The rain could be heard all night pattering on the roof above our communal dormitory. On waking, the drizzle was still there and we could see the mist hanging in the distance. The air has a decided chill on it reflecting the elevation above sea level, about 800m.
Shortly after leaving the hotel and passing though Sa Pa again, which seems chaotic and a sea of mud after the rain, Gerard decides to go his own way. Actually he stopped for a picture and then lost the group. Tang, who'd stopped to wait for him was also disconnected. Our group stopped for a count and on discovering the two were missing, Ta contacted Tang and arranged to meet at the next town. We are not using the famous 'corner man' technique so I'm surprised this doesn't happen more often.
Learning from yesterday's experience descending from altitude in the cold mist, I'm layered up with Gore-tex and winter gloves, and I'm thankful I did as we climb into the clouds and absorb the mountain mist - the Gore-tex and layers do their job and keep me comfortable.
People don't seem so responsive to waves today, perhaps it's the weather or maybe the fact that we're in a tourist area. We see many groups of 'western' tourists and wave at them too. Some wave back, a few glare and a few look like they want to join us. At one stop a quick squeeze of Piggy (attached to my bike) brings order to a tourist family about to suffer a kid with a tantrum.
We're up and down the narrow concrete trails through the hills. These must make life so much easier for people living in the villages as they criss-cross the hills and allow the only practical transport, the trusty step-through moped, to more easily connect with the main roads. Quite how long they last rainy season after rainy season is unclear, but they are regularly punctuated by muddy sections or even streams, so probably no more than a few years.
The hills are heavily terraced and because the soil is clay based water fills each level. These are ideal conditions for growing rice and you can see the plant stalks sticking out. The terraces must require a great deal of maintenance to keep them in good order; here they are in good condition, but elsewhere we have seen where they've collapsed. It also seems that where there's significant tourism there is less cultivation. Perhaps the income from tourism means that growing things is less important in those areas.
We pass a dammed lake and cross downstream on a suspension bridge, stopping to take more pictures or at least be takees! Once on the other side there are nice views of the river downstream and a set of small waterfalls that feed into the river bed. While stopped we're passed by a moped rider carrying a set of mattresses, his two wheeled transporter is most definitely a wide load. We pass him later, he's slow, but getting there.
We're definitely seeing more pigs on the road here; what I think are pregnant pigs, someone tells me are actually pot-bellied pigs. A few of the smaller ones are pretty decent runners and one, no bigger than a cat, is a positive rocket running like a fat greyhound alongside the bike; quite comical in fact, but not as fast as Piggy on my bike.
At this point it still feels cool, so the layers stay on me, but others are peeling themselves like onions. After lunch it warms up so even I need to remove a layer, just the one mind you.
There's now a tricky rocky climb. I'd say quite technical, but we manage it without anyone falling off. We're either getting good, or the bikes are flattering our riding. There are some good videos and photos taken during this phase. None of us are expert off-roaders, but we muddle through and can perhaps now at least claim to be experienced off-roaders.
We arrive at our destination Bac Ha at about 3pm having ridden about 160 km; a short day.
Time for some exploration so we all head of wherever our interests take us. There's a market here with fish, meat, fruit and veg, the subject of many a photo. Danny, Graham and Alan were tempted by large sharon fruits that were expertly peeled by a lady with a huge machete - much cheaper than Sainsburys and more entertaining. After their market exertions they retire to a local hotel spa for a one hour torture session with a black belt masseuse with fingers, hands and elbows made of steel.
There's a couple of karaoke places here, but I've yet to tempt any of my hardened biker chums to partake, although that Ray fella looks like he could belt out a few good tunes.
Dinner at a small restaurant a few doors from the hotel was excellent. The sweet and sour crisp fried fish was especially noteworthy, so good in fact, we asked for more.
We're up nearer the Chinese border tomorrow and will need to have all our documentation with us. Apparently international driving permits are not valid in Vietnam, which seems disconcerting, but Ta says it doesn't matter, so long as we have them.
A radio station behind our hotel broadcasts Communist Party news (propaganda) over loud speakers to the entire town. It came on at 17h and went off at 19h. Apparently it comes on again at 6am! Competition for that cockerel again, he's already been practising for the morning.
No comments:
Post a Comment