26. the bicycle ride

Blog entries

the Long Bien bridge, for trains, motorbikes and bicycles, across the Red Rivver

The tourist industry has developed many tour opportunities in Hanoi; not all of them are equally attractive, as far as I am concerned.

We have been a few days in Hanoi now, and I got the know the city reasonably well. Including the mad traffic – not as bad, perhaps, as Bangkok, or Saigon, but pretty chaotic nevertheless. The good thing is that trucks don’t seem to be allowed during daytime, so the streets are entirely the domain of busses, cars, motorbikes, and the occasional lunatic on a bicycle. And the pedestrians who have been forced off the pavement, either because there is no pavement, or because the pavement is occupied by motorbikes parked, or a noodle restaurant, or anything else that prevents the pedestrian from passing normally.

the traffic at a random Hanoi junction

The rules are fairly clear, the one who occupies that piece of road first, has right of way. Not necessarily the biggest, but certainly the most agile – motorbikes cut corners, and go against the traffic if opportune. Especially when traffic lights change colour, everything mingles together without any form of order, the ones who depart from the traffic light early anticipating green and the ones just too late to avoid red, but getting through anyhow. Needless to say that all of this goes accompanied by the liberal use of the horn, from cars, and even more so form motorbikes.

The safest solution for the accidental tourist? Stay inside, in your hotel. Ok, get out very carefully, and walk the pavements of the main avenues, which are mostly OK. If you have to, walk the smaller roads, but as little as possible. And whatever you do, do not get onto a bicycle, these are only for lunatics.

Which was exactly what my travel companions – there are temporarily two of them – suggested. Our hotel offered a half-day tour, cycling in and around Hanoi, see the rice paddies in the Red River Delta, a temple or two, a fruit farm, nothing really strikingly out of the ordinary, really. And anyhow, I don’t like cycling to start with. So why on earth would we risk our lives? “Because it was something else to do; we would get a bit of exercise, we would get to places where we otherwise would never get to…”

the Long Bien bridge, oldest bridge across the Red River

To cut a long story short, we booked the tour, which started with lunch in the old town. So far, so good. But then we were given a mountain bike each, a flimsy helmet, and the instruction to follow our guide, who was also on a bike. And then we dived into the Hanoi traffic. As lunatics.

Miraculously, we made it to the Long Bien bridge, a rusty metal construction and the oldest bridge to cross the Red River – for a long time even the only bridge across the river, which is why it was such a tempting object to bomb during the Vietnam War, yet unsuccessfully. In fact, the traffic from the saddle wasn’t as bad as it looked from the pavement, and with everybody else experienced in avoiding collision, we were all still alive.

On the other side of the river traffic was slightly less, and less chaotic. But by now I was preoccupied with something entirely different: I started to feel my buttocks, thanks to the uncomfortable bike saddle. Did I say earlier that I didn’t like cycling? It is just not very comfortable, that’s why.

another brranch, another bridge to climb

and another view of the bridge, looking back to Hanoi

Red River, vast expanse of water, and this is just one branch

Yet the next challenge was presenting itself already, the Vietnam-version of the Brienenoordbrug (my Dutch readers will know what I mean). Luckily, the bike had just enough gears to get me to the top. On the other side, we finally moved to the smaller roads, thankfully with much less traffic. But also with many more potholes. And the Vietnamese version of the cobble stones. Thing is to get out of the saddle, if you see some unequal surface coming. If you don’t – see it coming, or get out of the saddle, either way -: a further attack on the buttocks. Which were already suffering pretty badly. Things get worse. Our guide steers towards the rice paddies, and especially, to the ridges between the rice paddies. Which have been muddy, some time ago. And which are rather uneven, to say the least. Buttocks! Oh, and which have low hanging branches from trees, too.

significantly smaller channel, smaller boat, rural area outside Hanoi

the Co Loa location, whee Vietnam’s history begins

temple decoration

which much better forms of transport than a bicycle

colourful baskets ready for a temple festival

rice paddies under water

and paddie worker

chicken blocking our rural road

bananas in the afternoon light

In between, we visit a few temples, amongst them those at the locality of Co Loa, allegedly the founding place of Vietnam. Which was nice enough. And an opportunity to get out of the saddle, and some relief. Dreading the moment we would continue again. To the fruitfarm with a stable full of white rabbits. Past the rice paddies, with people working up to their knees in the water. And past all these Vietnamese who you can almost hear thinking: “lunatics!”. The only consolation was that there are a few other cyclists, too: giggling and “hello”-shouting children going home from school. What didn’t help was that my travel companions kept on saying how nice all of this was; that we would otherwise never had gotten here; that it was so good to see Vietnam from a different angle. They like cycling. They have done it before.

Hanoi by night, from the bridge

Anyhow, we got back some five hours later. Our guide knew a short cut. Which involved crossing an eight-lane motorway. It got dark. The roads are fairly well lit. But many traffic participants don’t have light. Neither did we, except for a reflector. It was rush hour, crossing that bridge was suddenly challenging for different reasons, thanks to the hundreds of motorbikes sweeping past. Surrounding four cyclists. Lunatics!

My travel companions loved every moment of it. I didn’t. Self-inflicted suffering, I know. And I even paid for this!

next: finally, Halong Bay

something growing in the water

lunatics at work

there was at least one other lunatic on a bicycle

survivors

25. the pagoda trail

Blog entries

incense burning in one of the pagodas outside Hanoi

Outside Hanoi are many evocative pagodas, three of which we visited, each with their own style, all with a serene peaceful atmosphere.

There are several tourist itineraries outside Hanoi, the most popular being visiting craft villages and visiting the Perfume Pagoda. The villages are no doubt interesting, but there is often a fine balance between that interest and the inevitable annoyance from having to beat back the sellers of those crafts. As for the Perfume Pagoda, being the prime tourist attraction outside Hanoi, this is likely equally infested with people who insistently try to sell me something I don’t want.

So we settled for a trip along a number of ancient pagodas in traditional Vietnamese architecture, possibly less touristic than the other options.

Chua Thay, the Thay Pagoda, across a small lake

one of two bridges from 1602, dedicated to sun and moon

and the other small bridge, leading to a smal islet

temple front decoration

the temple inside, thick wooden pillars

a wooden horse, ready to march

offerings under a parasol

another red parasol against the ceiling

colourful Buddhist cloth

a mythical princess, headless, object of the Thay Pagoda

First on our itinerary was the Thay Pagoda, the Chua Thay, some 30 km from Hanoi in the village of Sai Son. We were dropped in front of an ugly new construction, corrugated iron roof, obligatory carper pond. Traditional?  Until we realised that our driver had brought us to the wrong temple, and that the real thing was 300 m further, opposite a small lake. The pagoda was founded in the 11th Century by the monk Tu Dao Hanh, also called the Master – hence its other name, the Master’s Pagoda (as well as yet another name, Pagoda of the Heavenly Blessing). Story has it that the Master reincarnated as Buddha, and then also as the future king Ly Than Thong, who subsequenly – complicated, complicated – was in his turn saved again by the monk Tu Dao Hanh. Which has all contributed to the somewhat cult-status of this pagoda.

arched entrance to the karst hill behind the temple

Obviously, the pagoda has undergone many restorations over time, but it maintains an old, very tranquil atmosphere, with three wooden halls one after the other, filled with old statues, some of them apparently as old as the pagoda. The lake outside, and the two small covered bridges, add to the experience, as does the steep karst hill immediately behind the buildings, which can be climbed to several small temples and a cave or two, filled with further statues. And almost no other tourists – although there is obviously potential, for busier days, as the many unused stalls suggest.

tree roots protecting the entrance of a small cave

whicch is filled with several Buddha statues

prayer stone outside the cave

the stairs up to the Tay Phuong Pagoda

Buddha sculptures inside the pagoda

and more sculptures, very evocative

individual sculpture

and one of a soldier, or guard

part of a group of sculptures

tree in the temple courtyard

Nearby is the Tay Phuong Pagoda – the Pagoda of the West. This one is situated not at the foot, but on top of a hill, to which leads a long flight of steps. Again, no tourists to speak off, and yet, this is perhaps one of the most impressive pagodas I have been to during this entire trip. Once more a series of wooden halls, the roofs beautifully decorated with dragons and phoenixes. Inside is the most venerated collection of wooden sculptures, some of which are apparently on display in Hanoi’s Fine Arts Museum. Inside the central hall, they create a very peaceful atmosphere, notwithstanding the sometimes violent activities the sculptures seem to be involved in.

decorative lamps – I think

corridor inside the pagoda

temple building outside the main Tram Gian pagoda

a bit of a pagoda has a drum, of course

another panel, in more detail

one of the wooden panels inside

The third pagoda on the trail is the Tram Gian Pagoda, founded as a Buddhist cloister in 1185 on a low hill. Here, too, many wooden sculptures, as well as carved wood panels, in at least part-old temple buildings, and a calm and tranquil atmosphere.

All of these pagodas are obviously still being used for worshipping, with the smell of incense everywhere and rich offerings of fresh fruit, like pomelo, and huge boxes of biscuits, mostly of the cheese and chocolate varieties, in front of each shrine. Which adds further to the serene air that each of the pagodas exhales.

next: more activity outside Hanoi (lunatics!)

and a guard panel, carved on the outside corridor

decorations on one of the buildings

the one-toothed lady outside the temple

and, presumably, her husband

24. Hanoi

Blog entries

Tortoise Tower in the middle of Hanoi’s Hoan Kiem Lake

Vietnam’s capital Hanoi is a lively city, with a mix of old and new tourist attractions, and lots of tourists.

We take the bus to Hanoi, from Bac Ha. The only bus available is the one to Haiphong, but according to the driver that’s no problem, he will stop in Hanoi. Well, not exactly, he stopped at one of the motorways outside Hanoi, but close enough to a junction from where we could pick up a taxi. But in any case, we were happy enough to get off: Vietnamese long distance buses are all of the sleeper-type, which means three rows of fully reclining seats, two of those above each other, and with isles in between so narrow that one can hardly turn. It is only that the seats have been designed for Vietnamese, which are in general rather less tall than I am. And less wide, too. Let me say this: especially with a seat more upright, the way I prefer, it was not very comfortable.

colonial architecture

and a window, just a window

blue shutters, could be colonial, too

But Hanoi makes up for the journey. Vietnam’s capital, and second largest city after Saigon (or Ho Chi Min City, as it is officially called these days), is a pleasant enough place to spend a few days. Traffic is chaotic, but not as bad as Saigon, or Bangkok; it all still moves, albeit not that fast. Along the old boulevards of the French Quarter, where our delightful hotel is, new modern office buildings rub shoulders with elegant colonial villas, some of them well maintained, and in use as embassies, others in various stages of decline. And not only the villas, also many smaller houses, with once attractive balconies and gables, are remnants of a more glorious past – as opposed to several Karaoke Bars, representing the somewhat less glorious part of the present.

modern office building rubbing shoulders with old houses near the railway station

The closer we get to the heart of Hanoi, the Hoan Kiem Lake, the more expensive the neighbourhood, the flashier the boutiques. This is where the Opera House is, and Trang Tien, the Champs Elyse of Hanoi, lined with galleries and coffee bars. The Lake itself is nothing special, in fact, but it has a mythical meaning for the Vietnamese, as the source from which Le Loi, the national hero who defied the Chinese in 1428 and retook Hanoi, obtained his miracle sword – which, 10 years later, he dropped back in the lake again, where it was swallowed by a giant tortoise. Which is now honoured by the Tortoise Tower, on a small island in the centre of the lake.

the opera building, definitely colonial

Notre Dame-like church in central Hanoi

lamp inside the Metropole Hotel

typical Old Town houses

tourist stuff packed on a bicycle

or displayed against the wall

tricycle, for tourist transport only

 

The areas around the lake contain lots of interesting monuments, too, like a church which resembles the Notre Dame, several small and very active Buddhist pagodas, the old Governor’s Residence and the Metropole Hotel – where according to one French journalist of the last century the barman “could produce a reasonable facsimile of almost any civilized drink except water”. We just had a coffee.

The most touristy section is the Old Town, north of the lake. A tangle of narrow alleys, with restaurants and bars, and every kind of shop imaginable – with a clear focus on what the tourist wants. The streets are clogged with motorbikes, bicycle taxis and pedestrians – most cars know better than to come down here, but some still try. And clogged with tourists, who are the only customers for the bicycle taxis, of course, and likely for the shops and restaurants, too. A fun area to wander around for an hour, or so, and admire the architecture, the small narrow high rises Hanoi-style, the balconies and roofs of old colonial houses. And then leave again, and don’t come back.

and this is the curious form of Hanoi highrise

very narrow, tall buildings surrounded by much lower ones

and packed with apartments, it seems, in this case in a strange shape

cables feeding the government announcement system

at the other side of the Old Town, the covered market building, almost exclusively for locals, again

lantern shop, Old Town

and coffee, Vietnam being a major producer

cloths for sale in the locals only covered market

part of the Temple of Literature

and grills in front of one of the temple windows

wooden puppets, also in the temple (but they may be for sale)

Hanoi’s most important sights are a little further away – all still perfectly walkable, though. The Temple of Literature is Vietnam’s most important temple complex, and its oldest university, dating back to the 1070s. Five walled courtyards, adorned with ponds and lawns, ultimately end up in the ceremonial hall and the Confucian academy, a tastefully restored two-floor wooden building. Halfway the complex, a total of 82 original stelae record the names of all successful graduates between 1442 and 1779 (except those on the approximately 30 stelae that got lost over time), an impressive list, but mostly because it shows how difficult the study program was – sometimes, there are only a few names recorded!

Nearby is Hanoi’s Fine Art Museum, for which a separate entry.

this is the main rail track to Saigon – really! (we did part of the trip, back into town)

Another important pagoda for the Vietnamese, the One-Legged Pagoda, is actually a rather underwhelming, often reconstructed, small affair, a wooden platform on a concrete pillar in a miniature artificial lake. Part of being underwhelming is that it almost entirely disappears in between the Ho Chi Min Museum and the old man’s Mausoleum, both your typical, ugly, communist era constructions. Totally fitting in this entourage is the huge parade ground, Ba Dinh Square – you can just imagine the military vehicles, the tanks, and the troops marching down here -, and the equally unattractive National Assembly Hall, used for Party congresses.

and the National Assembly building, modern, functional, and not that ugly

although the guarding of the Assembly may need some strengthening

the massive Ba Dhin Square

Ho Chi Min’s mausoleum – against the express wishes of the man himself

and Uncle Ho’s museum, appropriately communistic in style

the pride of Hanoi, a shot-down American B52 bomber

and for good measure, there is also a MIG-22 in town

the Tran Quac Pagoda, Hanoi’s oldest

and several old tombs on the premises

From here it is a short walk to the B-52 bomber, one of 23 that were shot down in December 1972, and which is now proudly presented to the public outside a Military Museum also showing a range of antique anti-aircraft artillery, not to be confused with the Military History Museum, where a MIG-22, in much better state, is displayed outside. What is it, with all those plane wrecks?

We ended up at the West Lake, taking a short cut through some of Hanoi’s typical residential quarters, with narrow lanes and small ponds, and active temples, as everywhere in town. At the lake itself is the oldest of Hanoi’s pagodas, the Tran Quac Pagoda, on a small peninsula. Probably dating back to the 6th Century AD, the temple was originally located near the Red River, which flows through Hanoi, but this was considered too vulnerable a place, upon which it was decided to move it to its current location. Most interesting, perhaps, are the burial stupas, some of which are pretty old, other rather new, honouring the past masters of the pagoda.

Oh, and the other thing about Hanoi: you can eat here really well, whether from the Eclairs served in the trendy coffee bars, or from the French restaurant’s foie gras de canard, of which rather a lot is represented on the menu – even a pho, the traditional noodle soup, made with foie gras! And don’t miss Duong’s Restaurant!

next: we look at some of the pagodas outside Hanoi.

no need to further explain this one…

23-1. more Bac Ha

Blog entries

a minority woman in the Bac Ha market

From the large Sunday in Bac Ha there are also more photographs of ethnic minority dress, many of which are, at least in this area, rare – but not less colourful.

colourful women and colourful greens in the Bac Ha market

another market woman, but with the national symbol rather than minority headdress

baby carrier, equally in style

one of her kind, in the market

and also unusual

like this lady, although familiar colours

children are taught at an early age

richly decorated, to say the least

another unusual outfit

or this blue jacket

this type we have seen before

with similar yellow star

pensive blue

pensive orange

a more familiar dress, by now

group from the same village

22-1. more Can Cau

Blog entries

ethnic minority lady in Can Cau

And a few more pictures from the Saturday market in Can Cau, pretty wet when we were there, but still a colourful affair.

even in miserable weather

not happy, umbrella up

happier, also with umbrella

one of the ladies

another of the ladies

and a third, with rain poncho

equally nice from the back

this one, too

Flower Hmong, perhaps

dreid red chillies getting wet

the motor cycle parking lot of the market

21-1. more Muong Hum

Blog entries

ethnic minority at the Muong Hum market

A few more pictures of the women of the Muong Hum Sunday market, a really nice and authentic market in Northern Vietnam; although I wouldn’t be able to name the different ethnic minorities.

two ladies of the same tribe, obviously

and this is another one

market lady in blue

in blue-green

and in green

and don’t forget the lower legs, also often beautifully covered

these are Red Dao, or Red Hmong, not sure

these, too

another elaborate headdress

keeping an eye on things

23. Bac Ha

Blog entries

ethnic minority lady in the Bac Ha market

Bac Ha is the third, and largest, of the North Vietnamese ethnic minority markets we went to, an explosion of colour.

Bac Ha market early morning, not yet so busy

colourful ladies

lacquer ware, for the tourists

Because we slept in Bac Ha, we managed to be at the market at 7:30 am, at a time the businesses were still starting up. Big advantage then is that it is not yet so busy, which proves great for taking photos, quietly. The front of the market is the area where the fresh vegetables are being sold, several rows of colourful women sitting next to or behind several stacks of colourful greens and reds and browns and oranges. Further sections sell cloths, lacquer ware and tourist stuff, and at the back of the market is the live animal section. Not just cows and water buffalo, this time, also pigs, pre-packed in bags for easy home taking, chickens and ducks, and a dog section: mostly puppies, and not for eating, I think, but for fun (although they eat dog, in Vietnam, but more as an after-thought, once the dog has died a naturel death). Needless to say, my travel companion was already devising schemes to bring all the puppies home.

puppies for sale

and pigs, for home-taking

cattle market in Bac Ha

with young buffalo

even the cattle market is colourful

After breakfast we returned to the market at around ten, now much busier with buyers and sellers, as well as with tourists. Sections outside had been cordoned off for the minivans and the busses, others for the sedans and four-wheel drives, and they were pretty full. But despite the influx of foreigners, the essence of the market didn’t change, this remains a genuine exchange of goods between local people – seemingly from more different minorities than we have seen before (more photos here). Many of whom are dressed for the occasion, or perhaps dressed as they always do, with their fabulously beautiful traditional cloths. For however long it lasts.

children, too, are wearing traditional dress

another of the ladies

well, and a second one, then

the occasional man worthwhile photographing

hair dresser in the open

market day is good fun

Bac Ha is a real weekend town. On Saturday the town comes to life, the hotels and restaurants open – there is even a hotel called the Saturday Hotel – to cater for those arriving ‘the day before’. Sunday the town floods with market people and with tourists, but by Sunday 3 pm all is over again, the vendors have gone home, the tourists back to Sapa or Hanoi, and the town gets back to sleep, for another week. On Sunday night we barely found a restaurant open. On Monday morning we were the only ones at breakfast in our hotel. So we took the bus, too, and left. For Hanoi.

(see also Muong Hum and Can Cau, the other markets)

elegant long skirts, elegant motor helmet

22. Can Cau

Blog entries

an unusual minority, unsure which one, in the Can Cau market

The second of North Vietnam’s ethnic minority markets we visited was Can Cau, which, despite the bad weather, was a great experience.

A week earlier, upon crossing from China, we had also stopped off in the north, to visit the Saturday market of Can Cau, and the Sunday market of Bac Ha, probably the biggest of the markets.

the market in Can Cau

with some fresh produce, in the mud

rubber boots, small sizes only

The Can Cau market was a different affair. We arrived round 10:30 am, when the first mini-busses and four-wheel drives with tourist were already leaving again. The road outside the village was blocked with vehicles, some to park, other intended on crossing. In between those, the proud new owners of water buffalos, no doubt just bought in the market, tried to shepherd their acquisitions through the mayhem. It was raining, and it had been raining for a while. The road was a mud pit, the market, too. Some vendors had put wooden planks in between the stands, but they were just sinking further and further in the mud. Some parts were simply no-go area without rubber boots. We didn’t have rubber boots, and although they sold almost everything imaginable in the market, they did not sell rubber boots in our size.

Despite the chaos, and the miserable weather, the market was a delight. On offer was a mixture of fresh produce and cloths, and a bit of tourist stuff. Several guys had parked their extended motorbikes in the mud, one was selling knives, another specialised in slippers, and a third was cutting keys – these obviously rotate between the week markets (we would see all three of them the next day in Bac Ha, again). At the back of the market was the cattle section, where the water buffalo and cows changed hands. But the real attraction where the people, of course, well, mostly the women, dressed in carefully embroidered shirts, and colourful skirts and head scarves. Mostly Flower Hmong (on account of their colourful cloths, as opposed to the Black Hmong of Sapa and environs who have their cloths dyed dark), and some other minorities, too (more photos here).

and the cattle section, more mud

for which high heels come in handy

market woman

Flower Hmong, I think

aanother lady, blue with greens

same group, having fun

stern-looking lady in full outfit

dress protected from the rain by a big umbrella

the market is winding down

By about noon, the market was winding down, many people went home. We left, too, and drove the 30 minutes to Bac Ha, where we found a hotel. The area around Can Cau and Bac Ha is as mountainous as Sapa, and is also covered by rice terraces, which, like in Sapa, just occasionally showed themselves through the low-hanging clouds. When they did, they proved to be fabulous.

( the other markets we visited were those of Muong Hum and Bac Ha)

rice paddies between Cat Cau and Bac Ha

21. Muong Hum

Blog entries

Ethnic minority woman in Muong Hum market

North Vietnam’s ethnic minority markets are a spectacular display of colour. We visited three of them, Muong Hum being the first, and perhaps most remote, one.

One of the most attractive things of Northern Vietnam are the many different ethnic minorities that populate the mountains here. Minorities that still proudly wear the full complement of their traditional dress – nothing like Xishuangbanna earlier, where we already got excited from seeing two or three women with a colourful headscarf. And there is no better way to observe this, no, to admire this, then visiting the local markets, of which there are many, on specific days, in the area around Sapa.

greens sellers in Muong Hum market

Many of the markets have, to a more or a lesser extent, been discovered by the tourists, but this has not compromised the authenticity of the markets. The people dress up in their Sunday best to go to the market, not to please the tourist, so much is clear. What it has done, is to add another business to the market, that of selling tourist trinkets. From big tables in proper stalls, this time, not out of a basket.

 

 

and the catering for the market

bucher material, the front and the back

We had the opportunity to visit three markets, but I could have spent an extra week here, I love those. And I could have spent hours more on each of them. I took hundreds of photos, of which I will only be able to show a few here – still too many, but alas.

Red Dao woman in Muong Hum

Black Hmong, perhaps, on account of black-dyed cloths

intricate embroidery

and peculiar hat

The smallest, least-discovered market we visited was the Sunday market of Muong Hum, some 40 km north of Sapa, where we and an American couple were the only foreigners amongst an incredibly colourful spectacle of Black Hmong and Red Dao, and no doubt some other minorities, who shopped around mostly for cloth and hardware items, not so much fresh produce – although the butchers did good business. And so did the local catering, with many of the simple restaurants in the back selling bowls of noodles additionally filled with lots of things I didn’t recognise (more photos here).

(the other markets we went to were Can Cau and Bac Ha)

Red Dao women at and early lunch

20. around Sapa

Blog entries

rice terraces outside Sapa, during a rare spell without fog

The workings of the tourist trail around Sapa.

The thing about Sapa is its scenery outside town, something we hadn’t really appreciated yet because of the low clouds. But one day, driving in the direction of Lao Cai, we have more luck. Much of the fog has disappeared, and the rice paddy landscape unfolds after every bend in the road, steep terraces filled with water. With a bit of imagination we can even project some sunlight into the picture, and then you realise why all these tourists come to Sapa!

more terraces, with even a hint of sunshine

perfectly cut profile

perfectly horizontal layout

some of the terraces are already water-filled

and with the view relatively unobscured, they are indeed beautiful

Filled with enthusiasm, we also book a walking tour, a sort of a one-day mini-track, past some of the ethnic minority villages and through the rice paddies. Our guide, an enterprising young lady, herself from the Hmong minority, picks us up from our hotel early one morning. In the mist – there is mist every morning, but the weather forecast for Sapa is sunny and dry, even relatively warm. My suggestion to wait for a while, see if the mist clears, she waves away: “if you wait for the sun to leave Sapa, you’ll never leave”. Right! It would have been nice if our guidebook had contained some text to that extent, then we might have reconsidered our travel itinerary – we do get a little fed up with the weather, to be honest.

some terraces barely visible in the mist

We walk down from our hotel, to the small lake in the centre of Sapa – from which we cannot even see the other side -, and through some local suburbs, where some of the mud tracks are being replaced by concrete slabs. Which have just been laid, so we cannot walk there yet, are being forced into the even muddier side of the path. Concentrating on where we put our feet, we hardly notice that we have left town and are now walking through the countryside. Still on the muddy track. Still in the mist. Tall bamboo grows on the side of the path, indicating that behind, there are houses. Very occasionally, some rice paddies shimmer through the clouds, too.

the first village, with water buffalo and pigs

corn cobs drying

and traditional black Hmong dresss drying, after dying

view from the village

cash crops, also in terrace form

and some more terraces – you cannot get enough of them, even in the mist

the ladies with the baskets, Hmong and Red Dao, in this case

A village appears, suddenly. On a clear they we could have seen in from far, but now we come upon it, in a flash. Wooden houses, with corrugated iron roofs. Waterbuffalos being fed, pigs, and the smallest piglets you have ever seen, scurrying around. Chickens, ducks, and lots of dogs, mostly good looking and well-nourished. But overall, this is a pretty poor place. Outside we do walk across the paddies, and lots of other agricultural fields, growing cash crops. Everything in the distance remains obscured.

The old woman who attached herself to our small group in Sapa, with a basket on her back, full of minority garments she is trying to sell to us, is being joined by two more ladies, with similar baskets on their backs, and similar intentions. Not much further we spot another small group, with two or three tourists and a guide. And with another two ladies with baskets on their backs. Obviously walking the same route.

collective work on enlaging a rice terrace, removing the stones

not everybody is a tourist, on the trail

kids playing in the mud, once again barely visible

Around 12, we arrive in a small village, this time with lots of more modern houses, a garment sewing place, and a few restaurants. We choose a table upstairs, with a good view. Of the insistent fog. And of many more small tourist groups, all with a guide and a few women with baskets, that appear out of the clouds covering the track. Slowly, the restaurant fills up. With tourists. This idea of an adventurous walk through distant villages and remote rice paddies needs some readjustment. This is a major tourist highway, everybody walks this walk, and in the same direction. Imagine how this will be in the high season. Or if the mist dissolves and you could see the whole path!

In the end the scenery never becomes like the spectacular photos we see in the brochures and on the walls of the hotels. You just need to be lucky for that, I think. But it is nice to be outside, walk for most of the day, wander through the different villages, of Hmong and of Red Dao; see the differences between those who do, and those who obviously don’t benefit from the tourist industry. When we arrive at the end of the trail, our guide effortlessly picks out our minibus amongst the many other minibuses, for our transport back to Sapa. Where we arrive half an hour later. In bright sunshine!

next: the first market in Muong Hum

cash crop nr. 1, yellow orchids being prepared for the Tet festival

blooming, they are fabulous

Red Dao women collectively working in the garment industry, preparing for next day’s tourist invasion

and closer to Sapa, tea plantation in bright sunlight