In hot water at Cat Ba

On the paradise island of Cat Ba, I look like a tourist. But not really for the right reasons!

Our first stop after Hanoi is the island of Cat Ba, just south of the Ha Long Bay, one of the most touristic sites in Vietnam. My dad and I sign up for a boat tour for the next day. Our first stop is at Monkey Island, where I'm so engrossed in taking photos that the boat ends up leaving without me. Pops takes matters into his own hands and tells them I haven't come back. It doesn't seem to bother them too much.

Seeing the boat leaving without me, I come to the race, and from the rock jetty, I jump on another boat, cross it and jump on the correct boat again. An hour after the start of the day, I am already considered "the problem on board"!

View from the rock of the island of the monkeys. The photo that made me late for the departure of the boat!

In a few places in the bay, you can see floating villages. Locals get supplies on the main island, where the children also go to school. The majority of them make a living from fishing.

Village on the water in Cat Ba Bay.

We stop to do a little diving, where I cut both feet at the same time on some coral. The problem case of the boat that I am must now beg for big bandages from its new friends. Maybe it's because I've been traveling for almost a year that I seem so touristy ...!

I also feel more on vacation on this island where we spend a few days. It feels good to sleep more than one night in the same place!

Walk on the police

Quality photo taken by my father from our hotel room.

The day before to hit the road, I washed my bike sweater and hung it out to dry by the window in our room on the 8th floor.

The wind picked up during the night, and when I open my eyes at 6 a.m., I can't see my sweater anymore. Head out the window, I finally saw him on the roof of the neighboring building. With the official flags and the type of construction including an interior courtyard, I conclude that it must be a school. I analyze from above the possible route, then I leave with my headlamp to recover my loss.

I pass a fence, cross the building in the dark, walk around the inner courtyard, find a ladder, then a television antenna which I climb. My legs trembling - I hate heights - I climb the three floors successively through the electric wires and reach the tiled roof. From there I crawl to the runaway sweater.

It is then that I realize the few men who are looking at me from the floor of the cows, no doubt attracted by the sound of my footsteps on the roof. On the way down, I explain to them that my sweater blew up and that I came to get it quickly.

But it is not a school. It is a border police station. In Communist Vietnam.

They take me to the chief. Small in stature like most Vietnamese, in his early forties, black hair combed to the side and stern eyes, he traces his name to me in the dust of the table between us: Ngoc Nguyen.

- You know it's a police station here?
- Uh, yes, that's pretty clear!
- It's forbidden to be here.
- I had started to understand that too ...

I will then spend more than an hour explaining myself with Chef Nguyen. I am left alone a few times, leaving a guard at my door and another in the same room as me, impassive and sitting on a cot, so that I do not run away.

Then, the police will wake up the manager of my hotel, who finds that I am quite the problem with his hotel.

- Why didn't you ask us to go get your sweater?
- I didn't mean to bother you for my mistake.
- It's more or less successful ...

Finally, the manager writes and signs a paper indicating that he is responsible for my future conduct.

Nice to meet you, the chief of police tells me when I leave.

I come back to the room over an hour after leaving for five minutes. Knowing me, my father didn't worry too much.

- Where were you ? Did you make other friends along the way?
- Yeah, we can say that ...!