No Fixed Abode: Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Mechanics

Sat 09 Apr 2016 - Motorbike tour day 5, Lai Chau to Sapa

This morning we both awoke with dodgy tummies - possible down to last night’s chips - however the hotel redeemed itself with a great breakfast: cakes, milk, yoghurt, toast. Just what we needed.

Still feeling delicate we boarded the bikes and set off on the short journey to Sapa over Vietnam’s highest mountain pass. Last night’s rain had cooled the air so it was jackets on from the start and as we started to climb we could see another side effect: water flowing down the concrete roadside gullies. Not wishing to miss this bonanza the locals were out in force washing everything in sight: clothes, bikes, crops, themselves. Even the terraced fields had benefited and we stopped to watch a hill farmer ploughing the, now soft, soil with his buffalo.

As we wound higher and higher up the pass we stopped at some fabulous viewpoints. If only it wasn’t so hazy it would’ve been stunning. At one spot we loitered for ages admiring the vast terraced hillsides and watching a particularly high peak coming in and out of the clouds, waiting for the best photo.

At the very top of the mist shrouded pass, some 2000m high, we stopped at the three ragtag plastic tents for some tea, one of which was home to another 12 yr old business prodigy. With her electric smile and chatty personality she had several oriental tourists sitting around her small bbq eating her eggs and then pounced on Glenn as he tried on a tribal hat - how could he resist. It seems such a waste that these confident youngsters will probably be married at 14 and popping out children in a wooden shack a year later.

So far, apart from the overtaking lorries with their blaring horns, the road had been very scenic and quite quiet. Now, however, we were on the Sapa side, which meant one thing - tourists. Within a few hundred metres there was an encampment of stalls selling all sorts of pseudo tribal wear. A little further down was a waterfall at the base of which was an impromptu market encroaching on the road and small girls wandering around with babies tied to their backs pestering people to buy their woven bracelets and lorries blasting their horns to get through the throngs. Oh, this was not for us.

Sapa is a famous mountain town loved by the French colonists of old, which we had visualised as having a quaint alpine charm. But no, it is an unashamedly tourist destination with hotels, shops, restaurants, tour companies - almost like a mini Hoi An. Flower told us it is equally popular with the Vietnamese and fills up at weekends with mass escapees from Hanoi.

As part of our tour we were scheduled to visit three minority villages in the valley below so we set off down the mountain road after paying the admission fee. Flower told us the fee is taken by the government but we’re unsure what they do with it - the road is in a terrible state so it clearly isn’t used to repair that. After bumping and sliding our way down we crossed a rickety suspension bridge and pulled up at a cafe for something to eat where we were immediately beset by children selling purses and bracelets. With our tummies still not right we ate a bland meal whilst playing with the owner’s toddler then went for a wander, leaving the boys watching the bikes. Wishing to escape both the tourist throng and the hawkers we found a little path alongside the river and found some rocks on which to sun ourselves. Seeing three young girls playing on a bamboo raft a little way downstream we went to take a look and they beckoned us over to join them but the river was, regretfully, too deep for us to cross.

Back with the boys we waved goodbye to the toddler and boarded the bikes to recommence our tour. Driving down another bumpy lane we past all sorts of ‘craft’ stalls and hosts of Westerns on walking groups with their local guides - one, no doubt, the consequence of the other. Not wishing to stop we started climbing out of the valley up a particularly steep hill. At the top Flower pulled over, asked Glenn to jump off then set off jogging down the hill calling over his shoulder that Jin was having trouble. Glenn stood around taking photos for a while before Flower returned on Jin’s bike with Jin and Yvonne trudging up on foot behind. Once reunited Yvonne explained that Jin had stalled the bike on a sharp corner and they’d fallen over (luckily they were able to get the legs down before the bike fell). Then she’d had to get off and push it uphill!

After lots of shenanigans trying to get Jins bike started then a long break to admire the view and let Jin calm down, Flower asked if wanted to see another village, which we declined, so we headed to our hotel, which turned out to be cracker with great views of the mountain.

Still not feeling right we both had a sleep and agreed we should take up the invitation to have dinner with a friend of Jin. Huong turned out to be a real character who spoke good english with an odd caribbean like accent. He runs an organic shop/cafe in a little shack off a backstreet and as soon as we arrived he rushed around making us tea, chatting and dashing off to his friends to get some food, all the while serving customers. When the food arrived he placed a rickety standalone fence in front of the entrance to indicate the shop was closed then finally sat down with us at a solid wooden picnic bench at the back. Flower and Jin laid the food out but were soon castigated in Vietnamese as Huong moved it all aside and produced a sort of table cloth. Yvonne’s heart jumped a beat.

We were soon tucking into some delicious food and discussing the organic food business, which was really a way of life rather a means to make money, listening to the frantic squeals of a pig being slaughtered next door. Huong lived in a small shed below his shop but seemed really happy. When the meal was finished Huong produced some bananas then we said our goodbyes and promised to re-visit him when we return to Sapa the day after tomorrow - his yoghurt with honey had caught our eye.