FIELD NOTEBOOK · NINH BINH · JULY 2026

I keep a little notebook for birds. Chris calls it my twitching diary, which is rich coming from a man who once drove forty minutes to look at a steam train. I am not a proper birder — I own binoculars and remember them about half the time — but the notebook comes on every holiday, and this page turned out to be the fullest one I have written in years.

We were staying in Tam Coc, and I had read that Van Long wetland holds one of the last wild populations of Delacour’s langur left anywhere — a hundred and twenty odd animals, give or take, in the whole world. That settled it. We booked the Van Long and Cuc Phuong day trip through TGROUP the evening before, and a minivan was outside the homestay at eight. What follows is the sighting log, copied out neatly. The sweat marks on the original did not scan.

The boat part lasts about two hours and it is absurdly quiet — Van Long does not get the crowds Tam Coc does, and for long stretches the only sound was the water. My glasses fogged the binoculars solid by nine, which is July’s fault, not the wetland’s, and the sun means the hat is not optional. Then back in the van, and lunch at a local place near the Cuc Phuong gate — a Vietnamese spread that kept arriving until we surrendered. Drinks are on your own tab, which seems fair.

The rescue centre is a non-profit that rehabilitates and breeds endangered primates, most of which arrived here the hard way, and the half hour went in a blink — I could have spent an hour at the gibbon enclosure alone. It is a different sort of sighting, I know that. There is a lump-in-the-throat side to reading how each of them ended up here. Worth the trip on its own, honestly not a word I use lightly in a notebook.

After the cave there is a drive, twenty-odd kilometres straight through primary forest to the park centre — Cuc Phuong is Vietnam’s oldest national park, 1962 the guide said — and then a short trek under trees that were standing before England had surnames. Butterflies everywhere, in clouds, like confetti that changed its mind. Also for the record: by three my shirt was a second skin, the one free bottle of water each was long gone (bring a spare), and Chris had left the repellent at the homestay, a decision his ankles will remember. We were a small joined group of six, all quiet types — the right crowd for a boat. Back in Tam Coc by five.

The day came to a bit over 1.6 million dong each — boat, entrance fees, lunch and an English-speaking guide all in, with VAT, drinks and tips on top. For a day that includes one of the rarest monkeys on earth, I call that cheap. We booked through TGROUP from Tam Coc the night before; if you are anywhere in Ninh Binh, ask them for the Van Long and Cuc Phuong day, and take the early boat, before the sun gets silly.

P.S. The notebook has a fresh page already titled Cat Tien, hopeful. Chris has bought his own repellent. Growth. — Annie