It's incredible just how much can happen in such short time living out here.

After departing the humble hamlet of Hoa Son, it was back to Hue and on to a plane bound for the capital - Hanoi. Smaller and quieter than it's noisy sister down south, Hanoi blends the hustle & bustle of Vietnamese life with elegance ever apparent since the occupation of the French. Centred around the serene waters of Hoan Kiem Lake, the nation's capital was immediately encapsulating. Far less brash than Saigon, it was clear to see that whatever money Vietnam has, ends up here. Modern boutique shops that'd test even the loosest of wallets encompass the lake, and brand spanking new 4X4s muscle their way through the mass of motorbikes.

The lake itself is continuously awash with fitness fanatics. From elderly women working through their daily workout to young folk gathering for a game ofda cau, Vietnam's answer to hacky sack and their national sport. It is also hugely popular with young lovers and large families - and in the evening there's more chance of witnessing the sacred tortoise than grabbing a bench!

Resting on the northern fringes of the lake is the Old Quarter. Intricately entwined in one another, the narrow streets that once made up Old Hanoi are a constant hub of activity. Back in the day, the entire place was awash with traders and merchants - with each street dedicated to a certain trade or service. Although this unique approach is no longer so strictly applied, it is still very much evident to see. As we turned right out of our hotel doors, we would find ourselves on Toy Street - endless shops with classic 90s kids paraphernalia, huge cuddly bears, and quite awesome motorized cars & scooters. At the cross-roads, we could turn left for all the alcohol in the world, or right to bag us whatever herb or spice we may be looking for. Further round lay the Bamboo Street - with anything from ladders to bongs up for grabs. Another turn and you know that painting you've always wanted done? Take your pick. As the roads are so narrow and virtually 99% of all footpath is reserved for bikes, food stalls, and over-flowing stock we were forever forced to walk amongst the traffic - slightly nervy stuff at rush hour! Fortunately, the place closes down relatively early and after a few cheap ales atBia Hoi Corner, there's ample space for the inebriated traveller.

Our first taste of Hanoian life was to be spent with our good friend Ricky, who had travelled over from Melbourne to visit us for 10 days or so. After a rather sordid time in Saigon, he was ready to relax and explore and so were we. We spent our first days wandering the old paths of the city, paying visit to its many cultural attractions such as the Temple of Literature, the Museum of Ethnology, and the Ho Chi Minh Complex - including the preserved body of the country's most iconic figure. That was certainly a strange experience, as armed guards ushered us and the endless queue of visitors silently through the steps of the mausoleum and into the cooled chamber. Inside, heavily patrolled by military, lay Uncle Ho - smartly dressed and perfectly enshrined in his glass chest. There is absolutely no chance of photography, conversation, or anything bar shuffling slowly around the perimeter and out the door. As mildly disturbing as it was though, it was great to witness in person the one man that symbolises the land and its people.

Next on the list was the one highlight of our trip I was most excited for - Halong Bay. The jewel in Vietnam's UNESCO crown, anyone who has bared witness to the area knows exactly why. With thousands of limestone karsts jutting out from tropical waters, it is simply like visiting another world. The 500 million year old islets spread for as far as the eye can see, and from afar give the illusion of a towering barricade to any boat that dare seek navigation through them. However as you float closer, they part, offering you endless routes through the matrix of monolithic islands.

However,ourHalong Bay adventure was to become an experience largely different to the thousands who visit every year. It began as it meant to go on - with tropical stormHaimabattering the northern regions of Vietnam just 24 hours before we were set to depart. All boats were pulled from the water and Halong Bay locked down. We were going nowhere. AsHaimatore through the countryside, leaving behind a death toll of six, it was not until four days later that we were able to boardGlory Cruises.Although not our #1 choice, with Ricky heading to Cambodia soon, there was little option.

We headed off on the four hour bumpy bus ride and soon enough arrived in Halong City. As we had booked with one of the more premier services, we were led down to the private docking station and couriered to our awaiting junk. Swathed with a rich wooden finish, the boat sat proud as we boarded and greeted with broad smiles and a complimentary cocktail. Not a bad start at all. The whole junk oozed class, from the elegance of the dining area to the wide-open deck on top. As we were travelling as a group of three, we were even given the Family Room - with adjoining bedrooms for our child (Ricky!) and our own private balcony at the rear. The rooms were as sophisticated as the rest, with just the most gorgeous of views out in to the bay. Everything I had dreamt about was in front of my very eyes.

After a short cruise during lunch, it was off the boat and in to the kayaks for a paddle aroundCua Van fishing village, one of Halong Bay's many floating villages. Although I really shouldn't have been surprised, outside our boat I was staggered to find herds of Vietnamese women & children jostling for position - kayaks stacked full with Pringles, Red Bull and cigarettes! Even in such a remote location, whereby mainland is but a dot on the horizon, the Vietnamese find a way to sell you something - amazing!

Ignoring their desperate pleas, we began our brief insight in to the floating world of Halong Bay. All I can say is I'm glad my relationship with Chloe isn't based on our kayaking team work. Otherwise, I may be in trouble. Despite nestling in to our little plastic tubes first, we were most definitely the last to get away. Let's put it down to a Greek/English communication breakdown! Once wefinally got going we were able to cruise past the many families that call this place home. It is a truly remarkable existence, with houses, shops, schools all kept above water on rafts of wood and barrels. Tiny bamboo boats bob gently outside each door and children play with whatever they can find. After a near-fatal collision with an oncoming boat and a 96-point turn to get the kayak tied back up, we made it back and it was off to the beach for some sun, sea, and sand.

By this point, I was starting to feel a little drowsy and slight discomfort in my throat. However, it was going to take something a lot more serious than that to keep me from frolicking around with a volleyball in the beautiful water that lapped the white sands. As the sun came down and darkness began to drape its cloak over the jagged limestone karsts, it was time to head back to the boat and enjoy some downtime on the deck before dinner. I have never felt such a sense of serenity than I did cruising through the picturesque setting that evening. Islands cast in deep shade rose effortlessly from the gentle waters - millions of years in the making. Despite my throat feeling worse, nothing was going to take this away from me.

Having struggled my way through the 12 course dinner that was served up, there was just one more activity before bed - fishing. Set up at the front of the boat, a huge bright light shone deep in to the water - apparently to attract the squid we were aiming to snag. Basic rods were handed out and we all set about trying to catch tomorrow's dinner. Needless to say the thirty minutes spent trying such a practice resulted in not even a single sighting, let alone a bite. I never really liked fishing anyway.

The next morning I was in trouble. A whole world of pain had descended in to me, my throat soaking it up like a topless bather under the Spanish sun. Stockpiling up on what little painkillers we collectively had, we headed out for the day on ourLan Ha Bayexcursion. Our first port of call wasThree Peach Beach, where we could enjoy everything paradise had to offer. We began with a quick clamber up the 400+ steps to the lookout point - with spectacular, awe-inspiring panoramic views stretching for miles upon miles. From here we were able to witness the sheer scale of the area and really take in just how magically formed Halong Bay really is. Still feeling pretty sheepish, a dip in the cool water was in order and did just about enough to keep me going that little bit longer.

Following a brief visit by rowing boat to Monkey Island - a cavernous area in which we saw zero monkeys - it was on to the day boat for lunch. Unfortunately, this was the last thing on my list. Having spent the morning hours embarking on hikes, swims, and - most notably - under 35c heat, what little painkillers I had taken were done and I slumped worse than a West Indies middle order. Following a partial breakdown, I was fortuitous enough to have a nurse on board who diagnosed me with being seriously unwell, or something like that. I was taken downstairs and laid out flat on my back. Chloe was ordered to wash me down in cold water and more painkillers were shovelled down. The Vietnamese crew, startled by actually maybe having to do something about this, offered me some salt with a piece of lemon - cheers guys!

Whilst the rest of the group headed off for their afternoon kayak, I was left to doze under the watchful eye of Chloe. Upon return, plans were made for a potential return to Hanoi that evening but with the calming effect of loads of drugs and the complicated logistics of such an operation, I decided to bravely push through until the morning.

After the most loosely described night's 'sleep' in history, it was the final day and having managed to trudge aroundSung Sot Cave,one of Halong's largest and most impressive caves, it was time to head back. By now I was in a state of semi-awareness, trying desperately to block out the inevitable pain that lurched back in to my throat upon every swallow. I needed to get back and I needed to get to a doctors. The four hour return journey could not have gone any slower.

Arriving back at the hotel, it was a quick drop of bags and a fond farewell to Ricky and off to theL'Hopital de Hanoi. Praying that my insurance was to cover me, it was off for an emergency consultation with the docs - followed by blood tests, chest x-rays and a urine sample. Lying stricken on my hospital bed, drip feeding in to my arm, I was diagnosed with exudative tonsillitis, severe enough to keep me in. More tests and more drugs passed, and as I bid farewell to a deeply saddened Chloe for the night I could hardly have imagined my Halong Bay experience going any worse.

I spent the next four days hallucinating in hospital, from the sheer volume of drugs pumped in to me. I could barely walk, barely shower, and barely eat. I can honestly say I have never been so ill in my entire life. Fortunately for me, Chloe had no other real choice but to sit with me for 12 hours a day, bringing me flowers, cards, and updates from home. She was a true blessing.Even more fortunately, my insurance company paid the $2500 bill!

Finally I have recovered from my near deadly disease and we are now in the process of stabilising ourselves here in Hanoi. The hunt for teaching work has begun and an apartment is on the horizon. We have wholesomely enjoyed our time travelling through the heart of Vietnam but now it's time to see if we can settle here and sustain ourselves that little bit longer.

Plenty of fun and games ahead.