We finally left at around ten AM, the troops fully roused and revived by a simple breakfast of crepes, sliced banana, and honey. The concept of a pancake or crepe, depending on the country, seems to be rather ubiquitous in my travels in SE Asia. And then we were off, thrust suddenly on to a path of steep climbs and descents and then, of course, a path that was at least calf-deep in slippery mud. To avoid slogging along this well-worn path, we took a route about three feet to the right of the path, a perilously slanted strip of turf with little purchase for our feet. In order to remain standing, we had to grip bamboo stalks that had been bent out of place to provide handholds. At times, it was the only thing securing us to the hillside. While the bamboo thatch on the other side would have broken our fall down the mountainside, it wouldn't be comfortable.
Given how steep and physically taxing the hike was, we stopped at several places. The front porch of a home atop a mountain, the hillside falling away at your feet. A waterfall where the white froth spilled out on two sides of a dry perch, where we sat and tried not to lose our belongings. I can only imagine what is is like to roll out of bed every morning, peek outside, and behold the terraced valley rippling out between mountains.
And then, as suddenly as it began, the hike ended. It had been about two hours including our breaks, making it time for lunch. We were then given about an hour and a half to eat our bowl of instant noodles with a fried egg floating in the broth, the strangely leisurely meal style that we have come to expect of Sapa tours. I wonder if this is what they think we want or whether it is merely a way of killing time. Anyway, we suited up for the rest of our hike and were told that the bus back was meeting us in ten minutes. What? We were all surprised. The itinerary had called for about five hours of hiking. When we reread the description, we realized that we had made all of the mentioned stops, but the timing was definitely off. Almost everyone was a bit frustrated that our "two full days of hiking" had been reduced to two morning constitutionals. Between the home stay without interaction with an actual family and the curtailed hiking, I was certainly angry. But if Vietnam has taught me anything, it is that most tours are designed for most tourists, not action-happy exercise junkies like me (Tulan Caves being the notable exception).
We were driven back to Sapa town and had several free hours to kill before our bus to the train station. Still frustrated, I went for a walk around the village. Despite being the most densely populated part of the nearby mountains, the walk from end to end was quite short. The stores were completely tourist-oriented as I mentioned before: trekking gear, hotels, restaurants offering Western fare, and massage parlors for the sore hiker. The same bag-and-bracelet women wandered the streets like small craft-selling gangs, calling out the familiar refrain "Yu name? Whereyufrum? Howoldyuare?" to try and establish a connection with potential buyers. To this was added the conspiratorial "Motobike?" offer of Western-dressed men. At the other extreme of town was the market, with a variety of fried, baked, and fresh offerings.
Later that night, I shared my sleeper train cabin with three girls from Belgium just starting a month-long Vietnam adventure. Their excitement reminded me not to be so jaded, and to look around each day with fresh eyes. I hope I can keep that going for the next three days.
Spotted: Families backpacking together. This is something that I have noticed more in Vietnam than in Thailand or Cambodia. Families are bringing along children, often 8, into an environment filled with partying university students and scams. And beautiful countryside, modest budgets, fantastic culture, and elicits street food. There have also been couples backpacking on their honeymoon. It's made me reconsider a lot of my assumptions about travel as I age. While I don't think I will backpack the way that I do now when I'm 50 or have children, I do think it will forever influence how I travel.
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