Biking and Bac Ha

My last night in Laos was seemingly pleasant, having spent the night eating and drinking with the locals. As they were playing Patenque for beer money I thought I’d rather watch than end up paying for everyone’s drinks. One of the guys was a guesthouse owner I’d met down river, it was a nice to socialize with him away from the confines of his business. It was still an early night though, facing a 5am start I wasn’t about to stay up until the late hours, besides the Laoitians are not exactly late night revellers. It was only the following morning that I discovered a heap of money missing from where I kept it stashed amongst my luggage. Daft maybe, but you have to keep it somewhere, personally I don’t like to keep the bulk of my money on my person. £125 is a lot to lose by petty theft, and I’m sure it was stolen by the owners or staff of the hotel. So, If ever stopping over in Muang Khoa, be very careful about staying in Keophila 2 Guesthouse. (Photo: Banana plantation – Nr Loah Cai, Northern Vietnam)

A few of us caught the bus into Vietnam, all continuing onto to Sapa from the border town of Dien Bien Piu. Our night there was a laugh, with an Ozzie couple a local bar was the first stop. And weren’t we the centre of attraction, my dreads seem to grab people’s attention. At least it isn’t always in a negative way, but I’m still surprised at people’s reaction; it’s only a bloody hairstyle. First of all it was only the female bar owner who was curious, and then she called her friends over. Three of them twiddled and played with my hair, marveling as I showed them how to dread it. I’m sure one wanted to chop them off, luckily she wasn’t too serious and seemed satisfied to gather it together and secure it with a hair band. Laughing at the photos taken of us, as she played with my hair, her friends wanted in on the act. So I ended with a young woman squidging into my lap and wrapping her arms around me for a photo. Now that had nothing to do with my hair, and when the inevitable proposition came I laughed and said no thanks. Establishing that I was single was actually the funniest part, I knew what they were getting at so kept trying to say Jane was with me, not with Dave. He misinterpreted what she was saying and was pointed at himself and me, thinking she was asking who smoked. Of course the situation did get cleared up, which is when it was suggested I might be interested in the young woman. (Photo: Roadside pose – Pho Lu, Northern Vietnam)

Sapa was destined to be my first port of call, on recommendation of too many people to ignore. Two long days on buses were necessary to get there, so by the time I arrived all I wanted was to find a guesthouse and relax. That was before encountering the charming but persistent Mhong women. Walking into town with a pack on is a dead give away, fresh blood, the ideal opportunity to ingratiate themselves upon you. From a punter’s viewpoint it’s a gauntlet that has to be run, and running is the best way to deal with it. As you apologise and attempt to walk away they follow you, all round town if they think they might find a chink in your armour. And they’re by no means the only touts for business, it seems everyone wants to get their claws into your pockets. Whether for hotels, motorbike hire, food or bars the touts are out. And as I said a rucksack makes you a prime target. (Photo: Mhong women at the cattle market – Bac Ha, Northern Vietnam)

But I felt sorry for the Mhong, they walk miles into to town and back most days, purely to try and sell a few souvenirs to tourists. The sheer numbers of them, and their selling technique of completely engulfing tourists in a tide of eager women, can’t make for high sales volume. Some of their embroidered bags and jewellery are exquisite, but as soon as you consider having a closer look other women will pour forward, “you buy from me, you buy from me”. I’m pleased to say walking round town since my initial arrival hasn’t attracted the large groups of them. But they wait on the hill opposite my hotel, for the rich tourists to come by. All the hotels further up hill from me are the big plush one’s, but the police won’t allow the ethnic groups within a few hundred yards of them. Hence the women wait in ambush further down the hill, as many as thirty of them. If they creep further uphill the police hustle them away, prodding them with their batons until the willingly descend. (Photo: Various Mhong tribes women– Bac Ha, Northern Vietnam)

All the villages of this area are of one Mhong tribe or another, it’s the black Mhong nearest to Sapa. By hiring a bike I took an overnight trip to the market town of Bac Ha, where they have infinitely more colourfully dressed tribes women. It’s strange though, most towns women wear normal western dress, whereas without fail the outlaying villagers are adorned in traditional clothes. Even the guys coming in form the villages tend to dress traditionally, which is are to see amongst many indigenous people around the world. It’s often the men who stay at home with the kids while the women come to town to ply their wares. Apart from being inundated with sheer numbers they are friendly and pleasant, at least they befriend you rather than simply hassle. They’re well versed in enough English to make your acquaintance and extract promises of buying only form them. (Photo: Grazing the paddy – Pho Lu, Northern Vietnam)

The bike ride was great fun, especially after having the drive chain adjusted. With the exception of 30km along the river, it was all steep gradients and tight twisting turns. Due to mist laying heavy in the hills the views weren’t stunning, but it couldn’t detract from the pleasure of riding through tropic environs. On the way back I took a longer route, staying off the main road. Huge numbers of tourist buses had descended on Bac Ha as I was leaving, so finding small villages that didn’t suffer such intrusions was my ideal for the day. And I found just what I wanted. Anytime I stopped people would appear to see the foreigner, surprised at the sight of me. Hardly any spoke English, so communication was by hand, but I didn’t linger too long. A few words of greeting, a minute for them to admire the bike I was riding and off I’d go again. They ride mainly step-through scooters of minimal size, seeing a 150cc bike, with gears and a clutch raised many an admiring comment. (Photo: Buffalo buy – Nr Pho Lu, Northern Vietnam)