The description of the cruise had said something about travelling in an old junk or, if not in an old junk, definitely a converted junk; certainly the word ‘junk’ was in there somewhere.  Whatever, in my mind, I had imagined a fairly small vessel; perhaps space for 20 people at most; a wooden craft; one big, traditional mainsail; fairly spartan accommodation; perhaps sleeping on deck; a gently rocking hammock, the stars twinkling alive above me.

I could not have been more wrong.

I was on Halong (Hạ Long) Bay, close to the Chinese border with Vietnam, and a launch from Halong City was taking me out to the ‘junk’, which was moored offshore.  I knew that Halong Bay was famous for its beautiful landscape of towering limestone karst islands rising from the calm waters of the South China Sea.  I knew, too, that it was a popular tourist destination.  However, I had not realised just how popular.  The place was rammed with ships.  Now, don’t get me wrong, it was still very beautiful, but it was rammed.

Amidst all the maritime traffic, I tried to spot the traditional junk that I pictured would be my own floating home for the next couple of days; was ultimately surprised by the size of the ‘liner’ we eventually pulled up alongside.

It turned out that Ambassador Cruises idea of a ‘junk’ was my idea of a luxury cruise ship.  The romantic side of me was a little disappointed; the hedonistic side of me was privately delighted.

There was no distinctive lugsail – no sail at all, in fact – no wooden deck; no point of connection between the vessel of my imagination and the actual reality.

But, having said that, it was very nice.  Once I had revised my expectations, I decided that it was actually very, very nice.

There was a welcome drink.  My cabin was luxurious – a comfy double bed rather than a hammock.  There were en-suite facilities.  Embossed towels.  A private balcony.  It did not take me long to ditch my romantic preconceptions and embrace the comfort.

Dining was ‘Michelin-style’ and rated on my own personal culinary award system as ‘bloody good’.

In fact, it was all so exquisite that I found myself slightly rebelling against all the luxury by getting mildly pissed and dancing slightly inappropriately by myself in the Piano Bar.

© E. C. Glendenny

E. C. Glendenny: can’t take her anywhere.

E. C. Glendenny is the author of several volumes of travel writing, which include Easy on the Eyes and Easy Come, Easy Go.