Arriving in sub zero conditions at Lao Cai train station early in the morning, after only four hours of sleep on board the eight-hour night train from Hanoi, was a rude awakening. Staggering out of the station, I was caught off guard: “You go Sa Pa – very cheap price,” was the tactic employed by a barrage of minivan scouts, all eagle-eyed and sharp-tongued, intent on luring a weakened prey to their vehicles.
Unprepared was I, the savvy bargainer, for the onslaught that ensued.
Haggling, Vietnamese Style
Their prices - commencing at four hundred thousand dong (AU$20) - awoke me completely. After gaining control over the remainder of my senses not yet frozen by the cold night air, I initiated haggling for a price I'd learned to be reasonable for the one-and-a-half-hour journey. “My friend in Hanoi said it shouldn’t cost more than one hundred thousand dong,” I protested, when the price didn't drop below two hundred thousand.
“No mista, you frien’ wong. It berry far fom herr,” was the retort that adrenalised my agitation.
After an exhausting period of negotiation, I eventually found a driver willing to accept the price I'd offered. Much to my dismay, I later learned that the trip shouldn’t have cost more than thirty thousand. Waiting an hour for our 'imminent departure’ following the driver's “we only waait fi’e minit for annuda fi’e people den we go” served only to add bitter fuel to the aggravated fire burning within.
This was my initiation to the deceitful nature of certain businesspeople in Vietnam.
What Rice Fields?
Driving towards Sa pa should have provided a glimpse of a town on the side of a mountain, surrounded by the eternal ripple of rice fields cascading to the valley floor, epitomising the beauty of the northern province. Rather, what I saw was a canvas of fog that enveloped the landscape - including the road ahead. The challenge of finding a guesthouse in which to breathe life back into my frozen, weary soul proved to be equally as disappointing. The white mist that had cloaked the landscape had weaved its way through the streets, wrapping itself around everything capable of inducing happiness. Obtaining a visual for more than five meters ahead was impossible. Slightly disconcerted, I eagerly queried a passerby, “Is this fog likely to shift by ten-am?”
He jeered and replied in a tone of cynicism, “Sure, if you’re here at ten-am on the first of April!”
Natural Beauty Beneath the Fog
Determined not to miss out on experiencing the adventures intrinsic to the region - exploring rice fields worked daily by villagers in pointy hats, observing the customs of the H’mong and trekking through nature, I walked away from town in search of action, in no particular direction. Moments later, I was moving downhill, to a point where the landscape transpired through the mist: the heavy white atmosphere rose heavenward and became a blanket above.
I slid down paths only frequented by wild pigs and farmers, the latter sensible enough to don appropriate attire. Propelled by a stubborn sense of determination, I continued, unwilling to yield to the mud that now covered the entirety of my lower limbs. At the valley's basin, I stepped onto a postcard. Encircled completely by the green slopes of the mountains, the turn of my head from side to side created a breathtaking panorama. Symmetrical ridges had been carved out of the mountains' rims, now joined by the edges of the shifting fog. Sliding to the valley floor like a fool had yielded a fine travel reward. Despite the mud that now stained my clothing variegations of brown, I'd personally witnessed the natural beauty for which Vietnam's mountainous north is so famous. The return uphill was also breathtaking, in a different way.
Local Encounters
Visiting Sa Pa's local markets curbed my desire to venture further out of town in search of ethnic H'mong encounters. I’d conjured a fanciful vision of tribal women donning vivid garb, transporting children in baskets - swinging from their backs - while performing activities of daily routine. Unfortunately, the dream was dashed in town: moving an eye within inches of a colourful garment or knickknack on a market table resulted in unabating hassle from H'mong women.
Sadly, tourism has stamped an ugly trademark on Sa Pa, somewhat compromising the integrity of the ancient people who live here. Although a trip on the back of a motorcycle to one of the villages may have provided an alternative impression, the risk of acquiring pneumonia from the wind-chill was not worth the illusion of adventure involved.
Memoirs of the Mountainous Town
Although I'd initially deemed my decision to venture into Vietnam’s northern provinces erroneous, the enigmatic nature of Sa Pa's surrounding mountainscape altered my perspective. Despite a frustrating start, the trip to the Northern Vietnamese town was worthwhile, for the scenery alone. Shrouded in a haze of white, there was enough intrigue to pique my curiosity. Although not culturally enriching, it will - if nothing else - deliver visually stimulating panoramas if you decide to visit.
