Trekking in the Mists
Trips from Sapa in North West Vietnam
After three months “on the road” and having sourced information and made a myriad of decisions myself, without reference or input from other people, it was very refreshing to sit down with Pete of the Sapa Rooms Boutique Hotel and have him make suggestions for how I could spend the time in the area.
It’s generally recommended that you take a tour up to Sapa and the majority of visitors I chatted to had done just that, but in my usual independent fashion I didn’t want to do that. I found that it wasn’t difficult to travel independently but I suspect that having Pete provide suggestions and organize a guide made it easier.
On my first full day the weather didn’t look at all promising due to persistent rain but the second day even though the mist was annoying and obscured the mountains, the rain held off. I left Sapa on the back of Huong’s motor cycle wearing several layers of clothing including a waterproof coat and pants which was essential because even in the mist I got wet. However, my young guide didn’t even have a jacket and I felt rather sorry for him as we raced through the countryside.
As we descended into the valley we left the mist above us but it hung around the tops of the mountains. On arrival in the village we were greeted by several H’mong women who stopped to chat and then put the heavy word on me to buy – and buy from each of the seven! They decided to follow me and so we looked like a bright celebratory procession as we traipsed, often single file, through their village and up the rise to the place where traditional medicines, made from local plants, are boiled in massive vats until they reduce to form a concentrate.
When we were nearly there, I could hear the cries of a young baby. It was a four week old swaddled and intricately strapped to his mothers back. When we stopped she unwrapped him and put him to the breast to suckle. The boys here are differentiated from the girls by the number of colours in their hats. The hats the children wear are very pretty and have good luck metal (like coins) sewn into the cloth. They believe that it is bad luck for anyone to touch the head of a child and as a westerner I found it rather difficult to refrain from patting them.
Here girls can marry at 18 and boys at 20. I was informed that the girls cannot marry until they have learnt to sew well. “Why?” I asked in typical western naivety.
“We must be able to sew to make clothes for ourselves and our family” was the prompt reply. With that short statement, I am quickly taken back in time; way back.
The men work hard and are rather stoic as they wander the roads, their long black pants rolled up to create shorts. Their bodies are “nuggety” - short, compact with strong muscles and not an ounce of surplus fat.
But the women work even harder. Not only do they work in the fields when required, they cook, take care of the children, make the families clothes and embroider, sew and sell goods to tourists. To sell their goods might necessitate a walk of many miles into Sapa.
Part of their costume is a striking richly embroidered piece of cloth hanging from the waist down the back of their skirts to mid thigh and I was told that this takes a year to embroider with silk. They are very beautiful.
In this village, after the women marry their eyebrows and some hair back from the forehead is shaved and they don a bright red head dress making it very easy to tell the two groups apart.
At the end of our couple of hours together they all demanded I buy from them. I said I would have a look at everyone’s goods and then make a decision but I was NOT buying from each of them. I got the young village girl whose English was excellent to let them know my intentions. Well…..in hindsight looking at each persons goods was a mistake because it turned into a high pitched frenzy of “you must buy from me…I have a baby….you took my photo….I was your guide…..I followed you” etc etc. I was disturbed. They would be great in a rugby scrum and would come up with the ball every time.
In the end I bought something from each of them, but only after a couple of them followed me into the area where my lunch was being prepared and got cross with me. I was quite upset over the whole episode. Had I been in a group I think it may have helped because there would have been more people to share the purchasing load, provide a distraction or lend moral support.
The prices are so cheap it seems rather criminal to bargain, but again, it’s expected and respected and I didn’t spend very much money to get a big pile of goods to take home for myself and as presents. Like I needed more stuff! Actually I’ll have to send another parcel home because the “extras” are mounting up.
After lunch, my local guides have my money so they disappeared to focus on other tasks, or tourists, and Huong and I were able to wander through the countryside which I loved. It was very peaceful, and interesting to see how they cultivate the land and live in this rural countryside dominated by the task and business of growing rice. I saw few other tourists once in and around the villages.
The next day I decide to go by myself and walk down the winding road to Cat Cat Village. I suppose it took about an hour and was downhill all the way and very very pretty. I took the photo of the hut on the way down. At one stage the road veers left and after paying a 75cent entrance fee, I descend hundreds of steps through the village, terraced rice fields and water buffalo working. At the bottom there is a waterfall along with the inevitable stall sellers. Here I buy two hand embroidered cushion covers for about $8. Believe it or not, I know I’ve paid over the top but having embroidered myself, I know the time involved in working this pattern would take a great many hours and I wasn’t about to bargain too hard.
Thankfully there is a group of the ever present scooter drivers waiting at the bottom of the hill to transport lazy or tired trekkers back to the top and as I was in the first category, for $1 I engage one. My legs are very sore the next day from all the steps but I am happy to have had the opportunity to visit these villages and spend a little time amongst these proud hard working people.
The air is so very clean and clear up there and having come from some seriously polluted cities I feel great to have been breathing fresh air.
Listening to comments around Sapa, other tourists had similar hassles in the villages and were also disturbed. It is incredibly intense and I think it’s rather a pity because it mars an otherwise special experience. I’ve put a photograph of a “scrum” of villagers I saw in Sapa. A large group focused on a two of French women who were buying. It’s taken from the balcony outside my room at the hotel and looks back towards the local market.
On a trip to another village the next day, one older Black H'mong woman (called that because of their dress) walked beside me for over half an hour. I thought she was returning to her village. I should have wised up because whenever I stopped to take a photo, she stopped too. Once I had purchased something from her and I think I spent about 50c, she just turned around and went back up the hill into Sapa. I experienced that twice during different walks.
At night time I download my photos over a wine and one of the guides is interested in photography and so I encourage him to have a play with my camera.
On my last night a Singaporean mother and adult daughter pair are about to tuck into a Vietnamese Hot Pot and when they see the mountain of food in front of them ask if I have dined. I hadn’t and so they asked me to join them. I had a very pleasant evening sharing it with them. It’s a dish where diners cook a variety of meat and vegetables in a liquid and then drink the broth. It was very tasty and the company excellent. I felt blessed.
On my final day in Sapa, the train isn’t due to leave until 2115 and so I decide to do a day trip to another market which turns out to be one of the many highlights of my entire trip. I will write about that next time…….
I’m loving……wandering in the fresh air in the countryside. Oh and having long chats with another from downunder.
I’m missing……not much.
Taste sensation…….the hot pot. I’m sure the food at the hotel is tastier because Pete tried to source organic ingredients.
Bargain of the moment…….all the local handicrafts.
I’m surprised……at how much time I spend working out what I’m going to do in a place, where I will stay, how I will get to a place etc.
Trips from Sapa in North West Vietnam
After three months “on the road” and having sourced information and made a myriad of decisions myself, without reference or input from other people, it was very refreshing to sit down with Pete of the Sapa Rooms Boutique Hotel and have him make suggestions for how I could spend the time in the area.
It’s generally recommended that you take a tour up to Sapa and the majority of visitors I chatted to had done just that, but in my usual independent fashion I didn’t want to do that. I found that it wasn’t difficult to travel independently but I suspect that having Pete provide suggestions and organize a guide made it easier.
On my first full day the weather didn’t look at all promising due to persistent rain but the second day even though the mist was annoying and obscured the mountains, the rain held off. I left Sapa on the back of Huong’s motor cycle wearing several layers of clothing including a waterproof coat and pants which was essential because even in the mist I got wet. However, my young guide didn’t even have a jacket and I felt rather sorry for him as we raced through the countryside.
As we descended into the valley we left the mist above us but it hung around the tops of the mountains. On arrival in the village we were greeted by several H’mong women who stopped to chat and then put the heavy word on me to buy – and buy from each of the seven! They decided to follow me and so we looked like a bright celebratory procession as we traipsed, often single file, through their village and up the rise to the place where traditional medicines, made from local plants, are boiled in massive vats until they reduce to form a concentrate.
When we were nearly there, I could hear the cries of a young baby. It was a four week old swaddled and intricately strapped to his mothers back. When we stopped she unwrapped him and put him to the breast to suckle. The boys here are differentiated from the girls by the number of colours in their hats. The hats the children wear are very pretty and have good luck metal (like coins) sewn into the cloth. They believe that it is bad luck for anyone to touch the head of a child and as a westerner I found it rather difficult to refrain from patting them.
Here girls can marry at 18 and boys at 20. I was informed that the girls cannot marry until they have learnt to sew well. “Why?” I asked in typical western naivety.
“We must be able to sew to make clothes for ourselves and our family” was the prompt reply. With that short statement, I am quickly taken back in time; way back.
The men work hard and are rather stoic as they wander the roads, their long black pants rolled up to create shorts. Their bodies are “nuggety” - short, compact with strong muscles and not an ounce of surplus fat.
But the women work even harder. Not only do they work in the fields when required, they cook, take care of the children, make the families clothes and embroider, sew and sell goods to tourists. To sell their goods might necessitate a walk of many miles into Sapa.
Part of their costume is a striking richly embroidered piece of cloth hanging from the waist down the back of their skirts to mid thigh and I was told that this takes a year to embroider with silk. They are very beautiful.
In this village, after the women marry their eyebrows and some hair back from the forehead is shaved and they don a bright red head dress making it very easy to tell the two groups apart.
At the end of our couple of hours together they all demanded I buy from them. I said I would have a look at everyone’s goods and then make a decision but I was NOT buying from each of them. I got the young village girl whose English was excellent to let them know my intentions. Well…..in hindsight looking at each persons goods was a mistake because it turned into a high pitched frenzy of “you must buy from me…I have a baby….you took my photo….I was your guide…..I followed you” etc etc. I was disturbed. They would be great in a rugby scrum and would come up with the ball every time.
In the end I bought something from each of them, but only after a couple of them followed me into the area where my lunch was being prepared and got cross with me. I was quite upset over the whole episode. Had I been in a group I think it may have helped because there would have been more people to share the purchasing load, provide a distraction or lend moral support.
The prices are so cheap it seems rather criminal to bargain, but again, it’s expected and respected and I didn’t spend very much money to get a big pile of goods to take home for myself and as presents. Like I needed more stuff! Actually I’ll have to send another parcel home because the “extras” are mounting up.
After lunch, my local guides have my money so they disappeared to focus on other tasks, or tourists, and Huong and I were able to wander through the countryside which I loved. It was very peaceful, and interesting to see how they cultivate the land and live in this rural countryside dominated by the task and business of growing rice. I saw few other tourists once in and around the villages.
The next day I decide to go by myself and walk down the winding road to Cat Cat Village. I suppose it took about an hour and was downhill all the way and very very pretty. I took the photo of the hut on the way down. At one stage the road veers left and after paying a 75cent entrance fee, I descend hundreds of steps through the village, terraced rice fields and water buffalo working. At the bottom there is a waterfall along with the inevitable stall sellers. Here I buy two hand embroidered cushion covers for about $8. Believe it or not, I know I’ve paid over the top but having embroidered myself, I know the time involved in working this pattern would take a great many hours and I wasn’t about to bargain too hard.
Thankfully there is a group of the ever present scooter drivers waiting at the bottom of the hill to transport lazy or tired trekkers back to the top and as I was in the first category, for $1 I engage one. My legs are very sore the next day from all the steps but I am happy to have had the opportunity to visit these villages and spend a little time amongst these proud hard working people.
The air is so very clean and clear up there and having come from some seriously polluted cities I feel great to have been breathing fresh air.
Listening to comments around Sapa, other tourists had similar hassles in the villages and were also disturbed. It is incredibly intense and I think it’s rather a pity because it mars an otherwise special experience. I’ve put a photograph of a “scrum” of villagers I saw in Sapa. A large group focused on a two of French women who were buying. It’s taken from the balcony outside my room at the hotel and looks back towards the local market.
On a trip to another village the next day, one older Black H'mong woman (called that because of their dress) walked beside me for over half an hour. I thought she was returning to her village. I should have wised up because whenever I stopped to take a photo, she stopped too. Once I had purchased something from her and I think I spent about 50c, she just turned around and went back up the hill into Sapa. I experienced that twice during different walks.
At night time I download my photos over a wine and one of the guides is interested in photography and so I encourage him to have a play with my camera.
On my last night a Singaporean mother and adult daughter pair are about to tuck into a Vietnamese Hot Pot and when they see the mountain of food in front of them ask if I have dined. I hadn’t and so they asked me to join them. I had a very pleasant evening sharing it with them. It’s a dish where diners cook a variety of meat and vegetables in a liquid and then drink the broth. It was very tasty and the company excellent. I felt blessed.
On my final day in Sapa, the train isn’t due to leave until 2115 and so I decide to do a day trip to another market which turns out to be one of the many highlights of my entire trip. I will write about that next time…….
I’m loving……wandering in the fresh air in the countryside. Oh and having long chats with another from downunder.
I’m missing……not much.
Taste sensation…….the hot pot. I’m sure the food at the hotel is tastier because Pete tried to source organic ingredients.
Bargain of the moment…….all the local handicrafts.
I’m surprised……at how much time I spend working out what I’m going to do in a place, where I will stay, how I will get to a place etc.
Photos: Dress shop Cat Cat style (notice the colours of everyday wear),
Home in the mist just out of Sapa on the way to Cat Cat Village, the hill tribe lady who followed me, houses on the way to Ta Phin village and the view approaching Cat Cat.
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