Trekking in Sapa Day 1

The soft sleeper is quite comfortable, but the train is still a bumpy ride. It’s important to wear warm clothes at night since the air conditioning can’t be turned down. We slept with our backpacks up on the bed since there were four beds in the cabin, and we didn’t know the other two travelers. At 6:30 AM, we arrived in Lao Cai, where a short bus ride awaited us to Sapa. The road was in pretty bad shape, but they were working on improvements for Sapa’s 100th birthday. There had been many landslides that had damaged the road. When we got to our hotel in Sapa, breakfast was served. If the weather had allowed, we could have enjoyed the view over the entire valley and seen the mountains on the horizon. One of the mountains was called "Fansipan," which is the name of our travel company. After breakfast, we were divided into groups, and I ended up with an older French couple. I was the only one with proper trekking shoes, so Honny and the French couple went with the guide to buy shoes. I had my jungle shoes from my survival trip in Malaysia. Honny couldn’t find a pair in size 45, so he had to wear his sandals. Once everyone was properly equipped, we started our trek in pouring rain and a good amount of mud. Occasionally, the rain eased up and the clouds cleared, giving us glimpses of the beautiful valley and mountains. Along the way, we bought trekking poles to help prevent slipping and falling while going up and down the hills. In the first village we reached, we met the Black H’mong people. We saw how they lived, slept, ate, and worked. The women wore black outfits and had a comb in their hair so they could always keep it neat and quickly fix it if it got messy. We visited their school, where there were about 50 students in each class. We learned about their culture, including arranged marriages. If a girl didn’t want to marry the chosen one, she would show her resistance by refusing to eat, which sometimes led to tragic outcomes if the family didn’t relent. At 1:30 PM, we had lunch with a view of the river. After that, we continued hiking until 3:30 PM, when we finally arrived at our overnight stay with a local tribe. Our feet were sore from walking, and our shoulders ached from carrying our backpacks. My feet were especially sore since I had developed quite a few blisters. It turned out my shoes were too big for me—strange. Honny managed the trek just fine in his sandals, so maybe proper hiking shoes aren’t as crucial unless you’re trekking for weeks. We had hoped to stay in a more secluded and primitive setting. The houses and the locals’ way of life were indeed quite basic, but unfortunately, we were very close to other tourists since the government decides where you can stay, and travel companies can’t make arrangements directly with the locals. The tribe house consisted of two rooms—a living area and a kitchen. There was a loft under the ceiling with mattresses to sleep on. In front of the house, there was a tap where you could wash up, sheltered by a small fence. The toilet was down by the river, where you had to climb down a little path and jump over a small stream to reach “the little house” with a small hole in the ground. We were told we could also bathe in the river, but after seeing where the toilet waste went, we lost our appetite for that. The children in the village didn’t go off to the side to pee; they did it right in the middle of the paths. Our guide, Hieu, smoked a lot of hookah and claimed there was nothing in the tobacco, but he became more and more serious and dreamy as the evening went on. We were constantly approached by sellers who had followed us all day. They wanted to sell silver bracelets, crocheted bracelets, hats, and rugs. Honny bought a few crocheted bracelets for 1,000 dong each just to get some peace, but that only attracted even more eager sellers. Hieu cooked for us, and it was really delicious. We had rice, pork, beef, potatoes, vegetables, and tofu. He didn’t want to eat with us but preferred to sit with his family. After dinner, we sang Vietnam’s national anthem “Ho Chi Minh,” which is a revolutionary song. We also had the chance to ask questions. Hieu told us that the locals eat everything—even their pets like dogs. The spot many women have on their foreheads is a burn mark. If someone has a headache, they cure it by placing a glowing buffalo horn on their forehead, after which the headache disappears. Fifteen days later, the wound falls off.