Clouded mountains...

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Our first experience of organised travel packages got off to a not too fabulous start... the guy who came to pick us up trying to rip the commission rates. Generally quite embarrassing when a whole bus-load of others are waiting while you argue your case on the street. Finally got on the bus to find some unimpressed Germans wearing top-to-toe hiking gear staring at us in distaste. Hols friendly enquires as to everyones origins and plans produced frosty responses from all but a lovely Spanish couple who I swear must have been related as they looked exactly alike. Arrived at the train station to be herded by the tour operator into the building. Defs not a fabs start. Felt like cattle. Live and learn... Finally got out to where the trains left from; no station as such. Looked like a scene from Slumdog; amazing! Again; capering around and singing Paper Planes really didnt go down well with most of the passengers... After a comfy nights sleep on the train we then got on a bus that chugged us up up up into the mountains, winding and spluttering around the tight mountain bends. Sa Pa is a hangover from the French Colonial era, where rich women used to escape the heat and bustle of the city. As you traverse up to the peaks you can imagine them all sitting out on the verandas of their white-washed mountain villas wearing ruffled white dresses, sipping tea from bone china whilst locals stand behind with parasols...

Our hostel was in an ideal location; with a view down the valley (photos to follow). High peaks shrouded in a mythical cloud tower above terraced rice plantations that dot the lower foothills. Brushing your teeth on the terrace in a lackidaisical manner with this view is simply, ahhhhhhh. The air feels like such an enormous relief after the smog of Ha Noi. Yesterday we were woken by locals practising haunting traditional music for the 'love market' that evening (more of that later); a perfect soundtrack for some early-morning sun salutation yoga. We then went on a trek led by local women in thick traditional dress; hung about with paraphernalia to sell to unwitting tourists. They all carry umbrellas to protect them from the sun. As a result their faces are smooth as westerners half their age; defying the back-breaking labor that is their daily rountine. They took us down into the valley basin; past rice harvesters, buffalo wallowing in mud pools and tiny half-naked tots playing in the dust amidst chickens and small pigs. There were hundreds of dragonflies-yellow flitterings like falling leaves caught in a breeze. It brought to life that idealist picture that you have in your brain but that never quite makes it to fruitation; literally the first time in my life this has happened. Two days of trekking, and no mature or old dogs to be seen, we discovered the average canine life expectancy to be 5 years.

Returning to Sa Pa village that afternoon we then saw the 'love market' that evening that consisted of girls from local tribes dancing with parasols to music from a traditional instrument made of bamboo and gaoud that I cannot for the life of me remember the name of and have completely failed to find on tinternet. Men watch with interest and from what we could gather, express that they would like to take this interest further by stepping in and chatting to the boys playing the instruments; must research this more as I'm sure it's not as sordid as I'm making it sound!

Back to Ha Noi on Monday. Personally (Kat) vibrating at a very high velocity at the moment as potentially have two make-or-break job interviews followed by dummy lessons on Monday in Ha Noi... Wish me luck! Hols is planning on getting a bus to Halong Bay where Kat is gunna meet her maybe on Tuesday... bring on the beaches!

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