We’d arrived back from our hike up Fansipan mountain (read out last post about it here), and were in the town of Sapa contemplating what to do next. Sapa is famous around Vietnam for trekking between villages and through the rice paddies of its valleys, so we thought we should taste of the rich green scenery.

The question arised again of whether we take a guide, and of course where we go. Any important question has to be answered in a good coffee shop. Gecko Cafe, beside the lake, was our sofa of choice…. Great coffee, great food and lovely staff. It was a welcome relief from some of the downsides to this picturesque town. Though litter isn’t really a problem here as in many Vietnamese towns, in our opinions it is tainted by two other scourges of this part of the world… neon lights and loud dance music. As the sun goes down, this beautiful town is lit with unattractive neon lights everywhere, and every other restaurant pumps out loud dance music with the bass on max, often accompanied by terrible karaoke. What could be a relaxing and pleasent town becomes tacky and crass.

We decided that having blown all of our money on a guide for Fansipan, we’d go it alone this time. We figured that if we follow the advice in the blogs, just walk down into the valleys and get lost, then we can’t go too far wrong.

After a great breakfast, the next morning we were back on our feet and heading downhill. Some people had suggested that we walk down into the village of Cat Cat (the name is derived from ‘cascade’, due to its waterfall). We descended a lengthy road to the village and found that to get in we had to pay 75,000 Dong each (£2.50). We wanted to do the honest and decent thing, so tried to skirt around the ticket booths, but they had that place locked down!!!

Looking at the map, the ticketed area was just the village, and we were more interested in walking through the countryside, so we decided to go back up the hill and find a different way into the valley. Near the top, sweltering in the sun, we stopped for a drink at a cafe overlooking the valley. Not only was it beautiful, but as we looked across we saw a group led by a guide making their way down to the valley on a small dirt path. That was our way down!

After a bit of faff, including ending up on a farm, we found the path and wiggled our way down into the valleys. Away from the hoards of other tourists, in amongst the beautiful landscapes, we knew we’d made the right decision to come this way.

We found ourselves on a broad trail which we followed away from town. While we were certainly still on the beaten track, we were away from the hustle and bustle, and could just take in the peace and scenery.

After a few kilometres we broke from the wide path and found a narrow track weaving around the top of a waterfall. Crossing a bridge we found a small pristinely paved path snaking through a hamlet, the residents smiling and welcoming us as we passed their homes. This path became smaller and smaller until it ran out.

We didn’t want to go completely away from paths and risk damaging crops, so we followed an already trampled line, down through the towering stepped rice paddies, passing some women hard at work carving out the fields. We later asked someone what all the men did, as in town and in the fields we only saw the Hmong women, very rarely the men. We were told that in their society the women do most of the work, in recent generations this has led to high levels of alcohol abuse amongst the men (and therefore domestic abuse), so the men are generally at home drinking while the women are out working and the children are generally looked after by the older children. It was very common to see a 4 year old child walking the streets on their own with an infant strapped to their back.

We saw the main path we wanted to get back onto, unfortunately there was a river in the way. We descended to the bottom of the paddies and found a way across the river. Baking in the midday sun, the river was too shallow to get into but I could soak my clothes in the refreshing ice cool water coming from the mountains above, an enormous relief. We had a steep climb back to the path, then it only got steeper on the path as we continued towards a village and lunch.

Flagging as we reached the top of the hill, we came across a house on our left that seemed to offer food. We scurried in and were welcomed with offers of copious food at a negligible price. We took a seat in the desperately needed shade, and soon a feast was laid in front of us.

The house was two stories, set into a hill so that the upper level was at ground level to the hill. We gazed out at the stunning scenery, until the windows were filled with local children looking to sell us their handicrafts. Inevitably they begin with the droning, miserable lines that their parents have told them will bring the sympathy of tourists ‘buy bracelet so I can go to school’, ‘no money, need food’. All of the advice for visitors rightly insists that you don’t buy from the children as it discourages them from attending school. We decline their offers and they return to being children, just playing on the slopes. They laugh and smile in the sun, swinging on a gate, and revel in our smiles back to them… The universal language of joy.

We finish our incredible lunch and step back onto the path, our energy replenished. As we step out, another traveller passes and asks for directions, she is walking alone and going to the same village as us, so we walk together. Betina is a home designer from Austria, travelling for a few months between jobs. I say that ‘we’ walked with her, rather Ness was the grown up and walked with Betina while I was distracted playing with one of the children who was following us. The young girl started by trying to sell us her crafts, but soon gave up when I began a game of hide and seek along the path. Every now and then Ness would shout back at me and we would run to catch up. Sadly after 30 minutes the young girl, aged no more than 7, had to turn back, and I rejoined the adults.

After 5 hours of walking, and with a couple still to go if we wanted to get back, we turned around and began the slog uphill and towards the town. Again we roasted in the heat, but had the occasional relief of roadside waterfalls in which to bathe.

Back to town, back to Gecko Coffee! We reflected on the wonderful day we’d had exploring a world so different to ours, a pre-modern world where life is physical and tough in the fields, yet endlessly beautiful.

We were due to be on a bus at 7am the next day, but one thing remained for me. On the early morning drive to the base of Fansipan, I had been taken aback by the beauty of sunrise over these mountains, and wanted to enjoy it from outside of a car. Much to Ness’ disgust I woke up at 5am and snuck out (no way she’d be joining me at that time!), ambling across to the lake. As I arrived the sky began to lighten as streaks of morning cut through the valleys into the waking town. Sat on a causeway beside the lake, I was soon joined by a young Vietnamese man, also with his camera. We’d both chosen the same spot, and we sat beside each other clicking away as the light struck the mountain tops in front of us. He spoke as little English as I speak Vietnamese, but we enjoyed the company, and Google Translate helped a little. Sadly the spectacular colours blocked by some badly timed cloud, but it was still a great experience on which to end a very enjoyable leg to our trip.

Our next stop was the island of Cat Ba, amongst the iconic cliffs of Ha Long bay, it is known for its scenery, climbing, chilled atmosphere and for being home to some of the world’s rarest monkeys. We boarded the bus at about 7am just as we read that a typhoon was coming down from Hong Kong to hit Cat Ba in the next couple of days. We figured it would be fun!

If you’ve enjoyed reading this then please have a look at our other blog posts here.