Bac Ha Market

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Sunday is market day and I had read wonderful things about the Bac Ha Markets where eight different minority tribes gather in traditional dress to sell their wares. We had to leave at 7.30am and the three hour drive caused me considerable discomfort as it wound its way up, down, around and through many mountains. Luckily I wasn't bus sick but when we arrived we plunged straight into market business.

The heat was stiffling and I could feel myself getting more and more grumpy. Poor Sylvia had to put up with my bad temper and I finally realised I needed a break from the heat, smells and closeness to the millions of people there. After a diet coke and some delicious spring rolls I was a different person. By this time the crowd had thinned and as we took a second ap around the market place I had a much more positive outlook.

throuhout this trip I had been planning of spending a bit of cash on some lovely, unusual things in Sapa and after i realised I would be around for the bac ha Markets I was looking forward to doing some shopping. This wasn't to be and I only bought $1.50 worth of souveriers as each stall sold exactly the same as the others. It was a big let down to know that only a few years ago amazing wares on offer is now reduced to quite simply put- crap.

The bus ride back down the hill was more sickening that the ride up. I controlled myself well but it was an effort and a half. On the way home we stopped at the China border and it was slighly interesting to see just a few metres away the Chinese flag and symbols of their lettering.

I was dropped off close to the train station at 5pm. The train didn't leave until 8.15pm so I just chatted to other travellers who were also waiting. At 7.30pm just as I was about to pick up my bag and walk the 300m to the train terminal the power went out and a ferocious dust storm kicked in. Thunder rumbled and the lightning was the only source of light. When the rain began to pelt down kids on the street started screaming, the traffic got crazier tooting more than ever and there was a frenzy from the shop sellers who were rushing to protect their cart's contents. As I ran to find my train compartment I got completely drenched. Luckily I was able to change into some warm clothes otherwise the 10 hour journey back to Hanoi would have been very unpleasant.
The only thing to add is that is where my bad luck began.
Next installment: Chloe sheds first Asian tears.

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