitch voice. And perhaps he would have had some success were it not for the fact the bundle was tucked under a very sweaty armpit and it was being adjusted frequently by a very grubby hand. One didn’t like to dwell too much on what that hand had been recently used for. Whilst we waited for the rest of the coach to finish admiring the beach, the goddess and the bordering gardens, I noticed that a narrow strip of grass (about 10 yards wide) running all along the sea front had, at intervals, life size bronze statues of marathon runners. We were told that these statues were reproductions of actual runners in a marathon run in the city that had passed along this road. As we drove along we passed runner after runner, in all there was a total of ninety nine runners and towards the back was someone in a wheelchair being pushed by another runner and a very puffed looking overweight guy bringing up the rear. It was a very effective way of bringing a long, otherwise ordinary strip of grass and bushes to life.

Back in the city we were dropped off for an hours shopping in their main shopping street crossing a six lane road to get there. Drivers do not obey the pedestrian crossing rules of most countries so we adopted the sticky rice technique we had been taught in Shanghai, rush out in a group and stick together, they don’t like running into too many people at once it takes too much explaining why they didn’t see us all. We got there but we did feel a bit like those Africans getting their Sunday roast, oh! I forgot I didn’t tell you that story did I. (One for the pub then, when conversation flags. Don’t groan like that). Well shopping took all of ten minutes and we sheltered (sorry browsed) in a department store with air conditioning until it was time to repeat our sticky rice technique and return to the bus. Fifteen minutes later we were back at the ship thanking Summer for a lovely trip and telling her it didn’t matter that the driver was bolshy and the coach was too noisy because her commentary was excellent and her English was too. She ended up with a fist full of notes so I guess she was partly convinced, but we knew it had been a trial for her and not of her making. The day ended quite pleasantly because we went for drinks with a couple from Australia (Bill and Maxine) at our dinner table who are leaving the ship in Hong Kong. We spent a couple of hours on their balcony quaffing some very nice Australian wine and watching the sun sink into the skyline of tower blocks across the harbour before continuing around the dinner table. Thus ended our mixed day in Xiamen, following dinner we wandered around the upper deck for one last look before retiring. As there was not going to be any Japanese type farewell we decided against staying up to watch our departure at midnight.

Thursday 27th March

Meant to have a lie in this morning but for some reason we were awake with the lark and just as well really, because we were welcomed with a tranquil sea and misty morning that was bordering on eerie. I was checking the TV to see where we were when Carol said come and look at this. There, floating down our starboard side, was a disembodied island. When I say disembodied I mean we couldn’t see the sea that far out, all we could see was this little peak in the mist. So I took a photo. If I can get them uploaded in Hong Kong tomorrow you’ll see what I mean. We were sailing through the last bit of the Taiwan Strait before entering the South China Sea again and as I may have mentioned before this is a dirty area. We really are sailing through some muck, if they had been searching for that aircraft here they would have had the devils own job finding wreckage. I know you shouldn’t speculate but I don’t think that it is all coming from ships, even though we are in busy shipping lanes, most of it must be coming from the shore line we are sailing down; China. Still not much we can do about it, at least the weather is continuing to warm up and tomorrow is forecast to be 29°C. In Hong Kong.

Today’s talks were the final one from Ian Brown on Kenneth Noyes, (not a very nice man and getting out this year) and Robert Winston Q&A session. They are both getting off in Hong Kong, don’t know who will be our next speakers for the final leg. Can’t believe we are in the final leg so soon, time has flown by. Must go as we want to be up on deck for entering Hong Kong which means a 6am rise.

Monday 31st March

Arrived in another mist shrouded port and another scenic arrival, that together with the fact that there are nearly two thousand islands in Ha Long Bay probably accounts for the reason that it was created a UNESCO world heritage site in 1994. That, together with being widely regarded as one of the most beautiful bays in Vietnam. It has some spectacular cliffs that rise straight out of the sea and many of them have weird shapes that look like dragons and gargoyles, which probably accounts for the many legends and stories that abound here. In fact the name Ha Long means ‘where the dragon descends into the sea’ but the story is far too long to recount here so that’s another one for the bar on a stormy night I’m afraid.

We went on a large junk which was quite an experience, there was plenty of room we were not crammed in but as we pulled away we were descended upon by small sampans and they clambered up the sides of the junk clutching bunches of bananas and (would you believe) tiny babies. They were trying to sell us things as we sailed across the bay but after ten or fifteen minutes they sort of fell away and set off chasing the next junk, what our social services would make of that beggars belief. The journey across the bay was a very quiet and tranquil one, during which we were served Lotus tea and when we finally arrived at our destination we made our way into The Heavenly Palace Grotto, a huge cave cleverly lit with variously coloured lights. The cavern was carved out of the limestone and the water erosion had left all sorts of strange shapes and feature, including the usual stalagmites and stalactites. There were the usual stories about dragons and demons and some rather rude ones surrounding the more erotic shapes naturally carved out of the rocks by the action of water, unfortunately after listening to one of these the ships official photographer, a young girl caught us up and asked what she had just missed whilst filming the part of the cave we were in. When I explained as tactfully as I could she went bright red, said oh! and then, “well perhaps we could use the footage without a description”. I didn’t say anything, but smiled to myself when I thought of someone taking their cruise DVD round to show great granny and suddenly a large stone phallic complete with stone appendices appears on screen without an explanation. Nervous coughs and people saying ‘so how have you been keeping?’ We spent about an hour wandering round the various parts of the cavern finally exiting on the far side, high on a cliff face. As we descended down a narrow stairway carved into the cliff face, we were diverted into a mandatory gift and souvenir shop which was sort of stuck on the side of the cliff face. On the outside of this shop was a rickety wooden platform from where you could take pictures. I took a couple and when I turned to leave my way was blocked by more people pouring on to this tiny wood square. Nothing for it but to push against the tide saying “if I could just get through there will be more space for you”. When I got back on to the steps and looked back the whole shop was creaking and groaning under the sheer weight of people pushing on to it, even the shops owner was looking worried, still it was only a couple of hundred feet up. We carried on down the twisting trail, descending through overhanging trees, thick creepers and wet undergrowth. There was an eerie silence broken only by strange bird calls every now and then, not a breath of wind and the humidity hung heavily this low down. You could understand why the Americans did not like this type of terrain and sprayed it with Agent Orange, we occasional rounded a corner to see, someone sitting motionless in the shade, only really visible because of the cigarette they were smoking (park officials? I didn’t asked, the expression on their face forbid it). We finally reached the bottom where we found our junk tied up at a jetty (it had sailed round from where it had dropped us off).

Boarding again we set off on a tour through the hundreds of tiny islands, the sea mirror calm and our speed barely walking pace. It was an amazing experience, round first one then another and so on, in every direction we looked were these islands rising vertically (some to over 700 feet and more) from the sea, impossible for anyone to land on as they were sheer to the top, flattening out sufficiently for trees to grow on. Unexpectedly we came upon a floating village, small houses built on platforms all moored in a group under the shelter of a towering cliff face. Strangely enough each one was numbered, each number exactly the same size and painted in exactly the same off white colour. It would take the postman a long time to do his round. Drifting past there was hardly a sound and very few signs of life, save for a dog racing up and down one of the platforms. Emergency rations? There was even a floating bank, Carol asked, “Is that what they call Off Shore Banking?” when we finally found our way back into open water we set off back across the bay towards the ship in the far distance. Nearing our destination we were once more besieged by the baby bearing souvenir sellers, how they managed to keep their balance, hang on to the baby and their souvenirs is a mystery. Thinking about this, as Vietnam is one of the few remaining communist states and communist states boast there is no poverty as everyone is equal, how come there were so many destitute beggars in small boats surrounding the ship? No doubt their politicians would have a glib answer for this. Any way that’s it for today, More Vietnam tomorrow in the form of Chan May.

Tuesday 1st April

Woke up today expecting to be closing in on Chan May, unfortunately we were eighty miles out. We had some sort of problem with our Auto Pilot last night. The ship normally steers itself using computers similar to Auto Pilot on civil aircraft. These were set on our departure from Ha Long but during the night something seems to have gone wrong and we headed off in completely the wrong direction. The system is normally so reliable that no one noticed for some time. It was only when the sun began to rise and an alert lookout noticed that it was rising on the wrong side of the ship, that anyone realised something was wrong, by which time we were miles off course and to say that it caused a bit of a stir is something of an understatement. An embarrassed captain came on the ships tannoy apologising for the error and saying that it had now been corrected but we would be at least two hours late in arriving. He had to consult his map to find out where the error had taken us and not being used to navigating with maps (sorry charts) this took some time. He told us that those who had booked tours could cancel if they wished, but all tours would go ahead at the delayed time. However this in itself caused some problems as some tours were scheduled for eight hours which meant that the last two hours of the tour would be conducted in darkness.

Luckily for us we were not on a tour so we had some time to ourselves before taking the shuttle into ‘town’. We were docked in a little deep-water quay which from the look of it was used for the export of rock from the local quarry. We spoke to a few people who had cancelled but from the number of coaches leaving it seems that the majority had gone ahead. We finally got the shuttle which deposited us at a downtime resort where we were besieged by a large number of locals selling everything from taxi journeys to all the usual trinkets on trays they were the ultimate sticky toffee papers, we just could not get rid of them. We got some relief on the beach but even there we were constantly being approached. It was not easy to enjoy the beach but we discovered that if you walk quickly for long enough they considered it not worth the effort. Once back on board we sat on the balcony with a drink, watching the coaches return. We heard later that two or three of them had been pulled over for speeding trying to catch upon the schedule. Couple of days at sea coming up as we head back towards the equator.

Wednesday 2nd April

Well here we are at sea again, the natural place for a (an ex) sailor. Weather is warming up nicely as we sail back into equatorial waters, following the coast of Vietnam on a Southerly course, once more back in the South China Sea. The coastline was visible for most of the day and through into the night with the shore then visible as a thin necklace of twinkling lights like tiny bright diamonds. By the way, the more observant amongst you will have noticed the date on yesterday’s blog entry and not taken it at face value. [Or possibly you would have had it arrived in my inbox before the 2nd April – Paul] We were delayed but it was for minor technical reasons, preventing us sailing at a speed we would have liked. Apologies to Captain Clark for maligning his navigational and chart reading skills. We were up slightly later than normal today due to the hectic nature of the last few days, but then when the sun’s as hot as it is and the beer is as cool as it is, where is the need for rushing things. Today’s talk was on Singapore given by Sir Alan Collins who was British High Commissionaire there for four years. It was a fascinating overview of the phenomenal success of the City State and how they have achieved it.

We saw a natural phenomenon today that is rarely seen, I have never seen it before. At round about midday when the sun was immediately overhead (with us being so close to the equator) we looked up into a clear blue sky and encircling the sun was a circular rainbow! Then about a half of the distance between the sun and the horizon was a second circular rainbow. No idea what the conditions were to produce this, ice crystals in the upper atmosphere perhaps? (Maybe Paul can research it for you.) I will try to send a (poor) photo. As I could not point the camera straight up at the sun, I could only get a segment of it. [He seems to be describing a 22° and 46° Halo effect. Photo tip, place your thumb over the sun to cut out the worst of the glare – Paul]

Now on a more serious point (and it’s not like me to get serious) I am beginning to worry about Carol (not a word to her mind as I am not sure yet). But I think she may be suffering from cabin fever or something similar. She was looking at me oddly the other day and last night she said “your hair is looking a little straggly, why don’t you let me just tidy it up a bit”? Now normally I would resist something like this, but I don’t know. Whether it was the heat or the relaxed atmosphere or the unexpected kindness in the tone of her voice, I merely said “if you wish my dear”. Now at this point something should have alerted me to her strange behaviour, because as soon as I assented she leapt to her feet and got the clippers. Maybe it was the whisky or the intense sun but I was a lamb to the slaughter. Totally unexpectedly she got me in a headlock and shaved a strip right up the back of my head, she said oops and then giggled and said oops again! Too late, now alerted to her true intent I leapt to my feet. There was no escape, even if I had leapt over the balcony and survived the fall to the sea, there was nowhere to swim. Only back to Vietnam where the touts on the beach would now be saying “you want nice haircut, very cheap?” To make matters worse it was a formal night! There was no way I was going near Carol again no matter how much she pleaded. The fact that she couldn’t stop laughing was evidence enough that she had some sort of Delilah’s revenge in mind and I was not about to become a Bash Street Kid for anyone. The only way out was to blag it, so I showered, put my evening suit on, combed my hair as best I could and arm in arm we went down to dinner. I had to reprimand her several times on the way down, for looking round the back of my head and giggling. I sat down with as much dignity as I could muster, but I could not help but see out of the corner of my eye Anna do a double take so severely her head nearly fell off. When she came round with the menus, I mentioned nonchalantly that I had joined a sect that required of its new members a strip of hair from the back of their head. Her head jumped back like an inquisitive chicken’s and she moved round to Carol where I just caught her asking “has Mike joined a sect?” I didn’t catch what the reply was but there was a lot of giggling going on and Anna thereafter seemed to spend a lot of time behind my chair. If for any reason I fail to return from this trip be sure to make the relevant authorities aware of this peculiar behaviour.