When we got to Sa Pa the fog had worsened, and as we drove through town, we were reminded of how ski resorts look on days when the weather closes in - there were quite a few disgruntled looking tourists mooching around the streets, going from cafe to cafe and browsing in the shops. We were soon to join their ranks.
The Victoria hotel, despite being the best hotel in Sa Pa, was something of a disappointment. We were expecting faded colonial elegance, but instead, the Victoria, although being well appointed, could easily have graced any ring road back at home, and felt like the most touristy place that we had stayed so far. But Sapa had an ethereal, almost spooky feel to it, completely covered in mist and low cloud that recalled newsreels of London pea soupers from the 1950's (so Gill and Ant reminded us youngsters in the group...). Today was going to be a day of mooching, and we started at Sapa Rooms, in their cafe, where we lingered for a few hours over lunch and their excellent muffins. Trekking or any kind of sortie out of town was not an option so we sought solace and tried to assuage our hiraeth (longing for home) at the Red Dragon pub. We could easily have been in Tenby in high season - the weather was being typically Welsh, and the 80's power ballads blaring from the stereo reminded us that the 80's have never really gone away. In the evening after dinner at The Noshery, the fog seemed to be getting worse by the minute. As night fell the town was almost deserted and we seemed to be the only tourists on the street. Passers by emerged as apparitions out of the mist and darkness and after dinner we walked home through murky and deserted streets. We hoped that tomorrow we would get a glimpse of the surrounding landscapes for which Sa Pa is famous. To be continued...
Ok, we'll spoil the suspense: the next day we awoke to sunshine and scattered cloud, and we were treated to views of the valley and surrounding mountains that make Sapa so famous. Ant declared the breakfast pho to be the best that he had sampled so far. Meanwhile David was busy trying to rebook flights as Asiana had changed his flight time back to London. We had planned to spend the day wandering around town, and that is exactly what we did. We could not resist the lure of the pedaloes on the man made lake in the centre of town. Ant and David messed about on the water while Gill, in her official photographer capacity, recorded the event for posterity. Or should that read for austerity?
Pedicures, haircut (Gill declined a Farrah flick), and a very long lunch at Sapa Rooms. Where did the day go?
We ended our time in Sa Pa with a trip through the market. Tourists are advised not to buy handicrafts from itinerant sellers in town, despite their entreaties to buy at every corner. These can prove hard to resist, but Anthony's riposte ("No dong! I don't like it!) was surprisingly effective. We succumbed finally to the lure of handicrafts at the market, and we marvelled at the work that went into the blankets made by the local minorities. David and Anthony were hard pressed to choose a blanket to take back to Pimlico - the work is incredibly fine and detailed and the prices, for Westerner's, do not reflect the painstaking work needed to make these blankets. The town square became a market for the day and the Black H'Mong ladies displayed their wares on the ground. It's a pity they are so persistent, if they let you just take a relaxed look without the harrass, we may have actually bought something.
All too soon it was time for our pickup to take us back to Lao Cai, from where we would take the sleeper train back to Hanoi. The 36km journey takes over an hour, due to the hairpin bends and mountainous terrain that defines this part of northern Vietnam. Having been so sleepy on the 5am journey when we arrived, this time as we were more awake, we noticed that every one of the 36kms of mountain side and valley floor were taken up with terraced paddy and vegetable fields, clinging to the hills like green contour lines on a map. We arrived back in Lao Cai, which is only 3km from the frontier with China - already we were back in the real world, a lifetime away from the bucolic charms of Sa Pa. Lao Cai had all the trappings of a frontier town, and an edginess that we liked.
"This train is for Hanoi", said the Tannoy (albeit in Vietnamese). We do like an alliterative train trip. We were back on the Ratraco (an unfortunate name) (not) express and soon bouncing along headed back to the capital. There was a festive air in our compartment, aided by picnic boxes from the hotel, and cold Hanoi beers. We would be arriving in Hanoi at 4am, so we tried to get our heads down early. This is no mean feat, given the quality of the track between Sa Pa and Hanoi. Emergency stops are common, and we jolted along at almost Burmese proportions (see earlier blog entry). If the train and the track were people, then they would not have been on speaking terms, or might not even have been introduced! You get the picture about how we spent the night not sleeping (Anthony excepted, of course). We arrived bleary eyed to the awakening city at 4am. Hanoi was still sleeping for the most part in the darkness of pre dawn. We had enjoyed getting away from the 21st century in Sapa, but the moment that we stepped down from the train, we were once again infected by the energy and buzz of Vietnam's capital city.
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