Floating oasis on Vietnam's magical Ha Long Bay

Even if we hadn't already spent a week in the bustle and hustle of Hanoi, the mist-shrouded limestone peaks of Ha Long Bay, the echoing birdcalls and the water lapping our ship would have been enchanting.

But by the time we arrived at this UNESCO World Heritage site in northern Vietnam's Gulf of Tonkin, we badly needed a break from the mad motor-scooter traffic of the nation's second-largest city, the swarming pineapple vendors and the ceaseless capitalist hustle.

Three days of swimming, kayaking and just chilling on the deck of the Dragon's Pearl, with drink in hand, were the ideal respite and one of the high points of our two-week trip to Vietnam in October.

You can see similar limestone towers in other parts of Vietnam; in Guilin, China; and in Thailand. But their number here — nearly 2,000 of these mini-peaks dot the bay's 621 square miles — makes this place astonishing. On the bay, the towers, which some call the eighth natural wonder of the world, are all you can see in any direction.

Legend has it that long ago a celestial dragon appeared to protect the Vietnamese from foreign invaders, spitting out great quantities of pearls to form the islands and the razor-edged mountains that stopped enemy fleets.

In reality, the islands — from mammoth Dao Hang Trai honeycombed with grottoes to islets no bigger than boulders — are the work of wind and saltwater on porous limestone.

The bay was home to some of Vietnam's earliest cultures, including Soi Nhu, Cai Beo and Ha Long peoples, and a key defense point. Several times over the centuries, Vietnamese warriors sank steel-tipped wooden stakes among the labyrinth of channels and caves, repelling would-be invaders from China and elsewhere.

Tiny isolated fishing communities still nestle against some peaks; wooden homes painted bright turquoise and orange appear to float on the water.

My husband, Dave, and I chose the cruise of Ha Long Bay because of its proximity to Hanoi and its World Heritage designation. Still, the 105-mile van trip takes almost half a day and vehicles share the road with darting motor scooters, bicycles and plodding water buffalo.

Ha Long City's harbor, a gateway shipping port supplying this fast-developing region, is on the dreary side. But once we were headed into the bay, the breeze and the view from the motorized Dragon Pearl's top deck lifted my spirits.

So did our cabin. Our room — like the 17 others on the deluxe junk — was small but had many amenities, including a king-size bed; a minute bathroom complete with terry bathrobes and rubber flip-flops; and air-conditioning, necessary to cut through the withering heat and humidity.

The first afternoon, our ship and several others dropped anchor at a deserted beach on the tiny island of Soi Sim, where we swam and lounged away the rest of the day. The water was calm and warm, but escalating tourism in the region, perhaps because of its World Heritage designation, has generated litter and pollution. So, here, miles from anywhere, plastic drink bottles and candy wrappers floated in the water and washed up on the sand.

A couple of hours later, we were back on board. With a school of silvery jumping fish as our escort, our ship headed northeast toward the Hang Luon grotto, where the Dragon Pearl dropped anchor for the night in the company of several other junks. Before dinner, we hung out on the chaise lounges arrayed on the ship's deck, watching as the peaks surrounding us turned a dusky blue and lights on the neighboring junks twinkled on. The scene reminded me of a cross between Hawaii's Na Pali Cliffs and Puget Sound.

But the highlight of the trip was a kayaking tour on the second day. A guide led us in and around cliffs and through grottoes, pointing out birds, plants and the cliffs where monkeys nest (although we didn't see any). We beached the boats at noon on an uninhabited island, to swim and eat. As for lunch, think "Fantasy Island," that kitschy late-'70s TV series. Our table already was set on the sand when we pulled up — with white tablecloths and napkins — and the ship's kitchen crew was busy barbecuing fish and peeling dragon fruit, a dramatic red cactus fruit.

The next morning, our ship steamed to Sung Sot Cave, one of the area's largest and most impressive limestone caverns, spanning 12,000 square yards inside. Climbing up steps, we entered chambers with huge stalactites and stalagmites that resembled giant sandcastles.

That afternoon, we headed to Ha Long Harbor for the return trip to Hanoi. Back in our French Quarter hotel, as the horns of 1,000 motor scooters honked outside our window, I realized the cruise had given me a different impression of Vietnam.

If Hanoi is like 4 million people on Red Bull, Ha Long Bay is where time stops, where the old ways of doing things endure and where it's quiet enough to breathe deeply and hear fish leap from the water.