Day 2 was a 12km hike. We had 3 villages to track to namely to
- Ylinhho,
- Lao Chai ( Not Lao Cai the border town where our train stopped ) and
- Ta Van.
Thankfully it was downhill, literally, most of the way. At the end of the trail our van will be waiting for us. However, the morning that greeted us was a wet one. Unperturbed and a plastic raincoat in hand we were ready for the day. The start of the walk was already spectacular with heavy mist nesting over the valley.
Our guide for the day was Tanh, a sweet looking 11yr old girl. Her English was not as good as Bow from the previous day and her marketing prowess was still 'evolving'. Nevertheless, I was quite sure that she will be fluent in English given a couple of years. After all, the girl was barely out from primary school.
At the jump-off point, a couple from China shared sweets with the locals which quickly attracted a lot of children. Not too sure it was good for the children's oral health but was certain that their intention was good. Made a mental note that I should also interact more with the locals to maximise travel experience.
The rain has made our valley walk more mystical with light fog hesitantly revealing the beauty below. Neat terraces of rice fields bore testament that the people took great pride in their work. I could sense a high degree of work discipline as there were hardly any farm equipment or machinery lying about carelessly. Could see a 'love-shaped' field or was it my imagination on overdrive?
You be the judge.
Certain stretches of the walk were steep especially on slopes that were recently cleared. Our shoes were clearly ill equipped for the terrain. Even young surf boarding looking dudes were slipping and sliding down the slope. Thankfully the Hmongs were ever in attendant. We weren't shy to ask for help. The person helping me was an old lady but her supporting grip was strong and much appreciated down the hill.
I noticed the Hmongs were quite hardworking. Their hands seem ever to be weaving something or fashioning things out of the ordinary. Even when there was a 'traffic jam' along the route, they continue to work until the path before them has cleared.
Just before Lao Chai village, the valley opens up for all see. A cross section typically includes mountain, paddy fields, river, paddy fields and mountain. I could never get tired of the view. More so when you take time to observe the way the Hmongs interact with their land. There was a simple balance, the land yielding what was needed and the people took only what they need. Over development was just not in their vocabulary.
At Lao Chai, we made another token purchase and said our goodbyes. We gave them some gifts which we brought from home and the younger ones exchanged Facebook address. Wow! Our lunch was a simple fare, designed to reflect the lifestyle here. We had plain stir-fried chicken (no sauce) & cabbage and a fried egg each. Chicken meat was served on for special occasion. Therefore a typical meal here would comprised mainly vegetables. Unaccustomed, we asked for soy sauce but the nearest substitute they have was chillies, salt and a squeeze of lime.
The last leg of the journey was to Ta Van. This was a village of the Zay people, which were closely related to the Chinese. Their headgear was red and some tourist stop here for the homestay. The people here were as friendly but be forewarned that they were also keen to sell you their handicrafts. Again we enjoyed amazing views.
Wednesday, 14 September 2011
Tuesday, 13 September 2011
Serial Visitor to Vietnam ... Surprise Surprise
I was neutral on Vietnam during my first trip in 2008. The infrastructure was not impressive and the traffic chaotic. At that time I did not realize that I was bitten by the Vietnamese bug. It took a couple of weeks to dawn upon me that Vietnam was not bad after all. My initial angst was misplaced and the more I reflect, the more I like Vietnam.
Hence, in the morning of 13th September 2011, I found myself clearing immigration at Hanoi's Noi Bai International Airport, eager for another visit, my third. This time around my travel plans were much simpler, to walk the hills of Sapa and the rest of the time was ..... an open canvas.
The night train from Hanoi was to leave at 9.20pm. We assembled early and thankfully so as the train left sharp on time. We met 2 girls, Ms Low and Ms Sum who were fellow Malaysians from Johor. Comparing our tour price we found out that we 'overpaid' for our Sapa package. We paid USD$120 for a 2Day/3Nighst trip inclusive of 2 overnight train tickets and 1 night at Sapa. They paid USD$119 for 3Day/4nights. That's good negotiation on their part. We were the scary cats that booked early for ease of mind.
We arrived early at the border town of Lao Cai, the hop-off to Kunming, China. Our group was greeted by the hotel's representative and our names checked against the guest list. Note that you were not supposed to "trust" anybody at these border towns unless you want to be whisked away to the wrong hotel. Unfortunately our van was short of 1 guest and we had to wait another 40 minutes for the next train. Hotel policy dictated that we need a full load before we can leave for Sapa.
The ride to Sapa passed quickly as we were mesmerized by the beautiful valley as we crawled ever higher. We arrived at the Sapa summit Hotel at about 8.30am and given an itinerary for the next 2 days. We were quickly ushered to the morning breakfast buffet as the first walk of the day was to start in one hour at 9.30am.
The sight that greeted us at the entrance of the hotel was an experience for me. About 30 eager Black Hmong, girls and ladies, were already gathered in front of the hotel. They were held back by an invisible line to the untrained eye. They were eyeing us just as we were eyeing them. The difference being, we were doing the tourist thingy, taking photos and gawking. The Hmongs were ready for another day's work having left their village at 6am +/-.
The first hike was to Cat Cat Village which was supposed to be a half day. After a leisurely walk through part of town for about 20 minutes, we were at the entrance to the village. Our chief guide, Kher, a 32 year old Hmong, quickly paid for the entrance fees to the village. We passed through the guard house without any hitch. Our personal guide was a young girl, Bow, 22 years and with her was her baby riding piggy back.
The hike down the valley to Cat Cat was easy and we took in the sights, smell and sound of the village. We were to descend from 1500m to 1200m to view a confluence of 3 rivers coming together. The Hmongs did not waste any time and displayed their prowess in making little animals out of paddy stalks. Bow made a horse. As we approached the village our guides quickly excused themselves as they were not allowed into another village. We made a token purchase of a crafted brass bangle as a souvenir. Other items sold were ladies' handbag, sling bags and coin holders, all made of woven fabric. Personally, I think we should support trades like this to give the indigenous people a chance to be economically independent.
Walking through stalls selling native crafts and woven fabric, we passed a house making knives in the traditional way. It was hard work, tending to the oven heat and forming the red hot blades into usable parangs and knives. The ladders to the native's elevated house were also interesting. Made out of a sinle log with deep groves cut in as steps. Have seen the same ladders in Sarawak which means that these people do have some historical linkages.
Upon reaching our final destination, the roar of rushing waters could be heard from a distance. We crossed a suspension bridge to the viewpoint where most visitors stopped for photo shots. We were no different. A sense of achievement enveloped us but the hike up was just about to begin! To refuel, we ate a purple coloured ubi keledek or sweet potato sold by an obliging lady vendor. The colour of the sweet potao was just vibrant to the point of being unreal. It tasted good though.
The way up was not that bad. We resisted offers by the locals to ride back to the hotel by motorbike, at a small cost of course. The reward was a peek at this albino water buffalo! It has its own young and another adopted calf.
Hence, in the morning of 13th September 2011, I found myself clearing immigration at Hanoi's Noi Bai International Airport, eager for another visit, my third. This time around my travel plans were much simpler, to walk the hills of Sapa and the rest of the time was ..... an open canvas.
The night train from Hanoi was to leave at 9.20pm. We assembled early and thankfully so as the train left sharp on time. We met 2 girls, Ms Low and Ms Sum who were fellow Malaysians from Johor. Comparing our tour price we found out that we 'overpaid' for our Sapa package. We paid USD$120 for a 2Day/3Nighst trip inclusive of 2 overnight train tickets and 1 night at Sapa. They paid USD$119 for 3Day/4nights. That's good negotiation on their part. We were the scary cats that booked early for ease of mind.
We arrived early at the border town of Lao Cai, the hop-off to Kunming, China. Our group was greeted by the hotel's representative and our names checked against the guest list. Note that you were not supposed to "trust" anybody at these border towns unless you want to be whisked away to the wrong hotel. Unfortunately our van was short of 1 guest and we had to wait another 40 minutes for the next train. Hotel policy dictated that we need a full load before we can leave for Sapa.
The ride to Sapa passed quickly as we were mesmerized by the beautiful valley as we crawled ever higher. We arrived at the Sapa summit Hotel at about 8.30am and given an itinerary for the next 2 days. We were quickly ushered to the morning breakfast buffet as the first walk of the day was to start in one hour at 9.30am.
The sight that greeted us at the entrance of the hotel was an experience for me. About 30 eager Black Hmong, girls and ladies, were already gathered in front of the hotel. They were held back by an invisible line to the untrained eye. They were eyeing us just as we were eyeing them. The difference being, we were doing the tourist thingy, taking photos and gawking. The Hmongs were ready for another day's work having left their village at 6am +/-.
The first hike was to Cat Cat Village which was supposed to be a half day. After a leisurely walk through part of town for about 20 minutes, we were at the entrance to the village. Our chief guide, Kher, a 32 year old Hmong, quickly paid for the entrance fees to the village. We passed through the guard house without any hitch. Our personal guide was a young girl, Bow, 22 years and with her was her baby riding piggy back.
The hike down the valley to Cat Cat was easy and we took in the sights, smell and sound of the village. We were to descend from 1500m to 1200m to view a confluence of 3 rivers coming together. The Hmongs did not waste any time and displayed their prowess in making little animals out of paddy stalks. Bow made a horse. As we approached the village our guides quickly excused themselves as they were not allowed into another village. We made a token purchase of a crafted brass bangle as a souvenir. Other items sold were ladies' handbag, sling bags and coin holders, all made of woven fabric. Personally, I think we should support trades like this to give the indigenous people a chance to be economically independent.
Walking through stalls selling native crafts and woven fabric, we passed a house making knives in the traditional way. It was hard work, tending to the oven heat and forming the red hot blades into usable parangs and knives. The ladders to the native's elevated house were also interesting. Made out of a sinle log with deep groves cut in as steps. Have seen the same ladders in Sarawak which means that these people do have some historical linkages.
Upon reaching our final destination, the roar of rushing waters could be heard from a distance. We crossed a suspension bridge to the viewpoint where most visitors stopped for photo shots. We were no different. A sense of achievement enveloped us but the hike up was just about to begin! To refuel, we ate a purple coloured ubi keledek or sweet potato sold by an obliging lady vendor. The colour of the sweet potao was just vibrant to the point of being unreal. It tasted good though.
The way up was not that bad. We resisted offers by the locals to ride back to the hotel by motorbike, at a small cost of course. The reward was a peek at this albino water buffalo! It has its own young and another adopted calf.
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