Tuesday 25th March 2003

It has been a long day, starting with a doped up Aussie girl trying to get into our hotel room at 1.30am. We had to get up at 4.45am to catch our plane to Hanoi, so were not amused.

The road into Hanoi mirrors the many documentaries of flat plains and vivid green paddy fields, dotted with villagers weeding and irrigating the seedlings with unhurried movements.

Hanoi appeared dusty and somewhat rustic, but it is impossible to capture the chaotic disorder on the roads and footpaths. The motorbike is king, unless a bus happens along. We tried to work out the rules of the road with help from some friendly locals. If you saunter nonchalantly across the road, everyone steers around you, unless its a bus, when you run like hell. But to cap it all, outside our hotel, two boys were playing badminton in the middle of the street with the traffic flying past them.
The Old Quarter, Hanoi
We were very careful to avoid getting caught in any scams, but these little oriental fellows were always just one step ahead. We went religiously to the airport taxi stand and were directed to the airport bus. I showed them the name and address of the hotel we wanted to go to. We were told they would take us straight to our hotel. They did the same for everyone else, so we were reassured.

Sure enough, they took us to the Classic Street Hotel. I checked the name outside before going in.

After jettisoning our gear, we took a stroll to Hoan Kiem Lake, but got hopelessly lost. I do make mistakes with maps sometimes, but not as completely as this. Eventually, we found the picturesque lake and walked around it, pestered by swarms of postcard sellers and other hawkers. They are very, very persistent, but always charming and never aggressive. The Vietnamese rely on guilt a lot more than the Thais.
Hoan Kiem Lak, Hanoi   Antique Vietnamese furniture
We learnt very quickly to ignore them and not smile too easily; otherwise they stick like the proverbial to fur.

We found some lovely embroidered pictures and bought some, then headed back to our hotel. We got even more lost this time. We found two Classic hotels, one where it was supposed to be, but the street did not look the same, neither did the hotel. I then looked at the card the receptionist gave me and found our hotel was called something else and was somewhere completely different.

The crafty buggers had stuck the name of the hotel we wanted on the door glass before we arrived. It took some finding again and only with the help of the receptionist at the Classic Street Hotel we were supposed to be at (also known as Pho Co Hotel) in 41, Hang Be. He told us he was always sending taxis to collect tourists from the other hotel. One factor to bear in mind is that many hotels have a Vietnamese name and a European name, often a translation of the former.

Had a fabulous meal at La Brique, a Viet/French restaurant. We had fish done in a banana leaf and another fish dish called Cha Ca done over a brazier. The waitress cooked part of the meal at the table over the brazier and returned as we finished one portion to cook up another. Out of this world for less than £7 for both of us.

We are having an easy day tomorrow, possibly visiting Uncle Ho's tomb and some temples and museums. Tomorrow night we catch a sleeper train to Sa Pa up in the hills. Maximum height 1,600 metres. We will visit several hill tribes and do some walking.

Wednesday

Sleep finally caught up with us yesterday. We did not wake up until just before 11am. Too late to visit Uncle Ho's tomb, so we visited Van Mieu, the Temple of Literature instead.

Van Mieu houses three complexes which lead one to another. The last, Quoc Tu Giam was established in 1070 AD as a Confucian university to teach the children of magistrates, aristocrats and the finest pupils of the common people. Stone stele mounted on stone tortoises celebrate the students who managed to pass the entrance exams to the Confucian magistrates class. Most years only two or three managed to pass. These stele are set around a square surrounding a rectangular pool. Hoan Kiem Lake in Hanoi is reputed to have giant tortoises which can weigh over 200 kilos.
  Entrance to Van Mieu Doctors stele    Temple laquerwork
In the second complex, we listened to a concert of indigenous Vietnamese instruments played by ladies in traditional costume. We met four Vietnamese students there who were so embarrassed by the "hammy marketing" they wanted to present a different face of Vietnam and we had a really interesting chat with them for 45 minutes. It made a change to be able to talk to locals who don't want to sell you something.
  Traditional musicians   Temple drum   With students at Quoc Tu Giam
We wandered back through the Old Quarter past street vendors of all kinds, from pedicurists to nit-pickers plying their trade on the pavement. The nit pickers always seem to be busy.

Apparently, I have the filthiest shoes in Hanoi. I know, because I've been told by a thousand shoeshine boys. One even told me I would be thrown out of the Moca Cafe if I went in with shoes that dirty, so I didn't go there.

We had another gorgeous meal at La Brique and then prepared to go to Sa Pa. A minibus took us to Hanoi station and we followed our guide to the train. I found I was going to be sharing a sleeping compartment with three females, Louise and two English girls, Sue and Heidi. I could have protested, “But we’re English, we don’t do this sort of thing,” but my Vietnamese being non-existent, I kept a stiff upper lip and tried not to look too pleased.

Thursday

The journey was far more comfortable than the London to Glasgow sleeper, but it was still hard to get any sleep. The door would not lock and so the guards periodically checked the cabin for illegal travellers, disturbing us in the process. Nine hours later we arrived at Lai Cau, on the Vietnam-China border. A grey dawn and low cloud greeted us, with water running off the steaming mountains around.

Another minibus took 90 minutes to slowly grind its way along a road under construction all the way to Sa Pa, passing road gangs breaking rocks with sledgehammers and school kids walking to school.

At the hotel we met our guide Hai and had a quick breakfast before hitting the sack for two hours. The electricity went out and so did I.

At 11.30am, we met up with Hai and walked down through the local food market to the Camellia Restaurant for lunch. The market had a mixture of Vietnamese, Hmong and other tribes-people selling everything from pigs ears to some kind of Asian Viagra.
Asian viagra et al.   Sa Pa market
The food in the Camellia was wonderful. We had several dishes brought out in succession, all very tasty and wholesome. Then we had to walk. From the very beginning, the scenery was spectacular, narrow peaks, the patterning of rice terraces and the very striking Black Hmong people.
Sa Pa Rice terraces      
Most are barely four foot tall and wear traditional woven hemp clothes dyed in indigo, which they grow and ferment themselves. They are unable to fix the dye, so it comes off on their hands. Every time they wash their clothes (about once every 2 months) they have to re-dye them. The girls and ladies wear cloth bindings around their calves to stop the calf muscles growing too big.
Black Hmong schoolboys  B H House  BH woman twisting hemp
The day had changed from steamy and misty in the morning to bright sunshine. Perfect for seeing Mt Fansipan, Indo-China's highest mountain, but a bit hot for walking. We crossed a number of paddy fields and rested for a while by waterfalls. We then visited a couple of Hmong houses and saw how they lived and organised themselves domestically. They use two kitchens, one to prepare their own food and another to cook the pigs’ food. There were a couple of ingenious systems for grinding corn. One used water power; the other used a gyroscopic technique. They are reluctant to be photographed, but some don't mind if you cross their palms with dongs or presents.
Hydraulic corn grinder   Sue doing it the hard way.


It was a long hot stroll back up to town and we were very thankful to sit on the terrace of the Mountain View hotel and drink Tiger beer as the sun lowered itself, silhouetting the mountains. The shower was hot and it felt great to wash off all that sweat.
Mountain view   Mt Fansipan   French colonial mansion


We all met up again and had dinner in the Mimosa restaurant. Again delicious and loads of courses, with fish, buffalo, veggies, rice and chicken, followed by fruit salad including dragon fruit.

We have a long trek tomorrow to visit two other tribes, better get some sleep.
Dusk, Sa Pa

Friday

We slept like babies last night, until the workmen on the construction nearby started up at 6.30am. After breakfast, we all met up again and hiked down a track for a couple of kilometres before turning off downhill on a footpath passing large numbers of Black Hmong, Red Dzao and Red Dzay women going to the market in Sa Pa.
Black Hmong women Intricate patterning BH schoolroom
The path wound past several Hmong houses before reaching the rice terraces and then the paddy fields of the valley floor.

It was a beautiful walk and we had plenty of company along the way. Those Black Hmong ladies do not give up easily, pushing their indigo clothes, jews harps in tiny embroidered tubes, hats, silver bangles and earrings. A firm refusal should work with most, but they have lots of other tactics, including unabashed flirting; a bit disconcerting when it comes from an 80 year old with only two fangs.
BH ploughboy  BH house and suspension bridge Paddyfield in the clouds
We visited three villages, including one where a Red Dzay woman was making and drying incense sticks. Pigs, buffalos, dogs, chickens and ducks watched us go by with little interest and no anxiety. I was expecting snarling dogs, but they can rarely be bothered to pay any attention to the tall strangers ambling past them.
Making incense Water buffalo Pot bellied pigs
The people here seem contented and all the various tribes appear to get on well with each other.

We stopped for lunch at a Dzay house and had omelette and fruit. There was another concerted effort by more passing Hmong ladies to part us from our dongs and dollars, but we resisted all temptation and even attempts at seduction. I'm not sure if one lady was proposing marriage, but she certainly tried flattery, telling me I was "young man." Well, that would have been true a couple of years ago.
Hai cooking lunch Sue on bamboo bridge The waterfall
At the end of the walk, as we rested by a river to await the jeep, another group of Hmong joined us. One of the girls spoke fluent English and chatted with us for half an hour. Her name was Lily and she looked eight years old, but was actually thirteen. She had picked up English from speaking to tourists. As usual she asked my age and lots of other personal details, but refused to believe me. She was certain I was at least ten years younger. To my relief, she also reckoned she did not want to get married. I could tell she was very bright. She was closer in guessing Louise’s age and hasn’t been forgiven since, being referred to as “that little madam.”
Lily     Testing a new raft  The walks end.
The jeep ride was picturesque. The scenery majestic and supplemented by steep drops and women returning to their villages, dressed in an array of costumes and colours.

Back in Sa Pa, the market was still in full flow and the colour scheme was a riot.
Red Dzao women  More minorities in Sa Pa market
We thought we ate at the Mimosa last night, but actually we ate at the Friendly Cafe. The Mimosa is tucked away to one side.

We had a beer with a group of girls from our tour group on the Mountain View terrace, overlooking the mountains and valley before going for a walk through the market and then down the hill a bit.

Louise and I had dinner at the Camellia Restaurant again. It is halfway down the market which is almost completely unlit apart from dozens of stallholders eating in the centre.

The meal was delicious again. Grilled chicken, sweet and sour wild boar (tasty and tough) and fish. With drinks, about £6.00 for both of us and that is an expensive place for Sa Pa.

We may hike up a mountain to the radio tower tomorrow morning, depending on whether there is fog to obscure the views. Louise reckons she is staying in bed. We get the night train back to Hanoi tomorrow night, arriving on Sunday morning.

Saturday

The day was quite restful. Just after we left the room for breakfast, an almighty thunderstorm broke out. It was quite spectacular, looking over the cloud base, but it meant our climb up to the radio tower was off, at least for now.

Instead, we spent some time in the market where almost everything is for sale. We saw live frogs, eels, and carp swimming in tubs, skinned and sliced dog and were even offered opium and marijuana by a Hmong girl. Hai reckoned it would be inferior or a substitute like hemp, but I think he is probably encouraged to say that by the tourism ministry.
Ducks and hens         Carp and dog meat
The storm only lasted an hour and we walked about some more, admiring the hill-tribes women in their finest costumes.

After lunch (at the Camellia again) I met up with Hai and we went up the hill to the radio tower. Along the way, we found several gardens and a native stilt hut near the top which housed an ethnographic museum of sorts.
Above Sa Pa  Hai above Sa Pa  Sa Pa town
The views from the top were wonderful and worth the hike.
Back in town, we joined Sue and Heidi on the terrace of the Mountain View for tea. Its a good spot to sit, even on a cloudy day.
Tea on the Mountain View terrace
Finally, it was time to go. A crowd of Hmong girls came over to say goodbye, very cheerfully. Must have been glad to see the back of such a bunch of tight-arses.

Almost the entire road to Lao Cai is under construction or resurfacing and it was pretty bumpy and slow, passing road gangs breaking rocks, and other tasks, including one which took a few minutes to figure out. Old ladies on bicycles were towing big clumps of bamboo behind them. Mechanised road sweepers had arrived in Vietnam.

As we crossed the bridge into Lao Cai, we could see China just a couple of hundred metres to our left. It looks more affluent for now.

The train journey was actually quite pleasant. This time we were able to lock the door and doze more easily.

Sunday

Back in Hanoi station at 4.30am a taxi tout tried for 200,000 dong (approx eight pounds). We all spontaneously laughed out loud and he retreated without trying again.

Returning to the Tamarind Cafe, we were able to chill out until the staff started work and made us some breakfast.

We finished breakfast in good time to dump our bags in our hotel and visit Uncle Ho's mausoleum, his offices and his house on stilts in rather picturesque gardens. The queues are huge, but you are herded through pretty quickly. If you step out of line, you can expect to be prodded back. It is clear the Vietnamese hold him in great affection and often visit his resting place on weekends.
Uncle Ho's mausoleum  Colonial governer's residence  Ho's stilt house
We had lunch at the Cyclo cafe, where you sit at table and chairs made from old cyclos (a kind of trishaw). It is a great looking place, but the food is expensive and awful, so we had another lunch at the Kangaroo Bar, which was also lousy this time.

We rested for the afternoon and had another great meal at La Brique. We actually walked for miles looking at various eateries, but none came close for quality or atmosphere. No wonder a local clique of French ex-pats come every day. Actually, I think one of them owns the place.

Tomorrow morning we are heading off to Halong Bay for three days, touring the bay, islands and caves before staying overnight on a boat. The next day, we do some trekking through a rain forest before having lunch at a village.

We got to bed early as we had a fairly early start.

Monday

We got to Handspan's travel office at 7.45am with a little guidance from a lady water seller. Luckily we needed some bottled water and so we were all happy.

We had a very different group this time, two Australians, four Swedes, a Dane and two Quebequoise women. The route to Halong Bay is a good one and we drove over the Red River and joined the motorway passing mopeds with pigs on the back, buffalo carts doing 2 miles per hour and the odd biker riding against the flow of traffic.

Our guide was a 25 year old woman called Trunh. At the start of the journey we had a startlingly frank account of her family's journey over the last 30 years or so. Her mother had three daughters and as a result her mother-in-law, with whom they were expected to live, took offence. She was expected to produce a boy. The Vietnamese government was not pleased as she had exceeded her quota of children and she was fined a sack of rice. Two children are the quota allowed. The poorer minority tribes are fined a smaller sack as they have less.

After Trunh's father died, her grandmother turned them all out of the house. The police helped them find new accommodation. Trunh admitted she always disliked her grandmother, but twice a year has to see her and make offerings to her. As the youngest daughter, she is expected to look after her, but would rather not.

She is expected to marry next year and her boyfriend's parents expect her to give up her job to look after them and her husband to be. She is not keen on that option either. Some younger Vietnamese are really torn between tradition and going their own way.

We stopped off at 10.30am to look at some factory produced goods and use their European style loos. Many of the goods were actually very good, but three times the price in Hanoi.

At Halong City, we were dropped off for lunch at a small restaurant and had an excellent meal before boarding a kind of motorised junk for the trip to the bay. By the way, Halong City is OK, a bit like a down-market Brighton.

If you can imagine a huge bay with over three thousand islands in it, all standing upright in the water, I still don't think you will get the picture. Sometimes you see layer after layer of mountainous islands going back miles beyond your vision. Simply amazing. I believe this range of mountains begins in Guilin in China, but is most spectacular here.

The weather was warm, but a little misty, giving a dramatic Scottish feel to the atmosphere. You kept wondering where those scurvy Campbells were hiding.
Fishing skiffs   Floating fishing hamlet
We stopped off at a series of three enormous caves totalling 10,000 sq metres. The Vietcong used them to hide from American bombers and earlier Vietnamese generals have used them in old battles with the Mongols and Chinese. Like everywhere else, the Vietnamese like to anthropomorphise the structures in the caves. There is a lion climbing on the back of a buffalo (after eating its missing head) and a phallus which someone has painted red just in case you hadn't noticed it. The guide described it as a fertility symbol with obvious delight.
Cave 3 Trunh and the infamous erection  View from the cave
After cruising between these islands we anchored up and Trunh suggested we might like a swim. Bjorn, one of the Swedes jumped straight in and reckoned it was warm enough. I followed soon after and it was fine. I snorkelled over to the shore about 100 metres away, but found it covered in sharp wild oysters and was sheer to the bottom, so turned around and swam back to the boat.
Swimming 
The first 70 metres was fine, but the nearer the boat I got, I found I was making less progress. I checked my position a couple of times and found I was going nowhere. As soon as I stopped swimming, I went back 20 metres in seconds. I realised I was in a strong tidal rip and had to work my way closer to the boat before making a concerted effort to get around it to the ladder. It took 10 minutes of steady swimming before I was within 10 metres and then went flat out, managing to get to the ladder before becoming completely exhausted. I'll have to be more careful next time.

We cruised on, this time passing floating fishing villages with kids playing around in coracles and floating huts with fish-farms around them. Next came oyster farms with necklaces of floats fanning out from them, each suspending a rope with the oysters attached to them.

Finally we anchored in a ring of islands, not quite a cove or a bay. Once the engines died down, we were surrounded by birdsong. Kites circled overhead and we were overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the place.

Night came and the shadows of a thousand peaks cascaded before our eyes.
Evening, Halong Bay
We had dinner on board and soon after headed for our bunks. Once we had lights out, the silence was total. The air was warm and we left a window and curtain open to view the cliffs. Before long, the darkness was complete and we slept like innocents.

Tuesday

In the early morning we woke to the sight of grey cliffs and more birdsong.

After a strange breakfast of Vietnamese muesli covered in yoghurt, we moved off past another floating village with its own floating school to Cat Ba National Park. After a short trek through some wild scenery and then farmland, we came to the village of Viet Hai (Vietnamese Ocean). Very pretty with thatched huts, with wattle and daub walls interspersed with some concrete houses.
Viet Hai trail Jackfruit tree  Chinese farm truck
We had a snack under a thatched area and then started another trek to the rain forest. After a 15-20 minutes walk we came to the base of a steep hill. Louise and the two middle-aged Aussies sensibly turned back and the rest of us pressed on upwards. The two ladies from Quebec lasted a few minutes into the climb before turning back too. I should have done too, but I wasn't born with much sense and I wasn't going to chicken out in front of the other ladies.

Six of us, including Mette, the Danish woman and the four Swedes kept going after the guide. I really can't remember doing anything this hard in the last 10 years, maybe more. This was perpendicular scrambling with just a couple of two minute stops for water.

The heat was unbearable, with a full sun heating up the ground and evaporating the water from it giving a humidity around 100%. The strain on my thighs was awful. The guide went on relentlessly and we kept on after him without any more breaks. I believe the height was 320 metres, and we took 50 minutes to get up there. Some areas were wet and very slippery, so we had to concentrate on every footfall. The rocks were sharp and would do a lot of damage if you fell.

The view on top was truly amazing. We had a 360 degree panorama of Halong Bay, the village and other peaks stretching onwards forever. One of the Swedes is a policewoman and runs every day, but her trousers were completely soaked in sweat. All of us were exhausted and couldn't believe we had made it up there and so quickly. Coming down was not a piece of cake, but it felt easy by comparison.
Above Viet Hai   Our guide  The conquerors
The walk back was wonderful. Hundreds of multicoloured butterflies of all shapes and sizes floated with slow wing-beats over us, insects played a concerto of strange noises reminiscent of buzzing, sawing and electric generators. Electric blue, red and green dragonflies flew in dozens and the scent of flowers and herbs haunt your senses for hours and days after.

We had lunch at the village and I was treated to a village shower; a bucket of cold water poured over me, fantastic! The pet dogs in the village have a good life until they get old, when they are eaten, usually the day before the lunar month ends, to bring luck.
   View from the top            Impromptu shower Even better
We hiked back to the boat and enjoyed watching a water buffalo enthusiastically wallowing in a mud hole. Some of us would have joined him, it was so hot.
Back on board we moved off for ten minutes before dropping anchor and having another swim. This time we had no currents to worry about and it felt good.

After the swim, we cruised slowly to Cat Ba Harbour, sunbathing on the top deck.

There was a festival in Cat Ba and it was quite crowded, but not unbearably so.
Once in our hotel, Louise and I had a shower and rested as it was still very hot and humid outside.

At 6.30pm, we went out for a stroll and it was delightfully warm with a mild breeze.
The whole town was lit up with Christmas style lights and a string of fish restaurants lined the harbour promenade.

We had dinner at the hotel. It tasted fine, but with Vietnamese portions, so we were still hungry. Might have another stab at getting fed properly before retiring.

Wednesday
Cat Ba Harbour is not a quiet place. Mopeds toot their horns most of the night it seems. Still, we had enough sleep to get by. After breakfast, we drove back to the other harbour and rejoined our boat for a leisurely cruise around the islands and another swim.
Harbourside market   Cat Ba Harbour

Floating village school   Floating village

   Halong Bay views     Tourist junks 
For the first time, I saw a flock of seabirds and two night herons. I also saw two of the kites take fish off the surface like ospreys.

We finally got back to Halong City and lunched in the Royal Restaurant, complete with Vietnamese classical live music. A bit posh for this bunch of smelly white devils.

Hanoi was hot and very humid and even more chaotic.
We had dinner in La Brique again, excellent too. To make up for the lack of food on our trip, we ordered three courses between us and nearly finished them.

Thursday

Another early start, leaving Hanoi at 7.30am for Mai Chau in the North West highlands.
Roadside market en route and butchers stall
Our sole companion on this trip was Pasha from the Cook Islands. She was a great travel companion and touring South-East Asia by herself, interspersed with work as an environmental representative for her government.

We were warned that the road was being blasted to widen it and were trying to get through before 11am, but were held up by a lorry loading stones on a mountain pass. We missed getting through by 10 minutes and had to wait for 2 hours and 50 minutes before the road was cleared.

The experience was not as bad as waiting for a bus in London. Everyone piled out of their transport and started chatting. Local people brought sugar cane and boiled eggs for sale and did a good trade. I wandered around some tracks as usual and stumbled on two Swedish ladies casually having a pee. They were not in the least bothered and we had a long chat afterwards.

The husband of one of them joined us and he was for turning back, but his wife was adamant she was going on to their destination.

I then wandered over to some Viets, but few spoke much English. Our guide came over with a bag of sugar cane and we chewed and spat out the pulp, admiring the village in the valley below us.
  Waiting patiently  Road clearance
After going up to see the work going on, I returned and chatted to a German couple before we got the all clear at 2pm.

The road had been grim and was only just better further on, but we did make our destination half an hour later. Mai Chau is a quiet town in a valley, but nearby is a series of Thai villages. We were going to stay in a White Thai village. As we walked to the village from its outskirts, every house had a display of woven goods and basketry outside. Most houses have a loom under the houses, which are built on stilts.
Silks and a cock fight  Loom under stilt hut  Stilt huts
I think it is one of the most picturesque places I have ever visited. The pace of life is in keeping with the rhythm of nature and the setting is idyllic, with paddy fields surrounded by serried ranks of mountains.

We were also amazed to find our erstwhile Swedish and German companions there as well. The Swedes were just visiting for the day, but the German couple, Marcus and Carmen, were sharing sleeping accommodation in the Thai house with us. This is no place for the prudish. They joined us when we had a walk through the villages later that afternoon and evening.
Our sleeping quarters  And the views
So many sights and scenes, it was impossible to know where to look next. We were greeted by excited children en route and invited to take tea by a delightful Thai woman. The sun was setting as we finished the walk and still buffaloes were being herded and the workers weeding in the rice paddies.
Thai children Taking tea 

  Views along the walk
Dinner was held under the house, looking out over the fields and mountains. As night fell, fireflies danced around us and some landed by the table, their triangles of green light throbbing like something from a Sci-fi film.

The old grandfather came over and poured rice wine for us. The ladies all had one, but he wasn't happy until Marcus and I had finished off the bottle with him. We'd already had two Tiger beers before that.

The huts are quite comfortable. Air-conditioning was supplied by two ceiling fans and we all slept in one hut under beautifully embroidered mosquito nets.
The Thai hut had large floor beams with long strips of bamboo covering the gaps. It allowed the air to circulate, but also had an unfortunate consequence. Whenever someone turned over on their mattress, someone else shot up in the air a couple of inches. Despite that, we both slept really well, but on reflection, we were probably suffering from concussion, or more likely in my case, alcohol.

Friday

I came down at dawn and sat under the hut, looking over a paradise; soft colours reminiscent of A.E Houseman's "blue remembered hills." The villagers were already busy in the fields and added the final perfect touch to this timeless scene.

Marcus and Carmen went on to Sa Pa after breakfast, while we had a canoe trip to another Thai village. It took half an hour and a succession of four different boatmen to get the engine started, but we are getting used to things like that and it is too hot to get bothered. All this while, a woman squatted nearby doing her washing with a packet of OMO and looking slightly bemused.

The river trip was lovely, despite the boatman hitting one of the only rocks in the river. The boat did not sink, so we landed as planned on a white sandy beach and walked up to the village.
The river trip   Sandy river beach The boat and crew
This one was in a clearing in the mountainside. No paddy fields here. The men go hunting and fishing, I’m not sure what the women did. We visited the school and had tea with the two teachers, husband and wife. A group of curious schoolchildren came to watch us, before being summoned back to class by a prefect banging the school gong; a piece of shrapnel from an American bomb. Our teachers would love school kids like theirs.
Throw net maker      Village noticeboard 

  Curious schoolboys     The school-marm    Shrapnel gong
After visiting the classes, we trekked back on a path above the river to our start point and got a lift back across the river to our minibus.
  The riverside walk        The hamlet at the river crossing
After another great meal at the stilt-house, the ladies of the house came to see us off. They had just washed their hair and it was loose. One of the girls had hair almost down to her ankles.

We thought we would be clever and leave later to miss the road block, but they must have guessed our strategy as the road was blocked until 2.45pm this time. Still, we only waited half an hour this time.

The road was bad, but the next road was even worse. It looked nicely tarmaced, but it was so wavy the minibus bounced along like a North Sea trawler for several hours through village after crowded village. Even the outskirts were busy, with buffalo and two wheeled improvisations all over the road.

We finally made the Thuy Anh hotel in Ninh Binh town at 6.30pm, somewhat startled to find a line of hotel staff waiting to greet us. I wondered if they had mistaken us for royalty, but with my dust-caked T-shirt, shorts and stinking sandals I think not.

A nice surprise was meeting Mette from the Halong Bay trip and her now recovered boyfriend in the hotel. He had been too ill to make the Halong Bay trip with us. We had a long chat before they left to catch a train further south. Mette later e-mailed us to say they had enjoyed the trip in the South, but the highlight of the month was the time they spent in North Vietnam.

Dinner was very nice and plentiful. Draught Tiger beer for a dollar a half litre too, not bad.

I remembered to take my Malarone malaria tablet this time. I got bitten a few times recently after forgetting to use my mosquito repellent, a Deet free herbal concoction called Crocodile. It worked well against the mozzies, smells very pleasant and makes a good moisturizer too.

We are both well and getting used to the conditions. Another month and I think we will feel completely at home.

Saturday

Vietnam may not have a huge bird population, but it still has a deafening dawn chorus. If you get a room in a hotel over a road, you don't need an alarm call, as every truck, moped and cyclo will serenade you with air horns, bells and other sleep-busting sound systems.

We had breakfast at 7.30am and drove for half an hour to Tam Coc. Its a dusty, nondescript kind of a place, surrounded by lovely paddy fields and rocky outcrops. We got into a row boat crewed by a mother and daughter team. The 75 year old mother took the oars and her daughter helped out some of the time with the pole.
Cemetery in paddy field  Phong and Pasha in punts
There are a variety of rowing styles, all of them facing forward. The most stylish we saw was a young woman leaning back and rowing with her feet like a cycle.

Passing through rice fields, graveyards and the tall limestone outcrops, we then passed through three caves in succession. The weather was misty and grey, with a soft, fine Irish drizzle. From the middle stretch, we saw several kingfishers of at least two types and flocks of domesticated duck, a pale sandy colour.

After the last cave, the river ends. Then the hard sell started. Boat ladies selling fruit and other goodies offer you everything you don't want. Then they ask if you want to buy a drink for your crew. Its an old ploy and they never drink it, just resell it back at half price.
   Our 75 year old boat-lady Ist and 2nd caves
Once we got shot of them, the daughter then opened up a metal box and offered us some hand stitched table cloths, T-shirts and other embroidery. I did buy a T-shirt for my son as almost everything else for sale here is a bit too girlie for him. I tried it on first for size (XXXL) and drew the comment of "Ah, beautiful boy" from the daughter. These ladies really have no scruples, but we had a good laugh about that.

After the boat trip, Phong took us to a nearby restaurant and ordered a feast. There were around 10 courses, including "rare goat," chicken noodles, sliced pork, steamed morning glory, baby aubergines and so on. It was all delicious and wholesome.

After a short wander about, we drove on to Hoa Lu to visit Vietnam's original capital, dating back over 1,000 years.
Entrance gates to Temple of Literature, Hoa Lu

   The King and his golden litter 
Two temples, covered in beautiful lacquer work still survive and sit surrounded by a defensive series of limestone outcrops. It is a lovely setting, but not practical enough for a capital, which is why it was relocated to Hanoi.

This is our last full night, so we are going to have a bit of an early night to make the most of tomorrow.

Sunday

Finally it is our last day in Vietnam. We have covered a fraction of the North with plenty more to see, but that will have to wait.

Today is dedicated to shopping and getting my shoes cleaned.
It is very easy to start thinking in terms of local prices and being shocked at the outrageous prices being asked for goods, but when you translate them into English money, it is usually embarrassingly cheap.

We had two breakfasts this morning. The hotel one was mainly bread and yet another egg, so we carried our gear over to the Tamarind café, a couple of streets away and they put them in storage for us.

The Tamarind is a first class vegetarian cafe/restaurant as good as any Western veggie establishment we know. We both had tofu and black mushroom miso soup noodles with coffee and star anise tea.

Then we set forth with fistfuls of dongs and dollars. We got some really nice locally made goods, but the highlight of the day was getting my shoes cleaned beside the waters of Hoan Kiem lake.

First we fixed a price of 10,000 dong, (38 pence) and two boys unlaced the shoes and got to work on them. I should explain that just about everywhere else in the world, once you agree a price, both sides stick to it, but not in Vietnam. The bargaining continued as the work progressed.

The two boys were joined by others offering advice and then to polish Louise's leather flip-flops. Soon a crowd of postcard, book and embroidery sellers joined the throng. By this time, my shoes were going to cost me 15,000 dong, about 60 pence, if they did a good job. They brushed furiously to make sure they got a result and did a fine job on a battered seven year old pair of Clarks casuals.

By this time, Louise had been induced into parting with even more cash. The older girls came along to help with negotiations and we finished up with a lot more than we intended, including a pirated copy of the book, "The girl in the picture."

We continued along the lake shore like a pair of pied pipers followed by a throng of hawkers convinced their luck was in. We had to hide our spoils in a rucksack to avoid looking like a pair of suckers ripe for plucking.

Subsequently, we loitered in La Brique having a leisurely meal of Cha Ca, artichoke tea and the gorgeous local Fanny ice-cream. Time to reflect on the highlights and lingering moments here in Vietnam.

We missed the Love market in Sa Pa. It was held every weekend to help bashful Hmong teenagers find partners, but due to the intrusive nature of tourists, has been moved elsewhere.

The SARS epidemic had hit Vietnam and we were amazed when Pasha received an e-mail from her employers instructing her to take an extra 7 days leave in New Zealand before returning to the Cook Islands as a quarantine precaution. I thought it a very sensible precaution and e-mailed my employers to ask if they would like to adopt the same line and send me to New Zealand for two weeks? I had my rods and would only be likely to infect a few million sheep fishing in Lake Taupo. They did not reply.

The North Vietnamese are supposed to be more reserved than their Southern counterparts, but that is not always a bad thing. The society is very tolerant and we never felt threatened or unsafe.

You can't help admiring their industriousness and toughness, and yet they always look immaculate. No one seems to be idle and you wonder when they sleep. Despite this, they always seem really cheerful. Being overweight is not a Vietnamese problem. We have not seen one Vietnamese who looked even slightly tubby.

The countryside is truly beautiful and varied and appears so timeless, especially where the ethnic minorities still follow a traditional way of life.

The pace of change will be rapid as the whole road infrastructure is, or has already been upgraded. Don't take too long to get here to see it.