Valleys and Villages

After having seen the famous bays I mentioned in my previous post, it was high-time we headed into the mountains for another tour to get us into some more remote areas. But first, we would have to catch the overnight train to the town of Lao Cai at 9:10pm.

Over an hour later the train still hadn't budged, and we were beginning to wonder what the hell was going on. We could hear voices down the hall coming from another cabin, where a Vietnamese guy was trying to translate what was happening into English. We caught something about a problem with the power supply, and sat there wondering how long it would take them to fix it, and if our driver to Sapa would still be waiting for us on the other side.

We arrived at Lao Cai three and a half hours late the next morning. For a moment I thought we'd been abandonned, that there was no one waiting for us. Then we saw someone holding a sign for "Kyun Morris" - they apparently didn't like Kym's name enough to spell it properly. We were late, but the tour was on!

After the hour-long drive to Sapa, we got on mountain bikes and began our incredible descent into a valley rippled by stunning rice terraces. The view was both hindered and enhanced by the mysterious mist that had fallen; the air was damp and the rocky track was quite slippery in some points. We passed a number of Black H'mong People, one of the ethnic minority groups of the area, easily distinguishable in the fog from their bright, traditional dress. Some of them tried to sell us their crafts, even a group of little girls who asked, "Buy something from me?" When I smiled and said, "No, thank you," they cheekily insisted, "Yes, thank you!" From their clothes to the baskets the women carried around it was evident they're a culturally rich people, however it was a bit sad that tourism had left its dirty mark.


We were later allowed into one family's home, where it was explained to us how marriages are often arranged for girls as young as 13 or 14. Meanwhile, boys often start working in the rice fields from the age of 10 or 11. An elderly lady demonstrated how they smoke through a long pipe; and apparently there's no age limit to when people can start smoking. It was all really interesting, even though we only scratched the surface of their culture.


We rode on to the village of Ban Ho (population around 3000), where we stayed with a family of Tay People. They were extremely accommodating and it was great catching a glimpse into their daily lives. The night brought heavy rain, and although it had stopped by the time we woke up, the dirt tracks had turned into mini mudslides, making the rest of our bike ride a sloppy affair.


From here on out we didn't see another foreigner; villages were smaller and not one local tried to sell us anything. People smiled and said "hello", and kids came running out of nowhere to call "Hello! Goodbye!" as we passed. As we rode up a slope in Nam Cang Village, one boy started running beside us, as if to race us. I took up his challenge, powering up the hill to overtake him, when suddenly my pants got caught in my bike chain. There was a tremendous ripping sound and I grinded to a halt, observing the 4- or 5-inch tear in my pants. But that didn't bother me too much; neither did the fact that the boy had beaten me. Mostly I was just happy that we'd shared the moment and had fun.


We rode up until Nam Sai Village, where we met the local Dzao People. By this time a light, misty rain had started falling, indicating it was time to head back. An hour later we reached Thanh Phu, mere minutes before the heavens opened up, pounding the beautiful greenery around us into slush. Fortunately, our riding for the day was done; we had hot noodles for lunch then climbed into the van to make our way back up to Sapa. All in all, an amazing experience.