After a full 10 days in Hanoi and off the back of the hustle and bustle of Osaka, we were sweaty, drained and in need of a change. Not to sound ungrateful here, but trying to push yourself to be out/exploring/at it all-day-everyday is actually pretty hard and truthfully I’d been neglecting the reality of my life prior to this chapter; it was filled with breaks and days/periods of nothing when I was tired and needed to re-charge.
So this is exactly what we sought when a friend recommended Sapa to me two weeks before. For context, Sapa is a small city near the border with China with a much cooler climate and is frequently referred to as a hiker’s paradise. We booked an overnight train (8 hours long) via a site; Baolau, and tolerated a bumpy sleep, waking to the stereotypical view that comes to mind when you think of Vietnam; rice paddies. It was about 10 degrees and raining, and truthfully I’d never been so happy to be back in the cold, as we haggled with a taxi driver for our lift. For 250’000 dong – including a 50’000 dong fee for maintenance we arrived in a village called Ta Van in the Muong Hoa Valley – abut 40 mins outside of Sapa. We had arranged a homestay which meant you booked to stay with a local family who would make your meals, take you around the area and introduce you to the lives of different ethnic groups in the valley. Safe to say we didn’t get this experience exactly, the valley was becoming noticeably more commercialised the longer we spent there, including the women who surrounded our taxi as we arrived to get us SHOPPING with them! But what we did get was a few days of cool air, long walks against some lush scenery, and a new experience of Vietnam outwith the city. It was the caffeine shot I badly needed.
Our beds were nothing more than a mattress on the floor of a kitted-out barn with mosquito nets, but as Fraser will testify, our sleeps here were some of the comfiest we had had since leaving home. The family were lovely and despite not speaking much english, the gestures, smiles and simple “mornings” were enough to set us up nicely for each new day. Over and above the family however, there was an absolutely gorgeous dog which really made it for me. He had no name because most dogs in Vietnam are not conventional pets, but he took a good tummy scratch and this also satisfied the need for animal affection I’d been LONGING for.
The first day we were pretty shattered from the train and went on a tame walk up the hills of this literal lush green valley. We passed through small villages being chased by women trying to sell us jewellery and tat and passed family front rooms filled with young kids desperate to say hello. It was a weird mix of feeling like a complete outsider and feeling completely at home in the cold. But we ran with it.
Within a few minutes of walking you could have a new vantage point of the whole valley below the clouds, covering the tops of the surrounding hills. Every view was like warm soup for the god damn soul, so we walked for more than 2 hours through herds of cattle and past miniature waterfalls before returning to the homestay for a cold Lao Cai beer overlooking the pitch dark valley. As we watched the lights of disparate house across the way go out, one by one, we planned for another full day of walking as the sound of anti-vietnam war songs played in the background. Strangely enough this was the bar’s own choice but I couldn’t complain because who doesn’t love a bit of Credence Clearwater Revival.
The next day met us with a full forecast of rain so we had to suit-up, and as the images now show I looked ridiculous, but we weren’t going to let the rain strike us out for one of the few days we had there. We set off walking through the village at about 11am and found the red clay-like mud clung to our boots – to the point that the grips ceased to function. This was fine until we found our only way back was up a very steep hill next to a waterfall. Chaos ensued. The number of perfectly comical falls slathering our hands and backsides in deep red clay surpassed count and the walk easily took double the amount of time it probably should have. We really should have take the word of the french couple that hit the deck whilst warning us that the way we were headed was too difficult, but if I’ve learned anything from this trip so far it’s that I’m tragically headstrong. I remember questioning the couple in my own mind; “she’s not even wearing appropriate clothes for this, I’ll be SO fine” – famous last words.
On our final day we walked all the way into Sapa over the course of 2 hours and found what could have been the set of a Wes Anderson film. We were so high up that clouds covered most of Sapa, and masses of people from time to time as we wandered. It was a bit creepy but for the sake of not sweating my tits off, I couldn’t complain.
Should you travel to Vietnam, don’t miss the North because it may just be the respite you need… if you count hiking in the pissing rain as respite like I do!
Fu***ing off; a personal tale of travels, triumphs and travesties. 