We had a reasonably comfortable night’s sleep although Vietnamese sleepers are definitely not the quietest we’ve experienced. Andy is still not well – high temperature, low energy, lethargy, headache, nausea, loss of appetite – we are wondering whether we have made the right decision continuing with this trip, particularly as we face one-and-half days trekking through the mountains. We are met at the station and transfer to a mini-bus for the hour’s journey to Sapa town. We are doing this trip with Daniel and Fiona, two young Australians that we met on the Halong Bay trip. There will be just the four of us and a guide, which should make for a good trek. After a shower and leisurely breakfast our guide, Nem, arrives for our 10am start. The weather is drizzly and the surrounding mountains and valleys are shrouded in thick mist and low cloud obscuring, for the time being at least, the famed beauty of the landscape. Not the most auspicious of starts and we soon discover just how slippery this weather makes the trails. My first, and most useful, purchase of what will be many along the way, is a bamboo pole for 10,000 Dong; a snip at 38p! I now feel equipped to met any challenge. Today’s trek is about 7km and we make several stops along the way including one for lunch in large two storey cafe-cum-kitchen with DIY, open-plan cooking facilities. It has rained incessantly since we left Sapa and despite our rain gear our clothes are damp mainly from condensation under our ponchos. Nem cooks us a delicious meal of Pho – Vietnamese noodle soup – followed by fruit. Not surprisingly given his condition Andy is struggling but we make it to the family homestay in the village of Ta Van around 4.30pm.
We are accompanied all the way to our lunch stop by a group of Black H’Mong women. Eight of them walk with us assigning themselves in pairs to each of us, giving unsolicited assistance if we are in danger of stumbling or slipping. Andy finds them incredibly annoying while they don’t seem to concern themselves with Daniel and Fiona. So it is only me who bears the brunt of this attention. My arms and hands being grabbed at every slightly tricky spot and I’m guided along, shown where to put my feet and constantly asked ‘are you OK?’ at every slight slip or unsure footing. Underlying this arrangement, of course, is an unspoken contract which involves buying some of their handicrafts as a reciprocal payment. Trekkers have a mixed reaction to this quasi commercial arrangement – some like me go along it, purchasing jewellery, bags, cushion covers or some other embroidered items which they draw from their baskets, while others refuse to be pressurised, seeing it as a kind of emotional blackmail. I end up buying four items of jewellery; one from each of our four ‘helpers’ all for the princely sum of £4.
The Black H’Mong are one of the many Hill Tribes that live in the villages of this area. The men are rarely to be seen, but the Black H’Mong women are in evidence in the villages along the route and shadowing the few trekking parties that we come across. These tiny women are a distinctive sight with their indigo-dyed traditional dress, umbrellas and cylindrical baskets slung on their backs. At each stop groups of women are standing in the rain waiting for their trekkers to resume their walk. At the lunch stop there must 30 or so women congregated outside in the rain, waiting patiently for their trekkers to emerge and buy from them. But despite their persistant presence they are an engaging people, with their infectious smiles, direct questions and the often repeated refrain ‘you buy from me?’
We arrive at our homestay wet and tired, our shoes are sodden and it is still raining. We are soon sitting on the veranda with a cup of green tea (later to be followed by a beer) in dry clothes and feet in dry shoes the latter courtesy of our hosts.
We are staying overnight in the village of Ta Van. This is a village of the Dzay people and we are saying at the home of a local family. The homestay is in a fantastic location at the bottom of the valley overlooking a fast-flowing and noisy river, swollen by the heavy rains. This family have trekkers staying three or four times a week and can accommodate up to 20 people on the gallery in the main house. Mattresses with mosquito nets are laid on the floor – basic but surprisingly comfortable. The family sleep on the ground floor which is a single large sparsely furnished room – four beds, a television and a couple f chairs – with a beaten earth floor. A veranda on two sides of the house overlooks the river and the encircling mountains covered in terraced rice paddies; this is a view to die for.
Andy, who has struggled through the day despite feeling terrible, is spark out on one of the mattresses.
We are invited into the kitchen to watch the family prepare dinner. The kitchen is a separate building adjacent to the main house and consists of half-brick, half-bamboo walls, a corrugated roof and concrete floor.. There is an open fire with a trivet for the wok and a large sunken area where spring water runs constantly into a metal bowl on the floor. This serves as the sink and food preparation area. Here our hostess squats whilst she chops the ingredients for half a dozen or so dishes that we will be eating tonight. We eat a delicious meal with Grandma, Grandad, Grandaughter (2) and our guide, Nem. Andy doesn’t eaten anything and is very subdued. He struggled through the day despite feeling terrible, and has spend most of the time since we arrived at the homestay spark out on one of the mattresses, refusing even glass of beer – a sure sign that things are serious.
By 7.30 all the washing up is complete and the family are retiring to bed! We turn in shortly afterwards – we have a half-day trek tomorrow.