We eventually left Halong Bay and headed back to Hanoi to catch a night train to Sapa. As we've come to expect with so many of the brochures and photos of things/services, there is quite a bit of artistic licensing, and the photos showing a "VIP sleeper" carriage are no different in Vietnam!
The most notable difference being the expectation of only two beds per carriage, when in actual fact there are four! The extra beds eventually prompted the arrival of two Vietnamese men, neither of which caused any bother expect, the one lying opposite Holly thought his oogling stares at her chest would be well hidden behind the tiny hand-rail that ran along the edge of his bed...unfortunatley he was mistaken...and unfortunately he seemed completely oblivious to Hollys' "you dirty old git, stop staring at my boobs" glares!Anyway, 8hours later we arrived at Lao Cai and caught a mini-van to Sapa.
The Lonely Planet describes Sapa as a "charming highland town". This is certainly true for the most part. Sapa is set about 1500m above sea level, with terraced hillsides overlooked by log huts. This scenery, however, is immediately obscured by the wall of local women that attack you as soon as you get off the bus!!
Wearing traditional clothing (in an attempt to make the utter crap they try to sell you seem more authentic) they try to flog their local handicrafts which include:
- a lovely array of jewellery that is guaranteed to turn anything it touches bright green!
- an assortment of local textiles, which again threaten to ensure anything they come into contact with will ressemble the inside of a Skittles packet!- local crafted musical instuments. Notably the "Twangy-Tooth-Shatterer"! I'm sure this has a more official title, but from what we witnessed, anyone seeking to acheive Grade 1 in the "Twangy-Tooth-Shatterer" should be aware they will be funding their dentists' next Porsche!
Thankfully, the hawking locals were escaped as we were soon ushered into our hostel, given time to have breakfast, a shower and then taken 11km by motorbike to the foot of Fansipan Mountain by two drivers who thought they were Valentino Rossi (who is to Motor GP what Michael Schumacher is to F1!!).
It should be noted at this point, that we again fell fowl to poetic licensing!
Mount Fansipan is 3143 (bloody) meters high and is the highest point in Vietnam! Nearly all the literature surrounding the climb of this sodding lump of rock uses wording such as "quite challenging", "rough terrain" and "no ropes or technical climbing skills are needed, just endurance". It would later become obvious why the "book of lies" is so named as if I was an international travel writter who told people of the magical, slightly challenging climb of Fansipan, I would would find it a pretty Lonely f£&@ing Planet too!!
Blissfully unaware we set off with our tour guide (a 12year old in trainers) and our trusted Sherpa (a late 50s local man, sporting a pair of ancient flipflops, one good eye and what would later be discovered - a worring lack of bedding/items to ease the hyperthermic conditions we would subsequently endure!).
As we started the walk, all seemed well. At one point Holly famously noted "ohhh, it's like a slightly hillier version of the New Forest"!! After about 2hours we passed into Base Camp 1, a local "village" (population: 9) consisting of 2 huts (made from bamboo covered tarpaulin) - one for cooking and one for sleeping. As Billy Connelly would say, "the tea and toilet facilities left a lot to be desired", with the toilet being a bamboo platform teetering over the edge of a cliff, surrounded by the deposits of those feeling less brave!!
Despite this the villagers seemed to be friendly enough and we left thinking that if Base Camp 2 was the same, then things could have been alot worse!
As we would discover in about 4 hours time, things could have been alot worse and at Base Camp 2, they were!
However, separating us and Base Camp 2 was the "quite challenging" "rough terrain". Hopefully what the picture to the left captures is the almost unrelenting sheer climb endured to reach the top of Fansipan. Whilst the "book of lies" is correct in saying you don't need any rope of techical equipment, it would make scrabbling up the vertical dried out river bed that is "the path" somewhat easier. It would also mean your faith is put into something a bit more reliable than the nearest bamboo branch, as you dangle over another bottomless ridge-edge praying the flimsy bit of vegetation you find yourself clinging onto does snap!
During all this, our 12year old guide and bung-eyed Sherpa, would point out distant lands/things of interest. To be fair, whilst these were viewed with an almost unbearable urge to club our guides to death, the beautiful weather meant we were treated to some breathtaking (quite literally) views of Northern Vietnam.
We eventually got to Base Camp 2 around 4pm. At a lofty 2400m above sea level there was a bit of a nip to the air but we worried not as we'd been assured that ol' Popeye had brought everything we would need for a comfortable nights slumber!
Similar to Base Camp 1, Base Camp 2 consisted of two huts. However, this time there was a well made smaller hut and a rather larger second hut made from corrugated iron. We initial thought Hut 2 was used to house the mountain buffalo the locals keep on Fansipan and so set about investigating Hut 1.
Hut 1 was constructed using the same bamboo cover tarpaulin technology seen at Base Camp 1. Sporting a small dining area, seperate kitchen area and two seperate sleeping areas, lavishly heaped with warm blankets and soft matting, we began to look forward to a well earned nights rest!
They say to assume is to make an "ass out of u and me", and what a couple of asses we must of looked as old Pudsy the Sherpa lead us off into Hut 2 with two summer sleeping bags and a tarpaulin to put under us to help keep the wind off our backs!
In contrast to Hut 1, the interior to Hut 2 was split into two raised bamboo platforms, one under each of it's sloping roofs. At both ends of Hut 2 were a set of iron doors. Despite their seemingly steardy looking construction, they would later be discovered as being somewhat sensative to the slightest of breezes and would spend the rest of the night clashing together like a demented 5year old playing the Symbols!! As we continued to inspect our humble abode, we soon noticed that, obscured by a foot-deep layer of rubbish, the underside of the bamboo platforms eventually gave way to a bamboo latice. The latticed bamboo, as became immediately apparent, had presumably been put in place by previous travellers in a desperate attempt keep the wind from whistling through to the gap between Hut 2's walls and the ground!!
Taking things in good spirit, we went to Hut 1 for dinner and at around 9pm headed to Hut 2 to get some sleep. Upon leaving the warmth of Hut 1's bamboo fire and entering Hut 2, we were met first by a rat the size of a small car and then by the frost enducing temperatures we would bare witness to all night!
In a desperate bid to get warm we adoned all items of clothing (including water proofs) and clambered into our summer sleeping bags. Whilst we were, to a certain extent, able to ignore the mice and rats that scuttled all around/over us and the demented "musically gifted" 5year old that was Hut 2's metal doors in the gale like winds, the unbearably painful, uneven bamboo platform on which we lay, was not so easy to ignore. Given the sub zero temperatures and next to useless sleeping bags, we both spent the night like a pair of Stevie Wonder tribute artists - gritting our teeth and manically wraithing around in our sleeping bags in a desperate attempt to get warm!
After the longest night of our lives, 6am arrived!!
After thawing ourselves apart and breakfast, we headed for the peak of Fansipan.
The climb would see us scale vertically upwards to 2950m, then vertically downwards to 2650m and then back up (again vertically) to 3143m! After 2hours we made it and were treated to the most satisfying view of....cloud and wind-tunnel-like conditions! At one point we were expecting Piglet to fly past yelling "P, P, Poooooohhhh"!! Thankfully the one foot Budda, that had been set in concrete to the otherwise bleak mountain top, smiled favorably upon us and we were treated to the views we had so deservedly earned and been promised!
The climb down Fansipan was almost a depressing as the climb up, only this time the vertical ups were vertical downs and vice versa! This was actually slightly harder, as rather than baring our backs to the endless cliff-edges, we were now meeting them face on as we bounced down the mountain side like lanky Gummy Bears!!
After another 2hours we stopped at Base Camp 2 for lunch. A shadow of our former selves, in desperate need of a good nights sleep and double knee replacements, we reached Base Camp 1 four hours later.
Dinner was again in a very well constructed hut similar to Hut 1 at Base Camp 2. During dinner our 12year old tour guide challenged us to a drinking contest using their local moonshine. After 4 shots, he got up, pitched backwards into the sleeping quarters and started humming softly!
We took this as our que to go to bed in the second hut. Thankfully Hut 2 and Hut 1 were almost identical in their construction. Hut 2, however, was where the entire village slept, togther...including the local couple who would later come in and dive behind the netted curtain and start giggling.. and the man who liked to sleep with the village radio on full blast...and the man who liked to smoke something that looked like a giant bamboo bong before going to bed...and the man who smelt like he'd been charged with building the new village toilet facilities!! Still at least we weren't cold.
After being threatened with having his beloved radio lodged so far up his arse that even the rickety long drop toliet facilities wouldn't scare it back out of him, we got down to a much better nights sleep.
Come the morning we woke up to a very grumpy looking village, which we can only assume didn't sleep very well on account of one/both of us snoring!!
Day 3 was a doddel and 2hours after breakfast we were finally back where we'd started. Thirty minutes later we'd been motorbiked back to Sapa and were both having hot showers, looking back on our magical, authentic experience!
The rest of the afternoon was spent shuffling round Sapa town like a pair of half shut Swiss Army knives and getting some sulpplies for the night train back to Hanoi.
Thankfully, the hawking locals were escaped as we were soon ushered into our hostel, given time to have breakfast, a shower and then taken 11km by motorbike to the foot of Fansipan Mountain by two drivers who thought they were Valentino Rossi (who is to Motor GP what Michael Schumacher is to F1!!).
It should be noted at this point, that we again fell fowl to poetic licensing!
Mount Fansipan is 3143 (bloody) meters high and is the highest point in Vietnam! Nearly all the literature surrounding the climb of this sodding lump of rock uses wording such as "quite challenging", "rough terrain" and "no ropes or technical climbing skills are needed, just endurance". It would later become obvious why the "book of lies" is so named as if I was an international travel writter who told people of the magical, slightly challenging climb of Fansipan, I would would find it a pretty Lonely f£&@ing Planet too!!Blissfully unaware we set off with our tour guide (a 12year old in trainers) and our trusted Sherpa (a late 50s local man, sporting a pair of ancient flipflops, one good eye and what would later be discovered - a worring lack of bedding/items to ease the hyperthermic conditions we would subsequently endure!).
As we started the walk, all seemed well. At one point Holly famously noted "ohhh, it's like a slightly hillier version of the New Forest"!! After about 2hours we passed into Base Camp 1, a local "village" (population: 9) consisting of 2 huts (made from bamboo covered tarpaulin) - one for cooking and one for sleeping. As Billy Connelly would say, "the tea and toilet facilities left a lot to be desired", with the toilet being a bamboo platform teetering over the edge of a cliff, surrounded by the deposits of those feeling less brave!!
Despite this the villagers seemed to be friendly enough and we left thinking that if Base Camp 2 was the same, then things could have been alot worse!
As we would discover in about 4 hours time, things could have been alot worse and at Base Camp 2, they were!
However, separating us and Base Camp 2 was the "quite challenging" "rough terrain". Hopefully what the picture to the left captures is the almost unrelenting sheer climb endured to reach the top of Fansipan. Whilst the "book of lies" is correct in saying you don't need any rope of techical equipment, it would make scrabbling up the vertical dried out river bed that is "the path" somewhat easier. It would also mean your faith is put into something a bit more reliable than the nearest bamboo branch, as you dangle over another bottomless ridge-edge praying the flimsy bit of vegetation you find yourself clinging onto does snap!During all this, our 12year old guide and bung-eyed Sherpa, would point out distant lands/things of interest. To be fair, whilst these were viewed with an almost unbearable urge to club our guides to death, the beautiful weather meant we were treated to some breathtaking (quite literally) views of Northern Vietnam.
We eventually got to Base Camp 2 around 4pm. At a lofty 2400m above sea level there was a bit of a nip to the air but we worried not as we'd been assured that ol' Popeye had brought everything we would need for a comfortable nights slumber!
Similar to Base Camp 1, Base Camp 2 consisted of two huts. However, this time there was a well made smaller hut and a rather larger second hut made from corrugated iron. We initial thought Hut 2 was used to house the mountain buffalo the locals keep on Fansipan and so set about investigating Hut 1.
Hut 1 was constructed using the same bamboo cover tarpaulin technology seen at Base Camp 1. Sporting a small dining area, seperate kitchen area and two seperate sleeping areas, lavishly heaped with warm blankets and soft matting, we began to look forward to a well earned nights rest!
They say to assume is to make an "ass out of u and me", and what a couple of asses we must of looked as old Pudsy the Sherpa lead us off into Hut 2 with two summer sleeping bags and a tarpaulin to put under us to help keep the wind off our backs!
In contrast to Hut 1, the interior to Hut 2 was split into two raised bamboo platforms, one under each of it's sloping roofs. At both ends of Hut 2 were a set of iron doors. Despite their seemingly steardy looking construction, they would later be discovered as being somewhat sensative to the slightest of breezes and would spend the rest of the night clashing together like a demented 5year old playing the Symbols!! As we continued to inspect our humble abode, we soon noticed that, obscured by a foot-deep layer of rubbish, the underside of the bamboo platforms eventually gave way to a bamboo latice. The latticed bamboo, as became immediately apparent, had presumably been put in place by previous travellers in a desperate attempt keep the wind from whistling through to the gap between Hut 2's walls and the ground!!
Taking things in good spirit, we went to Hut 1 for dinner and at around 9pm headed to Hut 2 to get some sleep. Upon leaving the warmth of Hut 1's bamboo fire and entering Hut 2, we were met first by a rat the size of a small car and then by the frost enducing temperatures we would bare witness to all night!
In a desperate bid to get warm we adoned all items of clothing (including water proofs) and clambered into our summer sleeping bags. Whilst we were, to a certain extent, able to ignore the mice and rats that scuttled all around/over us and the demented "musically gifted" 5year old that was Hut 2's metal doors in the gale like winds, the unbearably painful, uneven bamboo platform on which we lay, was not so easy to ignore. Given the sub zero temperatures and next to useless sleeping bags, we both spent the night like a pair of Stevie Wonder tribute artists - gritting our teeth and manically wraithing around in our sleeping bags in a desperate attempt to get warm!
After the longest night of our lives, 6am arrived!!
After thawing ourselves apart and breakfast, we headed for the peak of Fansipan.
The climb would see us scale vertically upwards to 2950m, then vertically downwards to 2650m and then back up (again vertically) to 3143m! After 2hours we made it and were treated to the most satisfying view of....cloud and wind-tunnel-like conditions! At one point we were expecting Piglet to fly past yelling "P, P, Poooooohhhh"!! Thankfully the one foot Budda, that had been set in concrete to the otherwise bleak mountain top, smiled favorably upon us and we were treated to the views we had so deservedly earned and been promised!The climb down Fansipan was almost a depressing as the climb up, only this time the vertical ups were vertical downs and vice versa! This was actually slightly harder, as rather than baring our backs to the endless cliff-edges, we were now meeting them face on as we bounced down the mountain side like lanky Gummy Bears!!
After another 2hours we stopped at Base Camp 2 for lunch. A shadow of our former selves, in desperate need of a good nights sleep and double knee replacements, we reached Base Camp 1 four hours later.
Dinner was again in a very well constructed hut similar to Hut 1 at Base Camp 2. During dinner our 12year old tour guide challenged us to a drinking contest using their local moonshine. After 4 shots, he got up, pitched backwards into the sleeping quarters and started humming softly!
We took this as our que to go to bed in the second hut. Thankfully Hut 2 and Hut 1 were almost identical in their construction. Hut 2, however, was where the entire village slept, togther...including the local couple who would later come in and dive behind the netted curtain and start giggling.. and the man who liked to sleep with the village radio on full blast...and the man who liked to smoke something that looked like a giant bamboo bong before going to bed...and the man who smelt like he'd been charged with building the new village toilet facilities!! Still at least we weren't cold.
After being threatened with having his beloved radio lodged so far up his arse that even the rickety long drop toliet facilities wouldn't scare it back out of him, we got down to a much better nights sleep.
Come the morning we woke up to a very grumpy looking village, which we can only assume didn't sleep very well on account of one/both of us snoring!!
Day 3 was a doddel and 2hours after breakfast we were finally back where we'd started. Thirty minutes later we'd been motorbiked back to Sapa and were both having hot showers, looking back on our magical, authentic experience!
The rest of the afternoon was spent shuffling round Sapa town like a pair of half shut Swiss Army knives and getting some sulpplies for the night train back to Hanoi.
No comments:
Post a Comment