My desire to visit Hạ Long Bay was ignited on a rainy Sunday night in 1992. I was sitting in my apartment on the Rue Monsieur, in Paris, when some carefully tossed peanuts tapped against the window.
I pulled back the curtain and there was Guillaume, the projectionist of Le Pagode, the cinema that occupied a Japanese pagoda across the street. He was waving to signal it was safe to sneak in the side door and watch a free movie.
