On snails, showers, sticky situations, Sapa’s spectacular sights, and then some.

I cannot immediately recall how long it has been since we set off for Sapa. Being ensconsed in the mountains away from the urban life has been a largely magical experience. Here are snippets of our Sapa getaway, from our departure to our return to Hanoi.

On squishy, springy, tasty snails

The evening we left Hanoi, Elgin, Zihao and I chanced upon a roadside stall selling this snail-like food. It was very popular with the locals. Tables has been set up even across the street and upon sharing a bowl, we understoood why.

A generously filled large bowl of snails cost a mere 20,000 VND (approx SGD 1.70) and comes with lime dip. The snails are boiled alive on the spot, so they come to you fresh and hot. To eat one, you use the provided tin shard to dig the flesh out of its shell. The flesh is tasy and springy and fun to chew on.

However, simple digging is not quite enough to get all of the flesh within the shell, as I found out after some time. You need to twirl the shell in order that the inner, softer meat can be pulled out. Yet this doesn’t always work, for the meat in question is soft and thus wont to separate and remain forevermore irretrievable, stuck within the shell. So twirling the snail comes with a good deal of suspense and thrill. It is mot gratifying when one succeeds in getting out all the flesh. I think it’s somewhat sadistic and it appeals to my primal nature. For the adventurous and unsqueamish, snail in Hanoi make a great snack; they’re tasty and eating them is good fun at unbeatable value.

 

On showers (or lack thereof, to be precise)

We started our journey to Sapa with an overnight train ride. There are no showers on the train, so Elgin and I powder bathed instead. Military lore saved our smelly asses; powder is most useful when one cannot shower. Chin Wee and Zihao just slept as their sweaty, dirty, grimy selves. Gross things.

As the train rode on the rails, it rattled loudly, constantly. The bunks were short and fit me just nicely. Taller ang moh tourists will just die. Maybe the beds are an ingenious torture device for some dwarf train designer to inflict suffering upon tall people who board his trains. I slept fitfully.

We were told that due to the rain, train travel to Lao Cai, our original destination, had been disrupted. The exact cause was mysteriously unexplained (landslide? flood? mass rain dance? conspiracy?) Our train instead pulled into Pho Lu at an ungodly 5am and we were immediately accosted by a horde of minivan/bus/taxi touts. It was utter mayhem. One tout in particular was THE royal pain in the ass. He was ugly to boot. He was painfully persistent and kept badgering us. He kept changing his prices too, eventually offering to take us to Lao Cai for free.

As all economists should know, there is no free lunch and this was indeed proven to be the case when we called his bluff by boarding his minivan. The price instantly became 60,000 VND and when we refused to pay, he pushed us off the bus. His inconsistency was disgusting. We eventually took a rickety old bus to Lao Cai for 50,000 VND each. At least there were locals and other tourists on the same bus so we knew we would be going somewhere useful and could gang up on the bus driver/conductor should they try anything funny.

Yet, anarchy ensued on the bus when the other tourists realised that they had to pay 50,000 VND each too. They had the mistaken impression, as we initially did, that the train company would charter shuttle buses to send them to Lao Cai for free. We found out from a friendly and helpful local on the same bus that we actually needed to exchange out train ticket for a bus coupon to get the free ride. It was all highly farcical and I think, a classic result of miscommunication in a land that speaks a foreign language. Perhaps we’re too used to clear directions and systems that pamper the customer. Independent travel exposes our inadequacies and forces us to fend for ourselves.

 

On Sapa’s spectacular sights

Sapa, a mountainous region in Northwest Vietnam, is populated by hilltribes. It is breathtakingly gorgeous. Hilltribe people live, farm, work and play in a secret (or used to be) valley flanked by hills and cloud shrouded mountains. Because it is nestled within the embrace of surrounding mountains, it seems like some hidden, magical wonderland. Verdant rice terraces, silver streams and rivers, gray rock, green forest, rust-coloured crops, and houses in white, red and brown coat the undulating landscape. Life here is simple and pastoral. I now feel like being a farmer.

On serendipity and the Seirei no Moribito soundtrack

I listened to the Seirei no Moribito OST on the ride to Sapa. It is already an excellent OST, but listening to it while gazing upon the valley was remarkably appropriate. SnM (haha) is an anime about a female bodyguard and a young prince under her protection. Much of the anime takes place in a rural pastoral setting, so the tunes of the OST are suitably evocative of agriculture – rice planting in particular. Listening to it was unplanned and very serendipitous. SnM is great, even epic. Go watch.

On school field trips

Sapa is an excellent place for a geography fieldtrip. Walking through the valley and the villages, I recalled what I learnt from both physical and human geography classes.

From the mountains – tectonics and rocks. From the vegetation – trees and forest types. From the river – river processes. From the agricultural activity and hilltribe settlements – human geeography. Almost everything is applicable! So Sapa is both great fun and amazingly educational! It’d have been very nice to have had a field trip there. I’d want my kids to learn their geography there. Teachers-to-be, please take note.

On climbing

I enjoy climbing while on holiday. Clambering over rocks in Sihanoukville was very enjoyable and so was traversing the spurs and hills in Sapa. We trekked 14 km on our first day in Sapa to the hoimestay. on the second day, it rained, so we walked through mud trails and climbed up and down slippery slopes. This little ditty popped into my mind as I was sploshing through the mud.

Mud, mud, glorious mud. Nothing quite like it for cooling the blood. So follow me, follow, Down to the hollow. And there we will wallow, in glorious mud.

I forget where I learnt it.

Though it was treacherous at times and a bit dirty (understatement I think), it was quite exhilarating. It’s like the childhood I never had.

On the price of goodwill

The hilltribe people that we encountered were warm and friednly. Although admittedly they do have an interest in earning the tourist dollar, their smiles and certainly warm and welcoming. As we walked theough the villages, groups of hilltribe women would attach themselves to us. They acted as personal guides, engagin us in limited conversation, making amazing trinkets for us from ferns that they pluck and were especially helpful during our trek. All of them were women because, as one of them unabashedly explained, the men work in the fields while the women go out to make money (from us). A few of them had babies tightly strapped to their backs. All babies are cute, but hilltribe babies are also very well-behaved, uttering nary a cry throughout the time their mothers were guiding us around.

Each group would accompany us for some distance (till the borders of their village I reckon). They were so nice that when the time came to part, I felt that I could not refuse the requests of my personal guides to buy the handicrafts they had made. So despite not actually wanting the handicrafts, I’d oblige them by buying something small as appreciation for their effort and to contribute to the local economy. I call this the price of goodwill.

On the remembrance of dates

On holiday, dates are of little significance. Names (Monday, Tuesday, …) and numbers (26/7, 28/7,…) mean little. What matters is today, tomorrow, the day after, and maybe so on. “What are we doing? Where are we going? What do I need to prepare?” are the important questions. Ask me what day it is and I will probably be unable to reply. After all, there’re no projects or assignments due.

Experiences seem to blend. I cannot place them distinctly in time or give them a date. Some stand out and it is these I write about.

On what comes next

CRAZY 10 hour bus ride to Hue. May the relevant authority have mercy on our sore asses.

And I still havn’t found a nice chance to upload photos.