Breakfast was free with the room so I ordered a toasted sandwich, after yesterdays French Toast I wasn't sure what I would get. Well, it was two very fat pieces of toast wrapped around raw cheese, ham, tomato, cucumber and egg. Im glad I asked them to hold the tomato and the lettuce, they would have made it even soggier than it was. As soon as I picked it up my fingers went straight through the bread and that was it. I couldnt even look at if after that, but I did enjoy the coffee.
The place is still covered in mist, so my options for the day are to sit in the hotel foyer or go walking and looking at the mist. I could have gone with a Hmong to her village but am so over going to contrived tourst villages where they see us tourists as money machines so that wsnt going to happen, but thought I would follow the idea that the lady in the hotel gave me decided to walk down hill to a village, 1km she said. I walked the 1km and found it took me to a ticket office where I had to pay to go into the village which was 2.5km away. Even if I had gone down that track I still wouldnt have been able to see anything as it was mistier down there than higher up. Walking back I notice the sign.. Violet?
I turn and walk back up the hill and spend the day aimlessly wandering, avoiding the Hmong who are everywhere and constantly hastling. I notice their black hands and initially think it is dirt, which seemed weird as their clothes are spotless, but then realise that it is either from the dying of fabric, which they are known for, or from the residue of the fabrics that they are wearing. I also wonder how much of this is real and how much a tourist stunt. Do they always wear traditional dress or is it donned just for the tourists? Other than shop and hospitality owners/workers and tourists all the other people appear to be Hmong in traditional dress, where is everyone else? I overhear a Hmong saying that very quiet... Not many tourists, which is why all the restaurants are empty, but it would be horrible with piles more tourists, absolutely horrible, so I am glad I have missed them, and those that didn't come are probably glad they missed the snow and the mist.
I go back to the hope centre where some of the girls are sitting, warm in their new coats, smiles allover their faces. Loved it. We had a great chat and they kept saying thank you. Not me loves, but some other amazing people.
Walking back down the hill I find a little guy dancing in the street and got him to pose for me. He went crazy when he saw the photo and I tried to grab another while he was jumping and waving his arms around. Just too gorgeous. His family were all laughing.
I have found some amazingly fiendly and lovely people here, not as much as in HCMC but still plenty, but cant help notice the difference between the everyday random people who are so cheery and some of the rude service staff. That was reinforced when I eventually hit the airport and. Was snapped at by most everyone I spoke to.
Just checking out the sights around town was fun:
I feel peckish but wary of the many restaurants with no patrons and wonder of the freshness of food with no turnover. Yesterday's street BBQ has put me off and I didn't want to go to the place I have already been to twice so I wandered on. For some reason I thought pizza and the thought stuck. I'm surprised that after my last pizza I ever want to have pizza again but the thought wont go away. I eventually find a lovley looking place and go in, dark and filled with "ambience". As soon as I ask for the pizza they tell me no electricity, so no pizza but I can have anything else, except for everything else I ask for. The whole town is out, I am told. I leave, been through the no power thing one time too many.
And so I return to wandreing through the market where I buy some donuts to eat on the train. No snack stores around so this will have to do. As I walk through the market I notice tht some stalls have lights on so follow the trail and end up next to the hotel where I am sitting as I write. The only customer so I order fried rice which they cant do anything drastic to. There is an open fire but funnily enough I was warmer outside. There is beautiful french music playing. I love it. The fried rice comes and is totally tasteless but at least was hot and is edible.
Only three more hours to kill and I can go get ready to be collected for the train. I still hope for sunshine and a break in the mist so I can see the beauty of this countryside. By the time I get on the bus to leave it will be dark so wont see anything then either. Really upset with myself in my quest to get off the beaten track and see the way the people live and then I choose to come here, which is the most tourist false place I have been, but it was the scenery that was the attraction and I missed that as well. Oh well too late now. The thought of arriving in Hanoi at 4am and then having to kill time till I go to Hoi An as well is a bit of a put off. Maybe my hunch about not coming was something I should have listened to.
At one stage I wander through the food markets, the absemce of flies is encouraging and the food looks really clean. I see black chickens and wonder what they are. I also see live chickens in cages and cringe when I think of the feather dusters I took photos of yesterday. Vegetables are glistening with water but look extra fresh and crispy. Next to the raw food market is what we would call a food hall. Lots of tables with people cooking a variety of different things and their patrons sitting at the table eating while the vendor is cooking. The patrons are mainly Hmong.
I wander up a street market where mainly Hmong have set up shop on the footpath. Same, same. But on the corner are four beautiful ladies with the traditional red headdress of the Red Dao people. They didn't hastle me to buy anything and just smiled and asked me how old I was touching their hair. I told them, they seemed surprised. I asked how old they were and they said 50, beautifully smooth skin but their faces showed hardship that we do not know about in our countries. I felt sad for them. Interestingly of the four, three wore glasses which I had not seen on tribal people before. One of the ladies even had the sticker on hers showing the strength.
As I think about that I remember the number of Hmong women I have seen with gold teeth; not one but many women often with multiple gold teeth. I haven't seen any with teeth missing. Being a Hmong tourist tout obviously pays well. The young lady that attached herself to me yesterday, sidles up to me as I wander and tells me I need to buy something. Sorry love, but I have now spent the money. I saw her later and she glared at me. Another one that I didnt buy from called out after me for the world to hear "eff you kay", and yet another grumped at me. I'm glad I didn't indulge them. Signs around town say not to buy from them so glad I did the right thing. Below is a group trying to weasel something out of yet another unsuspecting tourist.
Reflecting back on my trip it is one of the few where I haven't spent time with local people and learned of their way of life and although I have seen lots I don't feel as though I have experienced much at all and certainly haven't learned much. My closest contact with locals was in HCMC with crazy Philip, the SiMueng/That Luang Festival, Christmas Eve in Hanoi, the street children of Sapa and the small contact with the Hmong at Ock Pop Tok in Luang Prabang. The rest of the time has mainly been going from one westernised tourist trap to another aimlessly wandering the streets like I have done here. Seems a waste of three months, but then that wasn't my primary reason for coming anyway. It has however fuelled my fire to get back to Africa and the Middle East which is where my heart has always been.
Fried Rice done I am going in search of a coffee to stretch out the afternoon. As I walk I get a glimpse of some rice fields in the distance. The mist is clearing and so I go in search of a photo, just one that might prove that I have been. The other pics I can steal from elsewhere or from the picture postcards that inspired me to come. Maybe my amazing experience in the rice paddies of Bali will have to suffice.
It is still very misty and I try many options on the camera so not sure what has worked and what hasnt. I can only imagine how spectacular the scenery must be when the rice is planted and the sun is shining. It looks magical in the postcards. Even through the mist I can see the shapes of the fields and the irrigation channels running round the sides allowing the water to move from one paddy to the next.
I go for a long walk and as it nears 3:30 I start to think of a hot drink and maybe some food before my trip. Too late the power is now out around the hotel area and the best I can get is a Vietnamese Instant Coffee, putrid but hot, at the hotel where I stayed. One of the guests comes to say that lights aren't working. No one knows how to explain, so I do. She isn't given a torch or any solution and the staff carry on chatting and giggling. I would have thought that where power failures are regular, and in a multi storey hotel, that a torch in the room and in the reception would be a minimum. Most of the staff speak minimal english and no French which is weird since the place is advertised on English websites and on international booking sites. Whenever I speak to the receptionist she gives me a pained look and shakes her head. Sometimes she answers with something totally unrelated to my question. In the end I gave up, stopped asking questions and ate elsewhere.
As I sit, getting colder, drinking this putrid excuse for a coffee I am given a plate of sweet coconut which comes in short lengths of something that looks like white lasagna. It is coated with icing sugar and tastes weird but quite nice. The sweetness is good and by the time I finish the plateful have decided that I really like it. yum.
Sitting here I can see kids playing a game similar to badminton, with a shuttlecock type thing. Instead of the racket they use their feet. Some tourists join in and everyone laughs. The tourists have the advantage of longer legs but no one seems to mind. Further down the road I saw people playing badminton and cheered them on as they won points.
Eventually the mini bus arrives and I am on my way to Lao Cai to get the train back to Hanoi. The light is low but the scenery stupendous. One day when I buy a decent camera I am going to come back this way, drive myself to some point along the road, avoid Sapa, but do the photo shoot thing. It is datk when we arrive in Lao Cai. I am quite apprehensive about sharing a cabin again, with other people I dont know. It could be anyone. When I go get my ticket I stress that I want an upper bunk and she grabs a pre-printed ticket from the pile and gives it to me.
Eventually the doors open and all hell breaks loose with people scrambling for the train leaving just before mine. Basic, very basic. Wooden seats for a 12 hour overnight train ride. No thanks.
Soon my train arrives and we pile on board. I am the first in my carriage and dump my things to claim my spot. I turn around to go out to the loo and trying to get in the door are the girls that I shared with two nights ago. Totally random choice of berth numbers and another amazing coincidence. It was like a family reunion. I was so relieved and it was hugs all round. These girls are amazing. They have clothed nearly 300 kids in the region with shoes, socks, gloves, jackets and a pair of trousers. Many had never had real shoes before. And the girls are so humble about what they have done. Amazing and I am so humbled and honoured that I had the chance to be part of it.
The train system is a bit of a laugh. Different companies run different carraiges on the same train it appears. All the same class but some classier than others. This one that I am in is spotless, newer than the last. Beds (4 to a cabin) are made up with clean white sheets, a lovely pillow and duvet and we get complimentary water, beer and coke. Pretty nice for about $20 each way.
We snuggle in, I pop a bluey and good night all. My bunk is hard, but it is toasty warm and I am happy. Goodnight from the rail to Hanoi.
Alas the sleep I had the first night was a one off. That train was so smooth and we all got a good nights sleep. This one was giggling, noisy, shaky, hot - all sorts, so we all arrived Hanoi feeling rotten. One of the guys helped me get a cab at a good price and I made it to the airport with 4 hours to kill before my flight. Not a good place to spend alot of time. Little good food, cold seats and right now my head is spinning and I need a nap, with no place to do it. I'm even too early to check in and they were asking a silly amount to change me to the earlier flight. And so I wait.........
Eventually I find a seat, cold metal, uncomfortable and next to me a guy whistles, badly. I so want to whack him one. Just as I start to get comfy I realise it is time for me to check in which I do without any issues and then wander upstairs, where I had been told there was no food unless I was flying international. Duh! four restaurants here. Two run by the same crowd, one by the crowd that made me the tasteless Pho earlier this morning, so that rules them out. The othr has a photo of pizza outside so I settle on that, although really want some big time protein to give me a burst.
My waitress somes to see what I want, holding one nostril whilst sniffing through the other. If I hadn't been so tired and lacking in energy I would have left right then, but am at the stage where I cant be picky. My previous attempt at eating today was a waste of time and money. The Pho totally tasteless and the coffee average and at NZ prices. Oh well, hopefully the omelet I order will do the trick and another waitress, sans nose drip, delivers it. Fresh pineapple juice is good so that bodes well. Anyway they have wifi so if nothing else can use their access to post this.
My omelet arrives, served by a guy, sans drip and looks yum. I like the way they make them into a wee roll thing. Hope it tastes as good.
Next update from Hoi An where I go by cab or shuttle after arriving into Da Nang by air. Matt and Amy will be waiitng in a hotel that apparently is real noisy. I so want to go home right at this minute.
The weather may not have been good enough to get any photos but thanks to some commercially bought postcards I have some images of the sort of thing I would have seen had the weather been better. If I ever come this way again I get a car from the train station, drive much of the way to Sapa, but not all the way into town, take some pics and drive out again. From what I saw on the drive back to the train the scenery on that road was stupendous.
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