After changing some money (I said when it comes to that, follow the Italian: I had quickly found a complacent shopkeeper who gave us excellent rates, and the whole loose group we were herding with from the border, followed suit) and buying some biscuits (I got mine as a present from the grateful shopkeeper), we boarded a minibus on a very tentative road, a mud trail most of the time, along Halong Bay, which did not seem anything like the closing scenes of "007: Tomorrow Never Dies". Once we got there (after a 5 hours trip) it was clear that the unchecked development has spoiled it beyond possible recuperation. Of course, I did not manage to see it from the sea, as I had planned (most of the reason to go down that way, in fact): the Hydrofoil, that would take a couple of hours, wasn't working, because the New Year Celebration went on in Vietnam, for another 10 days or so, as far as the consequences on travel went. Hence the 5 hours ride from hell, with the most conniving minibus driver/cashier team I have ever encountered: they kept cramming people (I counted 45, in a vehicle with 20 seats), litterally putting them on top of each other. Finally I stood up and when the evil “man in charge” slapped my hand I slapped his back, cursing at him in Italian. Surprisingly, his demeanor changed and he stopped being high handed. And at the end of the trip, my bag was returned unscathed: for the entire trip I had no sight of the place where it was putatively stored, I feared that could be a trump card in the confrontation, but there were no consequences. Then onto a gipsy cab for another stretch, with more high jinxes, but a happy ending: after many attempts we convinced the driver to let me use his cell phone to call hotels. He did not bring us to the hotel we had called, but the Haiphong Vietnam Navy House, is clean and proper, for $ 16; it is no 3 and 4 Chinese stars hotels, the difference is noticeable, but acceptable. I also finally managed to find a battery charger and rechargeable AA batteries, that should be the end of my camera power misery. My new Chinese friends told me the $ 10 I paid is about double what it costs in China (that is indeed where the equipment is made), but I retorted that they were nowehere to be found there. It's still cold here, on to Da Nang, where warm weather is supposed to be lurking. It turns out it is much easier to travel in China than North Vietnam: people are more welcoming there, while the rate of English speakers (or other languages for that matter) is about the same. I managed a conversation in Russian, as inexistant as mine is, with a man who lived there for 8 years and kept translating to his adorable little girl and the rest of the family I was relentlessly photographing on the mini-bus to/from hell. With notable exceptions, people seem coarse and greedy, generally speaking, if compared with the meek and accomodating Chinese. And in fairness, the human landscaped improved the further South in Vietnam I went: in Nha Trang I felt I was dealing with Neapolitans.