Growing exhausted by the alternating 'this-is-wonderful-wait-it's-terrible-ope-now-it's-amazing' nature of life in Hanoi, we journeyed north to the remote mountain station of Sapa close to the border with China. After taking a taxi to the train station and arranging for the cheapest sleeper ticket on a train we hoped was heading to Sapa, we set about our day in the city and then returned ready to sleep it off in the train.
An entire Vietnamese family was prepared to sleep it off with us, however, as we were situated on the top, coffin-like bunks in a cabin shared with the rambuncious (and noisy bunch. Glad to have finally found the train- given that Vietnamese public transit is the transportation version of a chicken with it's head cut off - we found sleep anyway despite the lack of head room and noise emanating below.
We awoke to the mass departure of everyone around us and, in the well-established tradition of venturing out without knowing if we'd made it there yet or not, we got off anyway. A legion of shuttle bus drivers met us with offers of plush seats available for the drive up into the mountains. '150,000,"they said. "30,000," Kendra returned. They immediately accepted, and so we were off.
The gorgeous drive heavily featured rice paddy terraces framing steep mountain ridges and cliffs framed by absent -inded water buffalo chewing the day away. The views were so beautiful they could've made a Swiss person cry, and the cool mountain air, pine trees, and stunning views instantly reminded me of back home.
Walking to the guest house we'd planned on staying at, we were met by Mah, a local woman dressed traditionally and carrying an adorable baby strapped to her back. She spoke excellent English and asked us about where we were from and what our plans were. She offered for us to spend the night with her after hiking the 4.5mi into her village, and, feeling adventurous, we accepted.
With a homestay, we purchase the food for dinner and breakfast while the family provides us lodging. that way we get a wonderful experience for a very low cost and they get an expensive meal they normally couldn't afford. After resting in a nearby restaurant - changing and cleaning up in the bathroom - we began the insanely beautiful trek down into the most picturesque valley in the world.
After talking at length during the downhill hike, and splitting a massive cucumber which we ate like a watermelon, we arrived at Mah's home. The modest accomodations were framed by the beautiful scenery, and we were instantly welcomed by her extremely friendly family. Another local woman shoed me to her house, where she prepares garments by hand, stripping, sewing, and dying hemp cloth then weaving it with a wooden loom. Jin, mah's husband (they're both 20 and have 3 children) helped with a dinner that was fantastic. After lots of conversation, we retired to our bed but not before many games of "Go Fish." Despite having just taught Mah and Jin, they did a great job and scored several wins.
Our night's sleep was eventful, as our mat over straw on the dirt floor afforded little protection from an army of curious insects. The many farm animals were also bent on destroying our hopes of consistent rest, but we endured and wouldn't change the experience for the world. After a wonderful breakfast, more photos, and a long goodbye with the family, we hiked to a nearby village and caught motorbikes back up into the city.
We rested the remainder of the day in the city's peaceful park and found lunch at a restaurant with an impossibly gorgeous view. We would then catch a night bus back to Hanoi, and little did we know what that bus would bring. . .
Sounds amazing! Especially that you got to do the homestay! :)
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