Getting to the Park
The next morning we joined an organized tour to explore Cat Ba National Park, eager to hike its forested mountain trails. After our small-boat adventure on Lan Ha Bay a day earlier, exploring the forested interior was the perfect next step in experiencing Cat Ba on our own terms. I had been particularly interested in visiting Việt Hải Village, a traditional settlement deep in the park. Visiting the village independently is possible, but the logistics are complicated, so a guided tour seemed the easiest way.
Our tour started as a small semi-private group with just another couple joining us. After a short drive from Cái Bèo, the road climbed into the mountains until we reached the entrance to the national park.
Our first stop was a small museum dedicated to the park’s flora and fauna. As it turned out, this was our best chance to see any wildlife. Despite walking through the forest for hours later that day, we encountered very few animals — only spiders, butterflies, and the occasional lizard. At one point we heard monkeys fighting somewhere high in the canopy, their calls echoing through the treetops, and saw branches shaking above us — but sadly none of them decided to make an appearance.
Hiking Through the Rainforest
After visiting the museum we started the hike. At first the route followed a paved road, but after a few kilometers it turned into a proper forest trail.
We crossed paths with a few other hikers along the way, but for long stretches it felt as if we had the forest to ourselves.
Partway through the hike we came across a wooden house built on stilts. According to our guide, it had once been used for overnight expeditions into the forest but was now abandoned.
We climbed the stairs and explored it briefly and were about to continue when our guide pointed out something unexpected nearby — a large star fruit tree heavy with fruit.
Of course, we couldn’t pass up the chance to try some. The house’s height on stilts actually made it easier to reach some of the lower-hanging fruit. The fruit turned out to be incredibly sour, but also refreshing after the climb.
Toward Frog Pond
From there the trail continued toward Frog Pond, one of the most remote areas of the park.
It was an eerie place, with trees growing in shallow murky water that carried a strong muddy smell.
This place looked like heaven for mosquitoes — thankfully it was winter and we were spared.
Despite its name, we didn’t see or hear any frogs — perhaps they were hiding somewhere in the murky water for the winter.
The first part of the hike to the pond was relatively easy, climbing steadily through towering rainforest trees. After the pond, the terrain became more challenging but also more interesting. The trail grew steeper and rockier, requiring some scrambling as we climbed up, down, and up again through the limestone hills.
Along the way the forest occasionally opened up to reveal beautiful views of the surrounding mountains rising from the jungle canopy.
It was strangely devoid of bird sounds, the silence only broken by the rustle of leaves in the canopy and our muffled footsteps.
Eventually the trail started to descend and suddenly we found ourselves in a flowering meadow. Hundreds of butterflies of all sizes and colors fluttered among the flowers, their wings glittering in the sunlight and filling the meadow with movement.
Finally we reached our destination: Viet Hai Village.
Việt Hải Village
While the hike itself was rewarding, the village was a bit of a disappointment. It felt somewhat staged, with endless souvenir shops and restaurants lining the main street.
We could see glimpses of the quieter countryside beyond the main street: water buffalo grazing in the fields and farmers in conical hats tending their crops. Yet from the tour route it all felt strangely distant, as if the everyday life of the village existed just beyond the edges of the tourist path.
Perhaps it would have felt different if we had arrived independently and had more time to wander. Instead, the tour followed a tightly organized routine that felt rushed — a sharp contrast to our peaceful trek through the park.
As soon as we entered the village we were placed on bicycles and guided straight to a restaurant for lunch.
After eating we were back on the bikes again, this time heading to a nearby fish spa.
This part was undeniably touristy — but also surprisingly fun. Sitting with our feet in the warm water while dozens of tiny fish nibbled at them was both ticklish and oddly relaxing.
The Bike Ride
After ten minutes in the fish spa we were back on the bikes once more. By then our group had grown — fourteen more people joined us for the final stage of the tour.
The plan was simple: cycle about five kilometers to the harbor where a boat was waiting to take us back.
Since I’m not the most confident cyclist, I stayed toward the back of the group. Valery rode behind me, occasionally stopping to take photos along the way.
For the first part the ride was easy, following a quiet road through the countryside. Then the road entered a short tunnel cut through the rock.
Inside it was completely dark. I couldn’t see the sides of the tunnel — only hear water gurgling against the rocks and echoing around me.
As I rode in, I quickly lost my sense of direction and stopped when my bike veered toward the rocks lining the side. Valery tried to ride around me — and fell straight into the rocks where shallow water was running along the edge of the tunnel.
The next half hour was stressful. At first, adrenaline still coursing, he was mainly concerned about his phone, which had fallen into the water. We eventually managed to retrieve it, but it was already dead — and along with it, most of the photos from this trip were lost, as Valery had been our main photographer.
Only then did the impact of the fall start to sink in. Valery had hit his head and shoulder on the rocks and was too shaken to continue riding.
Fortunately, one of the guides who had been following the group stayed with us while another went to arrange transport. Soon an electric cart arrived and took us the rest of the way to the harbor.
Back Across Lan Ha Bay
Thankfully, Valery’s injuries were not serious and did not require a hospital visit. Still, he was bruised and shaken and spent most of the boat ride resting.
The return trip took place on a much larger tour boat than the small fisherman’s boat we had used the previous day.
There was even a stop for kayaking — in exactly the same spot where we had paddled the day before. We skipped it this time, and didn’t feel we were missing anything.
Seeing Lan Ha Bay from the upper deck of the large boat gave us a very different perspective. From this height the karst islands seemed less dramatic, almost level with the boat, while from the small fisherman’s boat they had felt towering and dominant in the landscape.
It reinforced our impression from the day before: exploring the bay on a small private boat had felt far more intimate and authentic.
Leaving Cat Ba Island
We had originally planned to spend the next morning exploring more of Cat Ba Island, but the weather had other ideas.
We woke up to rain pounding on our windows, forcing us into a leisurely morning, with only a short foray out for breakfast before boarding the bus back to Hanoi.
As our bus drove through the downpour, streams of water streaking the windows, we realized how lucky our timing had been. During our stay the weather had cooperated almost perfectly. The skies had been grey, but at least the rain had held off.
And our luck continued in another unexpected way. The Wednesday morning we left Hanoi had marked the start of a record stretch of heavy air pollution in the city — one that lasted until the Saturday afternoon when we returned.
For a few days at least, we had traded Hanoi’s grey skies for the green mountains and emerald waters of Cat Ba — a refreshing escape before returning to Hanoi. But we didn’t linger in the city. Our next adventure awaited, and it’s a story for another post.
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