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I was beat after boozing and eating it up at the Can Cau Market. Returning to Bac Ha, I was ready for a nap as we arrived at our hotel for the night, Toan Thang Hotel. All of the hotels in the area have basically the same set-up, a multi-functional lobby area that is used as a combination check-in, lobby, restaurant, bar, and basic hang-out area. This hotel was interesting, there was an "old" wing, complete with corrugated metal roof, and a brand new building with a faux Euro-Asian design attached to it.

In a way, this was a perfect example of what we saw in Bac Ha, a village in transition, growing quickly, a convergence of the old and new. You’d as soon see a sleek, modern mini-bus and motorbikes(with the requisite horn honking) going in one direction, and this going in the other.

Some of the streets were just dirt paths, but right outside the city, major work was taking place. The roads were being widened, and fresh asphalt was being laid.

But at the time, I had something else on my mind. Specifically, a nice leisurely nap. Unfortunately, the prospect of a visit to dreamland was to be put on hold. The Missus had caught Her third, or was it Her fourth wind, and was ready to go. I was still trying to summon up my second, or even hoping for my first wind, and perhaps some fumes. Off we went, trading my leisurely nap, for a not so leisurely walk. It’s not like you can get lost in Bac Ha, it seems that all roads end up in the same place. And it was an interesting seeing the "new" Bac Ha:

Right across the street with the "old".

Yes, folks, Bac Ha is going places….where she stops? Nobody knows.

After taking a short walk we somehow, unintentionally, ended up back at our hotel. Like I said, all roads in Bac Ha, lead to the same place. I decided to stop by the "lobby/restaurant/bar" to purchase some water, and have some tea. Here’s where I ran into(no pun intended) a bit of a gastro-intestinal "blip". I was sitting at one of the tables, drinking my bottled water, when the really nice Woman who ran the place decided to scurry to the back room and grab me a glass. The glass looked like there was some residue on it, and perhaps a good layer of some unknown detritus, which I tried to discreetly wipe off. But, I couldn’t insult her by not using the glass, so I poured water into it and had a sip. It definitely tasted a bit off…and one sip was all it took. For a few hours, my stomach made sounds like the HMS Titanic sinking into the Atlantic, I contributed to global warming in a very unpleasant manner, and there was a toilet paper shortage in room 301. Lucky for me, it was just a passing(again, no pun intended) thing. Furthermore, there was no way I was going to miss dinner! And so with the help of a few "pepto", and the stuff being sold from this pot:

I was fixed up in no time. The pot contained sugar cane simmering in ginger water. The ginger had me back in no time.

Yes, boys and girls, I hope you see the irony….I was cured by street food! By the time we met Thinh for dinner, I was ready to go…no, not there…I was ready to eat.

The restaurant selected was where we stopped for a break on our way to Can Cau Market the previous day. Like many of the places in Bac Ha, this was another Hotel/Restaurant. In this case, named Ngan Nga.

We took a table outside and were handed menus. Going down the page I read, "omelet, Pho, fried noodles, fried rice, french fries?" Say what! I didn’t make a miraculous recovery from death’s door to eat french fries! Thinh just laughed and said, "one minute, I’ll order the food." After a few minutes Thinh returned, and by that time, the Nuoc Mam Cham arrived, along with…….guess what? Salt&Pepper-Ground Chili(this one was really good)-Lime, of course.

The first dish to arrive was a plate of blanched than sauteed Chinese Broccoli(Gailan), which I was told was called Cải Làn (pretty close) in these parts. It really wasn’t anything we haven’t had before, except that this version used both soy sauce and fish sauce.

The next dish that arrived was a cold chicken dish. In this case the simmered chicken was chopped, and topped with thinly sliced kaffir lime leaves.

As I enjoy cold chicken dishes much more than the Missus, I was fine with this. The chicken was on the chewy side, as wild, roaming chicken should be. The flavor was 100% true chicken; the lime leaves added a nice citrus-sour flavor, and a dip in the chili-lime-salt concoction helped out as well.

A plate of simmered pork arrived next, mildly flavored, and leaner than what we had for lunch. The chopped pork was combined with a herb that had a basil-cilantro type flavor. Thinh wasn’t able to tell us what was used. The Missus, still recovering from the pork at lunch, passed on this one.

The next dish made the dinner a success. According to Beach, this is called Cha Com:

These are fried patties or fritters if you will, made with minced pork and green rice. Man, this was good! The pork added a nice richness as only pork can; the green rice added some crunch, along with a mild nutty sweetness. Oh man this was good.

The last item was steamed, vegetable spring rolls, which we found to be on the bland side. Still, this was a pretty good meal. Of course, we had started in on the Ruou Nga(Corn wine).

Which brings us on to the next part of the night. You know by now, that magical things happen when Ruou is in the picture. At the end of dinner, our driver Mr Thang made an appearance. Already hitting the Ruou with the other driver and guides(they all know each other), he kept apologizing. Of course, this meant another refill of Ruou! Soon enough, the other drivers and guides drifted to our table, as if some unseen signal was being sent. And the Ruou was flowing! As the sun set, our loud and raucous laughter started drawing the attention of the tourists having dinner in the restaurant. But none of them wanted to have a drink with the "crazy Asians". It didn’t help when Thinh actually lit a cup of Ruou with his lighter to show us "what it was made of". With tongues loosened by the corn wine(most of these guy weighed less than 50-55 kilos – it didn’t take much), we started getting the "real dirt" on these normally serious and stoic drivers. Thang, who was to married in a few weeks, met his wife to be when he almost ran her over. They got into an argument which continued when they later saw each other in Sapa later that day. A few days later, Thang saw her teaching a class at a school….and was smitten, I guess it was love at third sight. One of the guides, who was one of the larger Vietnamese guys I met at 75 kilos(guess my weight was a popular drinking game), was appropriately named the equivalent of "Hero" in Vietnamese, and enjoyed flexing his muscles, Hulk Hogan style.

It seems that drinking with a female was foreign to these guys; this manifested itself in some fairly strange and humorous ways. Several times, the Guys raised their hands and asked the Missus, "madam, may I go to the WC(water closet)?" Ruou fueled regression? And then came the high lite of the evening. One of the drivers told us he had three wives! You read that right; three wives! Thinh was beside himself, almost rolling on the ground. He’d known this driver for several years, and didn’t know the guy had three wives. And no, polygamy isn’t legal in Vietnam. Apparently, he has a bus route that takes him to some far flung villages, and so things just kinda happened(yeah right). All was well now, for they all knew about each other….they even get together and go out to dinner once in a while(I’d love to see that)! No wonder this guy was so skinny! Since this story couldn’t be topped, we decided to call it a night. It was fun seeing this bunch of guys hanging out, and acting, well…like any group of young men. Some things are universal. Our dinner, and at least 4 refills of Ruou ran 220,000 VND( a bit less than $14/US). We staggered our way back to the hotel, where we were greeted by the Owners and staff, who asked us to have dinner, and (of course) some Ruou with them. I went upstairs and shared the last of  the snake wine, and we had a few toasts before calling it a night.

It had been a full day……

And we needed to get up early in the morning!

When I left off, I mentioned sitting down with the Tour Director of the Mountain View Hotel, and putting in our requests for various tours. The Missus had given me a list of items, and I went through each, and ensured that all our requests were clarified. The Missus had wanted to do something called the Matra-Taphin "trek", which I didn’t really know anything about, and frankly didn’t pay much attention to….I just went ahead and paid for it. 15 minutes later, we met our guide, Mai, a friendly young lady of the Black H’mong group. Black H’mong women are easily recognized by their indigo dyed, hemp clothing. As we were walking to the Van that would be dropping us off, I was reminded that the hike would be about 15 kilometers or so. 15 kilometers! Yes, just what my sleep deprived mind and body needed, a "little" 15 kilometer hike……

We were dropped off about 8 miles outside of Sapa, walked down a short dirt road, and started on our way.

And I must say, the rice terraces lulled you into a kind of pastoral peacefulness.

I took my time, and snapped photos while the Missus’s grilled Mai, with all kinds of questions…"why do you where leggings?" "What happens if a Black H’mong marries a Red Dzao?" And on and on….Mai took it all in stride.

Growing rice in Sapa is not an easy task; there is only one crop a year, and a short window for planting. And this year’s window was extremely short. The winter had been cold, long, and dry, and many Water Buffalo, key partners in the tilling process had died, and so much of the planting was taking place without them.

The beautiful landscape belied the fine tightrope that the people who worked the land walked.

The harmony between man and beast was quite apparent, as the free roaming livestock paid us no heed.

And spring had brought on the birth of offspring of those that survived the winter.

Well, most of the livestock paid us no attention. This Water Buffalo seems to be a bit irritated at having his photo taken; as if to say "whatta you lookin’ at?"

As we approached the Black H’mong village of Matra, we saw more and more children. This kid was pretty talented.

He was bawling his head off, and tightrope walking on the dike at the same time!

These are the plants that yield the Indigo Dye that the Black H’mong use to color their clothing.

Hemp is the textile most used by the Black H’mong, many other types of cloth will not "hold" the indigo dye. The indigo plant is processed and made into a powder. It is then made into a liquid that will "hold" to the hemp, often using urine and rice wine, among other additives. The whole soaking process can take up to 2 months. A nice post can be found here.

As we approached the village of Matra, we started seeing many more children. The first thing I noticed, was in spite of the very rural conditions, many of the homes had satellite dishes……after all, you gotta have television, don’t you?

We were really enjoying our walk; learning a lot about life in these villages from Mai, when it happened…..The Attack of the Red Dzao.

Now, we’re not adverse to people trying to make a living, and frankly it comes along as part of the package anytime you travel, whether it’s Peru, Cambodia, Vietnam, you name it. But I don’t think I’ve ever felt more like I was being held hostage(well, perhaps other than having to attend a time-share presentation years ago), than I did on this stretch of trail on the way to Taphin. This gal would not take no for an answer, and even got a bit nasty at the end. "I walk all this way, with baby….you have to buy something! Have to!" And the tough thing was, she invited three of her other close friends.

At least after this experience, we knew what the standard script was. In order, this is how it went every time:

"What your name?"
"Good name, good name!"
"Where you from?"
"How long you in Sapa?"
"You buy from me ok?", followed by "Why you no want buy from me?","If you buy, you only buy from me. ""You have to buy from me." And so forth.

It seems like only the Young Dzao Women are this persistent; the Older Women are funny, on our way back to Sapa we picked up a group of them who looked like they needed a ride. They where having a heck of a time in the van. And though they tried to sell us stuff, they weren’t nearly as aggressive as the younger Red Dzao women. When I returned from vacation, I was reading one of Vietnam guides, which mentioned how "shy" Red Dzao women are…. Hmmm. Luckily, Red Dzao women are pretty easy to pick out by their bright red head-dress and their shaved eye brows. The also shave the front potion of their scalp.

This put Mai in a very tenable position, she could see that we were being aggressively accosted, and  we’d been stuck to for over 2 kilometers, with no sign of a let-up. The village of Taphin is also a Red Dzao village, and there was the potential of picking up even more folks trying to sell us stuff. On the other hand; though Mai told us that this isn’t a very popular hike, she does bring tourists this way, and needs to keep up a good relationship with everyone. Her solution soon became apparent, she took us off the regular trail, and we ended up skirting the valley. And we were thankful, not only for the chance to enjoy some peace, but for the views this afforded.

The area around the building you see in the background was where we were headed; Taphin.

Eventually, we came across a concrete "road" where we saw a few tourists on motorbikes, and entered into the village of Taphin. Don’t let the more modern looking path fool you; life here is still quite hard.

One of the concrete paths ended at this cave. The Missus read the sign in Chinese next to it, and told me it was the "Dragon Cave". According to Mai this large cave is where many of the villagers hid during the war. After a short rest to soak up the cool air, we decided to head on over to the lunch spot.

As we turned back and headed down another path, where we came across 2 girls trying to chase down some runaway goats. Their giggling was infectious. And if you enlarge the photo(click on it), you can get a peek at a man sitting on a water buffalo watching on in amusement.

We stopped at the end of the path for lunch. you could tell that this was the place by the motorbikes. And if that didn’t tell you that this was the place to stop, the Water Buffalo parking sure did.

At this point we sat, and Mai disappeared. Only to reappear about 10 minutes later with plates of veggies, fruits, and Banh Mi.

And some really nicely fried eggs(and don’t forget the laughing cow cheese)…when it dawned on us; Mai had carried this stuff in her back pack, than prepped and cooked everything for us.

We felt kinda bad….and we mentioned this to Mai, who told us, "oh no, sometimes I have to carry and make lunch for 10 people, that is heavy." The lunch was deceivingly filling and refreshing at the same time. During lunch we got to know a bit better, She has been a guide for 1 1/2 years, and is only 19 years old! And here’s the kicker, Mai has been working her whole life, whether helping in the fields, or caring for one of her 8 siblings and was never able to go to school, and thus is not able to read or write in her own, or any language. Mai’s English was excellent, so we were wondering how she learned English. Mai told us that she picked up English from tourists. Talk about being resilient…

After lunch, we made our way to our ride, and back to Sapa. In addition to being bushed, I was in need of a shower. We had learned much from our hike, and much of it was due to Mai. If you’re ever in Sapa, maybe you’ll consider getting a local guide, we think you’ll be glad you did. Thanks Mai!

That evening, still strangely full from lunch, we had some street food(that is another post all together) and dodged raindrops back to the hotel. We sat on the balcony watching the lightning, and staring in amazement as we watched the wall of fog move up the valley envelop us. All while sipping on the wonderful Snake Wine from Le Mat. Life was good!

Sapa lies to the Northwest of Hanoi, close to the Chinese border, in Lao Cai Province. Much of Lao Cai Province is dominated by  the Hoang Lien Son Mountain range and Mount Fanispan(the highest peak in Vietnam). It is a region dubbed the Tonkinese Alps by the French, who first settled and started to develop Sapa in the 1920's. And though both Jesuit Missionaries(in 1918) and the French(in 1909) claim to have "discovered" or "settled in" Sapa; the area has long been populated by the "Hill Tribes", called the Montagnards("mountain people", "from the mountains") by the French. In and around Sapa, the 2 main ethnic groups are the H'mong(most notably Black Hmong) and the Dzao("Zao", mostly Red Dzao). Sapa is also known for the mild weather; I was told it hardly ever gets warmer than 30 degrees Celsius(about 85 F), and it does get down to as low as 4 C(about 40 F), this year had been especially cold, and there had been some snow! Some of these facts might have gone through my head(my mind has been called a "cesspool" of useless information), had I not been so tired and hungry. We had been dropped off right at the bottom of a street called Cau May. We decided to shop around and see what prices and rooms were like, and many places will let you check out the rooms before making a decision. We eventually chose the Mountain View Hotel, not because of the price(rooms $10-$15/ night), nor the rooms, which were run down, shabby, and had an "outhouse-ish" smell to them. But because of the view.

And the Missus had some "plans" in mind, where we'd really only stay here for one night.

You can see why they call it the Tonkinese Alps…….

By now, I really didn't care what fiendish plan was simmering in the Missus's head(to my chagrin…..more later). I was just plain hungry. Now in every city, town, or community there seems to be a "central market", you can call it "Mercado Central", A Farmer's Market, or whatever; it is, in most basic terms, a gathering place for the community to shop and socialize. And these markets usually includes a few places serving food. In the case of Sapa, it was simply named "Cho Sa Pa", Sapa Market.

And in the middle of the bustling market, were the food stalls. Heck, call it a food court if you will.

One section served soups, one section fried items, in this section, some major heat was on display.

And the Husband and Wife team specializing in two dishes. The Husband manned the grill(it's universal, isn't it?), cooking the ubiquitous "meat on a stick". You could smell the Bun Cha from quite a distance.

His Wife, slaved over the large pot of boiling water, covered with a metal frame with linen, making Banh Cuon, those wonderful thin sheets of rice floor noodle/crepe.

A scoop of batter was poured and spread over the base.

Covered, than folded with minced pork and cloud ear fungus.

  So naturally we had to have one of each. All of the classic garnishes and accompaniments were provided; pickled papaya, a warm fish sauce based dipping sauce, the runny-sweet-mildly spicy hot sauce that I've come to miss, and of course herbs and greens.

Tons of fresh mint, and the Missus, for some reason, really liked the lettuce(?).

The Banh Cuon(15,000 VND – just under $1/US) arrived first, steaming hot.

The Bahn Cuon was topped with fried shallots, and Pork Sung, what we call "Rousong"…..basically dried shredded pork. Not my favorite thing in the world, but in this case I wasn't bothered too much by it.  This Banh Cuon was much more delicate than the version I had in Hanoi, and it had a nice bit of stretch to it. Not as much filling as that version, but I enjoyed it more.

The Bun Cha(3 skewers – also 15,ooo VND) arrived soon after.

  While the Husband was setting the plate of pork down, his wife ran over to one of the booths just outside of the eating area, and came back with a plate of Bun. This was the best Bun(Rice Vermicelli) we had on the entire trip, just the perfect combination of slightly sticky, and very mildly chewy. The dipping sauce was like almost every other we had, basically a fish sauce "broth". The Bun Cha was "jerky-ish" but tasted very good. Lemon Grass and Fish Sauce were the prevailing flavors, with just a hint of citrus, onion(I'm thinking shallot), and sweetness. We enjoyed ourselves so much, we returned the next morning!

The couple who ran this stall was very nice; the Husband was the more outgoing and social of the two. Somehow, on our second visit, through gestures, we figured out that his Mother ran the stall next door. Looks like the family business is going strong! And though his wife, the quieter of the two, was in constant motion, whether cleaning, or doing some other task, sometimes with their infant on her back. On our first visit, she noticed the Missus's interest in the Banh Cuon contraption. Yep, you guessed it, a Buon Cuon lesson was in order. First she demonstrated.

Now it was the Missus's turn. Can you tell that she's a bit concerned, perhaps about the Missus burning Herself, or maybe seeing their profits being wasted?

Actually, with a bit of help, the Missus did Herself, and me proud. Not a bad job overall.

Yes, Banh Cuon so good, the Hmong eat there…..

After the meal I was ready for a nap, but that was not to be. The Missus had other plans in mind. We returned to see the Black Hmong getting ready for a busy day of "selling".

Still in a bit of a stupor; I sat down with Mr. Phuc, and went through what we wanted to do in detail. I really didn't pay attention to what I requested for this morning………