Part 7: A Walk on the Wild Side : back to Hoàng Su Phì

Back to Part 6

Kiss goodbye to the luxury that is the Majestic hotel with their hot water and sumptuous breakfasts. Grab bike to the airport, VietJetAir on time to Pleiku, Grab bike to my hotel carefully chosen to be close to a good looking vegetarian restaurant run by Buddhist nuns. All perfectly executed. Bag dropped and off to explore. The given address is a building under renovation. A little sad and more than a little hungry, I consult the happy cow and it seems like Tăng Bạt Hổ Street is the place to be. Nine vegetarian restaurants within 100m. Nine! Count them.

There are many like it, but this one is mine

The first one I try is so good, cheap and welcoming that the others remain untried. Only two magic words are needed here. Ăn cơm. 15k. Hard to complain about the price and there's nothing to complain about in terms of quality.

A poster of 'famous' people adorns the wall. With the text "Thông Minh xinh đẹp, tài năng. Họ là những người trường chay. Tại sao bạn lại không?"

Smart, beautiful, talented?

As I ate, I played a Snog, Marry, Avoid type game as I tried to categorize the celebrities into Smart, Beautiful, Talented. Only King Charles and Arnie failed to qualify in any category.

I have come to Pleiku with little research. Good coffee and never having been here before were reason enough. I check online for the top attractions. Chư Đăng Ya Volcano comes in at number 2. That sounds good.

I head back to the market and find a xe ôm, rapidly conclude negotiations and we're off. 30 km out of town. This would be a great place to explore by bicycle. I make a mental note for next time. Lovely countryside and interesting looking villages.

Cycling country for old men

My xe ôm seems to have no idea on how to get to the local volcano and we take a little longer than necessary to get there. In his defence, it isn't a large volcano and it's not been active for quite some time. Finally we arrive at the carpark. Like everything in Pleiku, this looks more than large enough to cope with the demand. Entrepreneurs are selling cold drinks and offering a ride on the back of a dirt bike up and down the muddy track to the top for 50k. I leave my xe ôm to settle down for a chat and am whisked to the top behind a young lady completely unfazed by the bike slithering beneath us in the mud.

Dirt track to the top

Pleiku's number 2 attraction

Slither back down on a bike behind a young man and settle down for a drink after the excitement. They have a lot of cold beer, but eventually find me a soft drink. We play guess your age. I underestimate theirs. They underestimate mine. It looks as if there is a definite best time of year for the volcano, and this is maybe not it, but it was worth the trip.

Back into town, I pay off my xe ôm and he invites me for a coffee in the back of the watch repair shop where there is a den. A glass of coffee is produced. Perfect. An open tin of condensed milk. Perfect. He dips his hands into a coolbox and brings them out full. "Bạn có muốn đá không?" I'm fine without ice. He offers to drop me off anywhere in town. Free. But, I like walking. Grab has taken away the human interaction that was common with xe ôm and we've lost something along the way.

As I often do, I visit the Martyrs' Cemetery. Here thousands of mainly young martyrs are buried. The place is immaculately kept.

Part 6: A Walk on the Wild Side : back to Hoàng Su Phì

Back to Part 5

Sán Sả Hồ​ seems like the perfect place for one last night. One apparent homestay and very little else. Lovely countryside along the way.

Goldener every day

I arrive in Sán Sả Hồ at 11:30 as school comes out. My google navigation goes to 0m outside a house. No sign to say it's a homestay, but there's no other obvious candidates.

I go in. Lovely people. Tea is served. The mother goes off, leaving me to drink my tea. I chat with the heavily pregnant daughter. Family. My solo walking activities. She says something I can't quite catch. I give her the phone to google translate. From the ether, the google voice intones, somewhat wistfully I thought, "Don't you have any friends?". I collapse with laughter. In reality, more every day. I have a nap and go explore the area. Google congratulates me on my heart workout.

Weeks worth of excercise done by Monday afternoon

I had lunch, dinner, a place to sleep and breakfast. The mother has gone to work. I ask the daughter how much I owe. She doesn't know. Can we phone your mother? She knows the number, but she says she doesn't use the phone. Maybe they're not talking. I don't know. Another phone call. I say I am leaving and ask what I owe. 200k. A bargain. I will come here again. Maybe I could give them some marketing tips. Start with a sign, maybe.

My shortcuts on the way back to Su Phì only add a few extra km to the trek back, which is not at all unusual. I stop off at the same drinks place down near the bridge as on the way up. The lady is pleased to see me. When will you be back? "Năm sau". Her face lights up. It's a beautiful smile. She tells the old couple all about me. It's not coffee country up here, but I can live with that. And now, I'll have to come back. They're expecting me.

All too soon, I am back in Hoàng Su Phì. There is a bus for Hà Giang getting ready to go. I have walked 180km since getting off the bus here and it is probably starting to show. I get a drink and change my socks, and shirt as I try to look just a little more respectable. The bus does the usual beetling round town picking up goods and people and we're off back down the hill. Once down on the QL2 highway the complicated transhipment dance begins again until suddenly it's my turn. Jump off one bus and on to another bus I am whisked back to Mỹ Đình and catch a Grab bike back to my usual hotel. Left Sán Sả Hồ​ at 07:35, arrived at my hotel in Hanoi 22:26. I call that pretty good.

I'm already missing Su Phì. Sleep like a log.

Breakfast from my usual bánh mì place, then off to buy some new clothes. Hot shower and change and I feel like a new man. And coffee. Days since I've had a coffee. Down to Blue Dragon to meet up with the now recovered Hoa and hand over some cash from my daughter. We have a long chat.

Off to Sài Gòn tomorrow to spend some time with an old friend. Hà Nội is fairly unscathed by the pandemic. Let's see how Sài Gòn has fared.

The 86 bus has a stop just across from my hotel - that's why I first stayed there. 45 minutes later I'm back at the airport.

At checkin, I am directed to a very short queue.

Didn't ask my age. Maybe took me for a revolutionary...

VietJetAir didn't care that my name was the wrong way round. There's something about their website that leads me to get it wrong more often than not. On time and great to be back in Sài Gòn.

Bus into town. Sài Gòn seems to have suffered more than Hà Nội with closed up shops plastered in for sale/rent signs. But it's still bustling. Masks seem more popular here. I go with the flow, joining in when necessary.

Opportunities abound if you have the cash

Quieter than before

But Vietnam will recover. It always does. After the rain, it shines.

180,000 đồng for a beer I don't think we're in Su Phì any more

Maybe I was paying for the view

Great to see another longstanding friend again. Lunch at Hum, drinks at Landmark 81, Dinner at the Loving Hut and lordy, how we talked. A lot of catching up to do. A lot of catching up done.

Wherever I lay my hat...

I still have a couple of days to fill. Where can I go? Where haven't I been before? Hmm. Pleiku. That's coffee country. Perfect.

On to Part 7

Part 5: A Walk on the Wild Side : back to Hoàng Su Phì

Back to Part 4

Quảng Nguyên. Again I am the only guest at this homestay, but a sign in the town shows that there are 13 homestays within 1km.

Mucho competition for the tourist dollar

I guess my man is the only one lucky enough to have a guest tonight. Unmade road, absence of street lights, this is not an easy place to make a living.

Main street, Quảng Nguyên

View from the bridge

Sorting tea among the rebar

I get a nước mía at the market. And then, for the first time this trip, the skies opened and the rains came. My as yet unneeded poncho is in my bag back at the homestay. I settle down to wait for it to pass. After the rain it shines. I am reminded of Mark Bowyer's (of Rusty Compass) excellent poster promoting Vietnam from 1991.

After the rain it shines

Here he is talking about it. Well worth checking out his other videos too. I think I've caught what he's got.

Another feast with my host. 20km to Nà Chì tomorrow. I hope somebody's home. The road from Su Phì to here has been perfect. I send pictures to my son recommending it on his next motorbike trip. Once out of town, it's road construction all the way.

Two feet good. Two wheels bad.

Maybe he should wait a year or two until it's done. On foot, it's fine. The homestay in Nà Chì is deserted. I phone the number and announce my arrival. I'm getting braver on the phone, but it's pretty much a one way conversation. I can speak. Understanding what's being said at speed over the phone isn't so easy. Somebody turns up and shows me a space.

Time to see if anybody is home up the road. I head up to the edge of town. The house has been extended over the years since the wooden shack I first visited. But the front is still open to the road. I wander in. Nobody about. Em ơi! time again. The younger son emerges, sleepy from a nap and recognizes me. He calls his mother. She emerges sleepy from a nap. We hug, so happy to see each other again. She breaks off. I'm not done hugging. What's going on? The cat has brought in a snake! The cat is having a good time and the injured snake has no chance of escape. The son dispatches it with a blow to the head. It's time for tea. My friend has to call up relatives to announce my arrival. I face time the elder son, now a student in Hanoi, and many people I don't know. Two can play at this, I think. I face time my son in Australia and get him to join the fun. He has a fine beard that I've not seen before.

My walking must be showing. I am invited to have a nap. When I awake, her husband is home. Son invites me down to the Secondary School where he has a football game to play. Boys turn up on their motorbikes ready for the game. The No Smoking signs on school grounds are much ignored. I am invited to join in. The smoking. "No, no, no, no, no", I say, wagging my finger. They find this hilarious and I have to repeat the performance for those that missed it. Later in town, they'll want an encore. I am invited to join in the match. Age and sandals and common sense leads me to turn the offer down. I can't compete with the exhuberance of youth.

Home for tea. There are small signs that times have been tough here.

During the meal, vợ shows me a google translate on her phone. "Please excuse the modest meal, family circumstances have been hard." I am invited to stay with them, but I explain that my stuff is already at the homestay. My son has stayed with them before, but I don't like to impose or cause any problems with the local police. After the meal, vợ and I head into town for the excitement that is the Tết Trung Thu - the children's festival.

How much fun could you handle?

I chat with a teacher from the school. He has good English. He teaches English. "You must come into the school and I'll show you round". We agree to meet in the morning.

At a quiet moment, I say to my friend, "You must let me give you something towards the meal." A complicated game of no, yes ensues as my 200k note is passed back and forth. She stuffs it in my pocket. I stuff it in hers. Finally it stays in her pocket. The imbalance in wealth is difficult to manage between friends. I head back to my deserted homestay and a well earned sleep. Next morning, I find a 200k note in my pocket. I only had one. In the pass the parcel game in the dark, what did she end up with? 10k? This is not good. What would she think of me.

Up to the school for 08:00 as planned. I call up my teacher friend and am taken in for tea. "You must meet some of my students". Two 13 year olds are brought into the staff room for English conversation with me. No such thing as a free lunch. One is a little nervous and shy, but the other is a fairly confident speaker. I agree to come in for longer next time.

My planned walk done, I negotiate with a xe ôm for a ride to Bắc Hà for the market tomorrw. He's not keen. "Quá xa". "Trời sắp mưa rồi". I have used this xe ôm in previous years and, for the business he's in, he's a bit of a home lovin' man. He grudgingly agrees to take me as far as Xín Mần. That will have to do. I stop off at my friends' house to sort things out. Nobody about. I have no pen on me. What to do. I leave a 500k note under a glass on the table. I will write when I get home and explain. I have no problems negotiating money in Vietnam, or, much to my children's horror, even in the UK. I have no problem giving to charity, but between friends when one side is suffering, it's just so awkward.

We arrive in Xín Mần and the the expected rain hasn't come. My xe ôm offers to carry on to Bắc Hà. The Xín Mần - Bắc Hà road is stunning. This was all but impassible when I first visited the region. It's now a great road surface all the way. My feet enjoy the rest, but I get off the bike stiff from the trip.

The market is a lot quieter than I remember. Harvest time is the explanation I'm given. There are very few foreign tourists about. I self debate settling down and walking round the local markets in the area, but the market days aren't right and my feet aren't keen. I debate getting down to Lao Cai for the train. There are berths available. Not quite ready for Hanoi, I check out of my hotel, walk 5 metres and negotiate a ride back to Su Phì and check back into my usual hotel.

Heading up to the market to get another nước mía, I see two French girls trying to negotiate with a xe ôm to take them somewhere. I don my shining armour and ask what they're looking for. They want to go to take some pictures and are pointing to Ruộng Bậc Thang Hoàng Su Phì on the map on their phone and trying to get a ride there. There seems to be some confusion - the xe ôm isn't great with maps, and I'm not even sure the map pin is a real place. It's just 'Rice Terraces'. I suggest they go to the Sky View homestay where there's plenty of photo opportunities and rice terraces around and sort out a clear deal for two xe ôm. "Is that a good price?" they ask. "It's a good price," I say. "You could get it cheaper, but everyone needs to eat." They've been in Vietnam 3 days and have been to Bắc Hà for the market then arrived in Su Phì by fairly expensive taxi. They had been all set to do the usual tourist trail when they'd switched to exploring the north. Finally somebody who is doing Vietnam right on their first trip. One more trek and then I'll be ready for Hanoi.

On to Part 6

Part 4: A Walk on the Wild Side : back to Hoàng Su Phì

Back to Part 3

I've been to Su Phì a few times and, coffeed and loaded up with water and bananas, I'm soon off. Over the river and head for Bản Luốc and my first home stay. Road is pretty quiet. A few motorbikes an hour scoot past. A couple of them slow down and offer me a lift. "Tôi thích đi bộ," I say. Given the choice between a motorbike and walking, I'm definitely in a minority here. "Where are you going?" says one young lady, offering me a lift. "Bản Luốc". "I live in Bản Luốc, maybe see you there," she says. I wave goodbye.

On the way to Bản Luốc

I arrive in Bản Luốc, a little hot and ready for lunch. Bản Luốc is a pretty small place. Well, maybe not a pretty small place, but a small place nonetheless. I sit on a wall by the post office and dig into my bag for lunch. A young boy turns up with an ice cold energy drink for me. The girl from the motorbike turns up a few moments later with some fruit. "Is this your son?" She laughs. "Brother." It's hard to judge ages in Vietnam. Well, it's hard for me, but she takes it well. And there's a continual battle to stop marriages involving girls who are under 18 or boys under 20. Posters round the region warn of the disadvantages and the punishments available.

20 for boys, 18 for girls. Still a work in progress.

I dig out the details of my homestay and check the map. Word has got around and the local policeman turns up. He points the way. I am dubious. He seems certain. We set off together. I don't think he gets much excitement in an average day and he seems happy to escort me to my homestay. Down down down we go. I am increasingly convinced that we're heading for the wrong homestay. We arrive at Nậm Lỳ Retreat. That was definitely not what I booked. I'm looking for Bản Luốc House. Much confusion. My Vietnamese isn't up to this. I get Diệp on to it by phone. I'm in the right place. It's just got the wrong name. I don't know anymore, but they've got tea, cool beer, great views, rice terraces. This is good. I settle in. This is what I came for. I dump my stuff and go exploring. Time well spent.

A fine place to drink tea

Viettel covers the land

Still somewhat jet lagged I have two days here. I can see the Skyview Khánh Đinh homestay up the hill. Time to see what the view from there looks like. I hike up through the forest and rice terraces, getting lost along the way. The sun is beating down and their cats are zonked out on the concrete.

Hot enough to zonk a cat

A cold Coke is forthcoming, but I have no change. The view is stunning. I book in for tomorrow. I'll pay you tomorrow, I say. No problem.

Back the next day for my first bit of real off road walking. Drop off my bag at SkyView.

Maybe the cats were knocked out by the view

Head off to see some rice. It's nice.

Old habits...

Breakfast time.

A fine place to have breakfast

Decision time. Jet-lag is gone. Walking is not a problem. I can do this. Routine becomes walk to next homestay, drop bags, explore, fantastic food and just the right quantity of rice wine with my new hosts. Perfect.

Every homestay is empty, so I'm happy to be the first sign of recovery for them. Along the way, I am invited in for tea, or just a rest in the shade. This is not coffee country and many homestays don't run to coffee or cold beer, but tea is fine. Finally I hit the 30km stretch.

The road less travelled

Pursuing it with weary feet

A lot of the route is a zig zag through the hills with no real shortcuts due to the steep terrain. Every time I take a picture, my phone suggests that maybe I should take a panorama. It's not wrong. As I walk, I see something happening in the distance at an isolated house. Robes, drums, people. I look up the words for funeral and wedding and prepare my question. As I get nearer, I can see that it's not a wedding, but I have been seen. I ask my carefully prepared question to a lady standing by. "Đây là một đám cưới hay một lễ tang?" "Lễ tang"" she says, "Xin mời vào"

The wooden house is dark and cool. Huge chunks of what is recognizably an ex-pig are cooking as the women bustle around preparing a feast. Neighbours are turning up in their finery. I go sit up at the far end with the old men drinking tea. It's not at all a sad affair. But it's not my affair and it didn't look like they were expecting any vegetarians. I am invited to stay for the feast, but I don't want to put them out. I know they would be happy to rustle something up for me, but this is not the day for that. I explain I have to go since I have miles to go before I sleep. I feel very privileged to have met them and will call in again next time. The camera never lies, but it often intrudes and so many times along the way, I collected special memories and, as recommended by the magisterial Mr Fripp, used my ears to record and my eyes to video them.

I already knew it in my heart, but walking is the perfect holiday speed. There is always time to stop and stare and I am at one with the landscape. This turns into a 35km day thanks to the ever helpful "Vâng" in reply to a navigational question.

But finally I find my target homestay. I am shown my sleeping quarters in a huge house, dump my bags and settle down for a nap. I wake to silence and a deserted house. I explore and then open the thick wooden doors to go out. My sandals have gone. Left on the door step and my only footwear, I am barefoot and alone. Strange. Who would want to take my sandals. They have all but become part of my feet. Surely no-one would want them?

Barefoot, I explore around the area. Ah, there they are. Only slightly chewed. Well, that's good. I hope the dog didn't catch anything. I've had my rabies jabs, so I'm sure I'll be fine.

I slip them on and go off to explore. A waterfall crashing down among the trees gives me my second skinny dip on this trip. Perfect. I drop back down to the road and head back towards the homestay. A roadside shack has drinks. My em ơi! creates some activity. A young pregnant lady comes down and fetches my drink. We chat family and my walking plans. I notice that she's missing a hand. Her mother arrives on a motorbike and my lady calls her husband down to take over as she sets off on her own motorbike, the stump jammed into a stiff glove cable-tied to the handlebar.  I notice the husband is blind. We chat walking plans, then I notice that he too is missing a hand. Undoubtedly just another pair of victims of Vietnam's terrible road accident statistics getting on with life with the quiet dignity that is so common in Vietnam. I count my blessings.

Back to the homestay for a stunning vegetarian feast with my host and extended family. I am having the time of my life. Up with the lark, I call in and stock up with drinks at the drinks shack. The longest leg is over and today is an easy 13km or so down to the river at Quảng Nguyên. And I have yet to see a drop of rain.

On to Part 5

Part 3: A Walk on the Wild Side : back to Hoàng Su Phì

Back to Part 2

My contact at Blue Dragon has tested +ve and it's going to be minimum staff at the office since it's Independence Day, so I arrange to drop off my swag with the security guard and see her on my return to Hanoi. I send her a photo of me standing next to a pile of swag and send it. "Santa!" she replies. One of my many Vietnam rituals is to stop getting hair cuts once I buy my tickets and get a hair cut on arrival. Tickets bought in January. Arrived in September. I head to the barbers a couple of doors down from the hotel. I show him my passport photo. "Make me young again." He starts snipping away. Ông có phải là người Israel không?" he asks. Mistaken for a Jewish Santa, maybe the haircut is overdue.

Jewish Santa?

Coffee and a stroll to fight off the jet lag. Little seems to have changed in Hanoi during the years away. A little quieter maybe, but that's it. I go explore Banana Island. Long may it remain undeveloped. I wander around and stumble on one of the swimming clubs. The Love Red River Club (tricky to say, but maybe the Red River Love Club would attract a different set). Clothes optional. Yes, a swim would be good. I strip off and head down to the river. The water is beautifully cool. I swim about a bit, but stay close to shore. And keep my mouth closed. The braver ones are out in the middle of the river. Where the boats are. Or swimming up to the bridge and back. I can see this being a new ritual along with the first coffee, hair cut and beer. Refreshed and air dried - next time I'll take a towel, I head back along the Long Biên bridge back to town. Only a little younger than the Forth Bridge, but just as iconic. I like bridges.

A good nights sleep considering the jet lag. 20k for my bánh mì ốp la. "Ăn chay," I say. He nods. "Rau,?" he asks. I nod. So good to get my rusty and dusty Vietnamese out. Grab bike to Mỹ Đình. Ask about buses to Tân Quang. Pointed to stance where a bus is just about to go. Perfect timing. Arrive in Tân Quang. Ask about a bus to Su Phì. Various suggestions for a time next morning. Consensus seems to be 6 o'clock. Check into the nearest nhà nghỉ and set out to explore town. Doesn't take long. Happy Cow doesn't have any vegetarian suggestions and I can't see any. I ask around. Pointed to a place pretty much opposite my nhà nghỉ. There is even a sign.

This will do. "Ăn cơm. Ăn chay." 4 magic words. A spread soon appears. A derisory sum paid. And so to bed. Church bells from Hell go off at 05:00.

Great place for a good night's sleep

Up with the lark, the Vomit Comet finally appears. Sets off at 07:50 then proceeds to rendezvous with buses to and from Hà Giang to tranship goods and passengers for about an hour and a half before we actually get underway. And we don't take the usual ĐT177, but head back past Việt Quang to Yên Thành and take the ĐT178 up to Su Phì. Only 25km longer. I doze as we head up the hill. Jet lag taking its toll. So good to arrive back in Su Phì after all that time.

Much needed nước mía at the market

Check into the Tây Côn Lĩnh hotel. I notice that one of the other hotels is still closed and dark.

Off to my usual eaterie. The 4 magic words get a fine meal.

They fetch me a beer from next door and I feel like a king. I have yet to do any walking. Tomorrow will be time enough. I get Diệp to phone a homestay to make sure they've got space. My plan was to get each homestay to book me into the next one as I went. As it turns out, in all but the first, I was the only guest so I just turned up unbooked.

Time for a little explore. Let's not get returned to base by border guard like last time I went to Pố Lồ. I get a xe ôm and we're off to Pố Lũng to visit the old French fort and airstrip. Retained as a monument to their crimes, the blockhouse and many of the tunnels are intact. Nature has long ago consumed any trace of the air strip.

On to Part 4

Part 2: A Walk on the Wild Side : back to Hoàng Su Phì

Back to Part 1

The months of waiting allowed me to prepare. And prepare I did. Points of interest were added to my map. Travelling solo, so I need to be self sufficient. Better get a replacement Garmin to replace the one I lost. And digital maps. And a battery pack in case my phone runs out. And spare batteries for the Garmin. And a charger for them. And my tablet. And scans of old US maps from the early 70's. And a compass. And a whistle. The Vietnamese government has good maps of the whole country, but they're not on general sale and can't be bought without a valid justification. Tôi muốn đi bộ is probably not going to cut it. Water purification tablets. A wind-up torch. In retrospect, maybe two years of hunkering in my bunker away from the pandemic had hit my travelling confidence more than I knew. All made sense to me at the time as I emerged blinking into the sunlight.

Finally, flight day approached. I had my E-Visa in plenty of time and had checked and rechecked that everything was correct. My walking pack was about 6kg and perfectly good as hand baggage everywhere. I also had 20kg or so of gifts in kind for Blue Dragon, an outfit that is very close to my heart. "I can drop you at a train station on my way to work," said my ever patient wife. "That's perfect," I replied. We both travel solo. She looks after Africa, I do what I can for Vietnam. Dropped at the station, train across the iconic Forth Rail Bridge. Last minute shopping in Edinburgh then tram to the airport. Looks like this is happening. I still have a feeling of unease about travelling. Am I ready for this? Is Vietnam ready for this? Is it all going to be masks and distancing and distrust? Not sure I can handle that.

Many hours later, Turkish Airlines disgorges us at Nội Bài. Through immigration in 5 minutes, I wait an hour for my bag. Fortunately customs took no interest in my 20kg of Lego etc. and I was soon out waiting for the #86 bus with my Viettel SIM installed and working. 45,000 đồng these days. Few are wearing masks. Familiar landmarks go past until the traffic slows to a crawl in town. Crammed into the bus, I chat to the charming young lady next to me. She has good English. Her boyfriend doesn't. I get the impression that they've maybe quarrelled over some trivial matter as she all but flirts with someone she should be calling ông, leaving the boyfriend maybe just a little in the cold. Traffic is slow and we chat about family. We always chat about family in Vietnam. We get on to hair colour - one of my sons is ginger. I don't know where she learned her English, but in a perfect accent, she asked, "Do the drapes match the curtains?" I have some phrases in Vietnamese that I can rarely use, but I'm not sure that I need to learn the Vietnamese for that. They're not staying in Hanoi tonight, so we can't do dinner. I get off at my stop and I think that whatever the excluded boyfriend's transgression was, he had been punished enough. As I walk to my hotel, I don't worry about a thing, cause every little thing gonna be all right. It's not going to be masks and distancing and distrust. I'm ready for this. Vietnam is ready for me.

Checked in, showered and off to Namaste Hanoi for dinner with Diệp one of my longest standing friends in Vietnam. So good to see her again. So good to be back in Hanoi. She has a copy of that book I got her to buy for me when it came out. Two years ago. I'd all but forgotten. Pictures from days gone by. Đông Dương Xinh Đẹp Và Kỳ Vĩ - Indo-chine Pittoresque & Monumentale Reprint of the 1909 edition.

Hàng Bạc - Unrecognizable.

The nearly new Long Biên Bridge - little changed.

Food is excellent. She's busy with work and won't be able join me on my trek. I'm not holiday compatible with many people, but Diệp is always the perfect companion. Solo is fine by me, and as it turned out, solo was perfect. As perfect as perfect can be.

On to Part 3

A Walk on the Wild Side : back to Hoàng Su Phì - Part 1

My last pre-pandemic trip was in 2019 with my two youngest children (F13, M7) and, as usual I did my best to show them the best of Vietnam on their first real trip there. I am a bit of a slow traveller and there are many places in Vietnam I have yet to go (looking at you Hạ Long Bay) and many places I have no plans to return to (looking at you Hội An). For me, the best of Vietnam is to be found a little off the track and to be savoured slowly like a fine wine. And to be returned to again and again, like visiting an old and special friend. Thus, we went to Hoàng Su Phì.

Far from the madding crowd

Far from my first time there, but a special memory for the children. My daughter adapted well to the lack of internet and my son took everything in with his usual curiosity. Even the two leeches that latched on when we went swimming. I don't remember the names he gave them.

Little did I know when we flew home on 23rd July 2019 that it would be more than 2 long years before I would be back. Since 1997, Vietnam has been my go to place for holidays every year and sometimes twicely in a year. It's fair to say that Vietnam has taken a big piece of my heart and every time I go, it takes little piece more. Fair also to say that the pandemic years weren't the best years of my life, but all those close to my heart came through if not unscathed, at least relatively intact. March 22nd 2020, Vietnam closed her doors and the waiting for a chance to return began. It would be 723 days until the doors cracked open. By early 2022, I came to believe that they'd reopen soon after the two year anniversary on 22nd March and that flight prices would rise as airlines tried to refill their coffers. I went ahead and booked my flights for September. Late enough for me to be fairly confident that travel would be possible, soon enough for me be able to get through the wait, near enough harvest time for the rice to have a little tinge of gold. A week out in my prediction, Vietnam reopened on 15th March and the long wait to travel could really begin.

But how to mark this return? My treks around our homestay in Hoàng Su Phì had been fine, but with a child of 7 in tow were of necessity short. Maybe I could trek around a few homestays and listen to the rice along the way. I started plotting homestays on a map.

There are quite a few and hopefully, most are still in business. Just how far could I walk? Ah, it's only 60 km to Nà Chì. I can do that. Well, yes, I'm 67 and it'll be hot. And humid. And a little bit steep here and there. And there's a bit of a 30km gap where there's no homestays. I can do that. What's the worst that can happen?

I first visited Hà Giang in 2011, only 14 years after my first trip to Vietnam. As I said, a slow traveller. I arrived in Hà Giang armed with a copy of Lonely Planet and a phone number for a guide I'd picked up from somewhere. They were out of town, but she gave me the number of another guide who was also away. Finally, I got the number of a local guide who was available. We met, concluded a plan and I spent 8 days travelling the region on the back of his bike. Hà Giang in August is truly beautiful. Beautiful in a way that only Hà Giang in August can be. 2012, and I had to come back. My eldest son was then a bicycle fiend, and we set of to explore the region together. He on his trusty bicycle, me on a motorbike. He would set off early and we would meet up for drinks, lunch, drinks until we rendezvoused at the next place to sleep. Thus we came to Xín Mần again. Last time I'd been there, my guide bumped into a friend and we were invited round for tea. Chúc sức khỏe! Một trăm phần trăm! Glass after glass of rice wine was consumed with the meal. I didn't drink for 2 years after that. And used different guides.

My son was in the habit of setting off at the crack of dawn and I'd have a leisurely breakfast and set off later, catching him up along the way and stopping somewhere for a drink and rest. After breakfast on this day, a thick fog descended reducing visibility to maybe 5 meters. Add in steamed up glasses and I was all but blind. Blind on a motorbike on a wet and bad road surface. This was not good. I called him up. "I'm going to be a while until I get out of the fog. Find somewhere to sit and wait for me". My nightmare continued. Am I being too cautious? A 6 inch drop in the road where repairs were under way gave me the answer. Finally, I emerged from the forest, the fog burned off with the sun and I had the splendour that is the DT178 to soak up as I kept my eyes open for a boy and his bicycle. I call him up to get an idea of where he is. "I'm in Nà Chì. I think we're invited to lunch". I have very poor Vietnamese and, then, my son had next to none. How has he managed to get invited to lunch? I pull up alongside a roadside shack selling drinks through a window. Son had stopped for a drink, and, seeing seats and a table inside, thought, "It's a cafe, not just a shop". He had then settled into their living room to enjoy his drink. Over the time I had been struggling through the fog, he, with next to no Vietnamese, had become firm friends with the couple. A sumptuous vegetarian feast was rustled up and we all left having shared a special moment. Every time I go to Vietnam, I am blessed with the kindness of strangers. The best kind of kindness. And that's why I go.

Over the years, we called in every time we were in the area. Sometimes alone, sometimes my son alone (travelling solo is a family thing), sometimes together. And, on my 2019 trip, me, F13, M7 and my eldest son turned up and had a great time. M7 is a Tiến lên fiend and we had great fun with their boys while Mrs prepared the usual feast. Mr was dispatched to snip some peppers and herbs in the garden, but like many husbands everywhere, not without plenty of advice coming from the kitchen. The original wooden shack was slowly replaced by a much larger concrete house as the years went past, but the open front to the street remained.

So, it seemed to me that Nà Chì would lend purpose to my walking rather than wandering aimlessly wandering through the hills. That's where I will walk to. I have a plan.

On to Part 2