October 18

Sapa-Fanispan-Hanoi: Some Tough Mudder

Before doing some actual research, I had little idea that Vietnam, particularly in the north, is a real hiking destination.  The center for trekking, as hiking is called here, is in Sapa, about 100 miles northwest of Hanoi.

Given the roads, most travelers elect to take an overnight train from Hanoi, which allows at least the potential for sleep and saves one night’s hotel expense.   After my hectic departure from Hanoi, I arrived in Lao Chi, which sits on the Chinese border, for transfer by taxi to Sapa.  Sleeping on the train was a bit spotty but I was eager to get started.  Thankfully I would have a night at a hotel in Sapa to recover.

My guide, Khahn (pronounced “kiin”) took me on a tour of nearby villages nestled in a valley bordered on all sides by sloping terraces of rice paddies.  The rice had recently been harvested and water buffalo grazed the remaining stems as some light rain and mist kept much of the valley shrouded from view.  Unfortunately, the weather was not conducive to photography, so no shots of this unique scene.  This area of Vietnam has a substantial number of ethnic minorities (there are 55 in Vietnam), including Hmong, Gao and others.  The Hmong live much as they did in the centuries they have been in these hills after migrating from Mongolia.  Most are farmers but many also work on handicrafts from a wide assortment of woven goods to silver and bronze jewelry.

Almost all the of the Hmong dress in traditional garb, mostly black but the women also wear brightly colored  head scarves.  Hmong women still learn to make their own clothes at an early age.  A great many of the Hmong women and girls spend their days on the roads and in Sapa selling handicrafts, vegetables and clothing to both locals and tourists, often attaching themselves to visitors as they wander around the villages, hoping to make a sale.  Many are strikingly attractive but hard lives take their toll.  Quite a few elderly women are tiny and bent from carrying children and goods from village to market.  Living conditions in the villages are fairly primitive, although there is a local school and hospital.  Hmong families are unusually large, typically with 5-7 children and about 30% of Hmong children still do not go to school and are put to work making or selling goods or working on the farms.

Tough as things are for them, the Hmong – like most Vietnamese – are persistent and seemingly unimpressed by much of modernity.  In fact, throughout my stay, I found the Vietnamese to be hardworking but not driven as was the case in Hong Kong.  Most have been very friendly, helpful and unblemished by the ironic attitudes prevalent in the West.

After touring the villages, Khahn and I returned to Sapa for an early supper.  He took me to a local restaurant that he likes where the surroundings were quite modest but the food cheap and delicious (while I reimbursed him, Khahn told me to let him pay since they would charge me double, two-tier pricing being a common practice).  Two friends of his sat down nearby and, as we were finishing, invited me over to share a bottle of local homemade rice wine.  After filling my thimble-sized glass, we toasted and, as was the custom, shook hands.  Quite of few rounds of this ensued with everyone toasting each other but fortunately Khahn was able to politely extract us so that hiking the next day would be unimpaired.

Somewhat improved weather greeted me the next morning as you can see.

Off we headed by minibus to the start of the hike at Heaven’s Gate, accompanied by two Hmong friends of Khahn’s who would serve as porters and cooks.  Feeling a little sheepish at this luxury, I was nonetheless grateful not to have to carry all of my water, food and sleeping gear up the mountain.  Given the off and on rain, the path upward was mostly muddy, forcing us to skirt the edges much of the time to find rocks and bamboo sticks to step on.  Stepping in the this mud brought mud up to my ankles and threatened to take my shoes right off as I stepped forward.

The terrain was steep and the going very tough indeed; many places were essentially a scramble with tree roots and bamboo shoots as handholds.  Given the elevation (we started at over 7000 feet), I was pretty draggy by lunchtime with the hardest section yet to some.  The afternoon seemed endless with the mud, my fatigue and the intermittent rain.  At one point in the middle of a steep downhill section (never a happy sight when you know it just adds to the overall climb) we encountered a yellow speckled snake next to the path.  Not knowing if it was poisonous and not willing to risk it, the Hmong men dispatched the snake with rocks and bamboo sticks.  Don’t tell the Wildlife Federation.

Eventually, by late afternoon, we reached the park campground at about 9,500 feet where we would spend the night.  This was a humble place. There was bamboo hut covered with plastic materials and a wood floor, where we were able to pitch our tent, as well as two kitchen huts, which were, in a word, squalid – littered with plastic trash, thickly blackened pots and a dirt floor that had seen countless visitors.  Yet, the Hmong men meticulously cleaned all the cooking and eating utensils with boiling water and, after much chopping and cooking, produced a splendid meal of no less than six dishes from French fries to chicken, pork, eggs, beef and vegetables (my first exposure to eating morning glory leaves as a green – tasting a little like broccoli rabe).  The older man produced his own plastic jug of rice wine, which kept us warm as the temperature dropped steadily; it would reach about 35 overnight).

Sleeping was bit of a challenge and I tossed and turned, looking for a comfortable position on the thin mat we slept on.  The morning was a welcome, if foggy sight.  After a breakfast of delicious fried rice, we headed off a little after 6 for the summit of the mountain.  This involved a steep down section before  the final push upward, which left me breathless at times as we clambered up the foggy trail.  By 8:30, though, we were standing at the summit, the first from the campground to do so and were rewarded by the only clear views of the day since, as we began our descent, the fog rolled back in.  The sights were magnificent, rolling hills and mist-covered peaks in all directions with seemingly ancient valleys between them.  

There was a lot of hiking left, though, and after a few minutes of rest, we headed back down (and then up) to get back to the campground.  The down was less taxing but my knees were complaining and, after a few hours of this, my quads were too.  We had another lunch of noodle soup made fresh on the mountain and, after 8 hours of hiking, we arrived back at Heaven's Gate for the ride home - elated, exhausted and happy to be done.

A quick shower and a shared beer with local guides and then we took off for Lao Cai so I could catch the overnight train back to Hanoi.  This time I slept and practically had to be woken when we arrived.  Early arrival at the hotel allowed me to grab some more shut-eye before I stumbled through the crazy Hanoi traffic to see a few temples and get a well-deserved massage.  An early bed before leaving for Bangkok was a nice reward.

Despite its relative poverty and erratic development, Vietnam is a captivating place that I hope to return to, although perhaps for some less arduous exploration.