The story of Heaven’s Gate is a sad one, and it’s nothing to do with a very poor film with Richard Gere (I think it was him anyway). Some time ago, I can’t remember how long though Loi did tell us, a wandering westerner found a hill tribe village. He claimed to be an angel and that everyone there should worship him.

They did.

This guy then spun a load of lies about how they had all been chosen to ascend to Heaven. All they had to do was sacrifice all their worldly possessions, party to celebrate, build wings for themselves and throw themselves off a cliff. God would help them fly up to Heaven. Sounded like a good deal.

The unsurprising result of this was 120 winged corpses at the bottom of the cliff and the utter decimation of the village. Two people survived and were located by police.

The place they jumped from is called Heaven’s Gate and offers some stunning views (yes, more of them) including – weather permitting – the peak of Fansipan, Vietnam’s tallest mountain at 3143 metres. Fansipan is climb-able (Loi has done it 6 times in various capacities as guide and porter), but it wasn’t on our schedule. Maybe next time! The views from there are almost perfect. Imagine the kind of hills with the kind of trees that the kind of person who makes model railways creates with papiér maché and little models. It’s like that. So perfect you just can’t believe it’s real.

 A few kilometres further down the hill is Tram Ton Pass, the centrepiece of which is the beautiful Silver Waterfall (Thac Bac). It’s 100m tall and a looped pathway has been built around it. This takes you up steps maybe halfway up its height, across a bridge and back down the other side. There is a lake that feeds it which you can swim in, but it would involve climbing the rest of the way without the aid of steps and getting back down could be a problem. We skipped that idea and just gaped and basked instead.

The drive back to Sapa was either in a posh Jeep (actually a Ford Everest) or one of the bouncy Russian jobs. No need to guess which one I went for – bouncy bouncy!

Once back in Sapa, we walked for a while and saw the man-made lake with flower borders. Lunch was calling, though, so we headed back to the main street and into another restaurant similar to the one from the previous night. I had a Vietnamese hamburger which is different from what I’m used to. It’s a small French-bread stick, slit at the side and stuffed with ground beef and herbs. Very nice indeed.

 The service, however, was flipping awful. Everyone bar Andy had finished by the time Loi’s rice arrived – and in the meantime the rest of his food had gone cold. When Andy’s burger finally arrived (after re-ordering) he got halfway through before noticing that come bits were a little bit pinker and colder than one would hope for in a burger. The rest remained uneaten and he got his beer for free.

Our afternoon trek was to a small village in the valley with a motorbike ride back, but Andy and I cried off. I’d had some messages from Lou that she was having problems and needed to try and get hold of her via a cybercafe. Andy, I think, was just pooped and traipsed hotelwards to sit in the sun and turn even redder. My 2 hour online session came to 11000 Dong – not even 50p. And the chap didn’t have enough change so he let me off with the odd 1000. I did get change later in the evening, though, and handed it in to him. Hey, it’s nowt to me but a noteable little sum to the people there.

After the others returned from their walk, luggage was packed and left with the ever-workhard Loi who said he’d arrange to have it all on a bus which would meet us in the town square at 6:30. We walked back uphill to the main strip and wandered. Kate, Dale, Andy and I decided it was about quarter past beer o’clock and found a nice place in the market to sit down and watch the world go by.

Part of this consisted of a horse walking along pooing manically to a laughing crowd, then a man grabbing his son and slapping him as the young boy was trying to get a lump of it onto a large cocktail stick. Kids don’t change wherever you live! We were also accosted by a little old lady who shoved a hat down on Andy’s head and attempted to tie a friendship bracelet to my wrist. After several “No thank you”s and some handing back of these items, she snatched them and literally stormed off muttering under her breath. I think we’re all now cursed.

True to form, Loi and bus turned up at 6:30 and we began the downhill drive to Lao Cai. The only interruption was a young lady with a bout of travel sickness. Fortunately, the bus stopped in time for her to jump out.

We had an hour or so in Lao Cai to get some food from a roadside cafe (it was awful – I had a ham omelette that had enough salt added “to taste” to dehydrate a whale) and Loi failed to get the ticket he needed on our train. Instead, he hopped on the 8:30 train to meet us in Hanoi the next morning. Only his 8:30 train didn’t leave till 9:30, while our 9:15 train left after 10pm.

A quick beer and once again, sleep came a-calling. 

 We awoke at around 8am for breakfast, and what a breakfast. Lunch would be late, we were told, so Loi hadn’t been stingy with the pancake mixture. Carbs and lots of them! Delicious, sweet pancakes. Chocolate condensed milk to smear on them. Fresh, slices banana to be wrapped in them. I only wish my stomach was larger as I could only eat four or five. They certainly set us up well for what would be our longest treck of the trip.

This is the day where we were really glad it hadn’t rained. Much of the walking was up and down dried mud slopes. Even a shower would have made them slippery to the point where they’d be nigh-on impossible to negotiate. This would have been a shame as, once more, we encountered sights to melt the eyeballs with pleasure. Mother Nature obviously has a soft spot for Sa Pa.

 The ladies in our group have a thing for waterfalls and being able to swim at them. Loi had said we’d encounter one early in the walk, but that it wouldn’t be swimable. However. Who cares. It was stunning. Not so much a waterfall in the traditional sense, but a huge expanse of rock with water running down it at a rate of knots with several small waterfalls where the rocks protruded. I took a dozen or so photos, but as with everything there you simply can’t grasp the scale of it without seeing it in person.

We walked through several other villages, some inhabited by people (the Dao tribe) who wore red hats and had another set of merchandise to try to sell to Andy. And anyone else who wanted it. But mainly Andy.

 The trail took us down to the valley floor, across the river, up the other side and onto paved road. The uphill stretched were fairly steep – today was certainly the most exercise I have had in a long time, including when I was going to the gym all those months ago. Lunch was very welcome and came with a bonus stunning view. Loi had promised is a swimmable waterfall later in the afternoon, and after washing lunch down with a rather nasty ice lolly each we started the last leg of the march to reach it.

We were on paved road for another couple of kilometres before reaching a stopoffpoint and diverting back onto the slopes. This was a very steep path and by the time we got to the bottom of it several of us had rather sore knees. Of all the ground we’d covered, this would have been by far the worst had it been raining. However, at times we were crying out for the sun to hide behind black clouds to give us some respite from the heat.

 Finally, though, we reached the bottom and strolled through another village; this one slightly more “modern” than those we’d passed through and stayed in. Over a bridge, turn right, follow a trail… and there was some lovely, cold, deep water to swim in.

Hiding places were found, clothing swapped for swimming gear (although one rather lardy man in the river kept trying to perv Kate as she got changed) and we swam around the rocks to the waterfall itself – it can’t be seen from the bank without a bit of climbing.

You know what’s coming next – gorgeous. Not the biggest I’ve ever seen, but if you get in front of it, you can see the two-tier system where water tumbles down then down again into a small canyon and finally over the rocks nearest us. It looks like some kind of raft ride at a theme park for suicides.

A large rock in front of the falls could be climbed on and most of us crawled across it and slid down in front of the descending water to be washed downstream into the stiller areas by the current. Unfortunately, taking a camera up to the rock would have been difficult and risky. Another occassion where I wish I’d picked up a waterproof camera in Chiang Mai.

 We basked for a while to dry off, then waved goodbye as some other treckers turned up to take our place. The only bad part was that we now had to make our way back up the steep slopes we’d struggled to get down.

Much sweating, swearing, and strain later we finally made it to the roadside (even avoiding the “Hello – bon-bon!” kids trying to scrounge sweets off us) to collapse and drink warm Coke. While women in blue tried to sell us jumpers, flutes, bracelets, hats and possibly children.

 We now had a jeep ride back to the hotel. Not some posh Jeep with a capital J. Oh, no. An authentic Russian-built army jeep that you can apparently strip to component parts with just a screwdriver and a spanner (or socket set if you want to be posh). When these things were built, suspension hadn’t been invented. It was great fun. Loi perched on the rear sill with Mike and myself in the boot area in front of him taking pictures of things that we passed.

Much as the day had been enjoyable, becoming one with nature in such a way does take its toll and a hot shower was most welcome when we got to the hotel. Andy and I were shown to our room and… wow. Again. A two-room en-suite chalet on stilts with a stunning view right down the valley. Piping hot water in the shower, couch, two armchairs, comfy beds, electric blankies in the cupboard for the cold nights. Lovely.

 We walked into town for dinner and found a restaurant that Loi recommended. Food was paid for as part of the trip, beers out of our own pocket. Not a hardship at 12000D for Tiger. The general concensus was that the meal was superb and plans were made to return the next day.

By that time, we were all pretty much wasted – more physically than alcoholically. Beds were reaching out with beckoning fingers and I don’t think a single one of us resisted once we got back to the hotel.

I slept very well that night. Exhaustion does that to a person.

 Sa Pa is like Ha Noi in only one way – they’re both written both with and without spaces in the middle, so excuse me if I flit between the two spellings.

As you’ll have noticed, I just managed to get my blog uploaded before our tour guide arrived to pick us up for the night train trip. Lo and behold, it was Loi who we’d had for Ha Long Bay. Things were therefore off to a good start as we knew him and liked him.

The taxi took us to the train station which was, to put it mildly, chaos. Whenever a train is due to leave, the place is absolutely heaving. Passengers aren’t allowed on the platform until the train is ready to be boarded, and the waiting rooms only accomodate maybe 150 people. Due to their infrequency, each train has a large number of carriages and therefore the queues are enormous. It’s all very British Rail, though. You must arrive 30 minutes before scheduled departure, but don’t think the train will leave anywhere near on time.

Andy and I were bunked with Mike and Jennifer in one cabin; Dale and Kate were elsewhere, bunked up with two random Korean people. It was quite pleasant – effectively two bunks, a little table, air conditioning, water and some of that icky sweet bread I can’t quite convince myself to swallow once I’ve chewed it. The loo at the end of the corridor was an “Eastern” style one – basically a metal hole in a metal floor.

I’ve never slept “properly” on a train before – just nodded off in my seat on the way to London and the like. The bed was nice and comfy, though the journey was a little noisy and jostley in places. Sometimes it felt like being rocked gently other times, bounced like on an inflatable castle. Overall, I have no idea how well I slept (or not) as I lost track of time.

We pulled up at around 6am and sat there for an age before the train moved on another mile or so into the station at Lao Cai. I told you it was like British Rail.

More chaos ensued as we were moved from one coach to a large minibus for the hour-long ride to Sa Pa itself. As ever, the driver was somewhat heavy on the horn. This time, though, it was warranted as there were many tight bends in the mountain roads. Also many huge piles of dirt and potholes that had to be skirted, many of them near these bends which made for some interesting heart-in-mouth moments when trucks and bikes came hurtling down towards us, or up past us.

The trip had been reversed slightly to compensate for the holiday weekend. The usual plan is to stay in a hotel the first night and a village the second. Instead, we arrived at the hotel to drop our bags and freshen up, pack a smaller bag and start on our treck into the valleys. The hotel served us breakfast (I had hot beef noodle soup – delicious) and stored our luggage. We hung around for a while as Loi had to get some permits and so forth. This took a little longer than normal due to Andy’s passport being a photocopied sheet of paper with no visa on it.

 While he was away, we stood in the hotel’s open-air reception and just stared in awe at the view. The clouds were low, but as we stood there we could watch them skirt past and rise, gradually burning off as the sun rose over the mountaintops.

I simply cannot explain how breathtaking these scenes were. Not only a huge variety of plants, trees, valleys, rivers and rocky mountains but also a great amount of man-made work. The natives in the area grow rice for a living and rice paddies on mountainsides sounds a bit implausible. After all, they’re essentially big pools of water. Water has a tendency to slide down mountainsides.

What they have done is to cut layers into the hills, creating a step-like effect on many of them. Each step is hollowed out into a bowl and filled with water which trickles from higher up. Their irrigation system is a joy to behold and the overall effect from a distance is as if someone has drawn map contour lines onto the landscape in real life. I’m really pleased with the way the photos of the trip came out, but they simply can’t do justice to the real thing.

Our trek began at midday. Weighted down by one small rucksack and a camera bag, I joined the others and we started to march down the road. Today would be around 10km, though that number varied depending on what mood Loi was in when we asked him.

 We walked on road, then off onto the hills themselves. Today’s journey was mainly downhill and along the side of the valley, walking along the edge of these rice paddies. We encountered many children on the way and a handful of adults. Most were members of one of the local hill tribes, the H’mong, the women of which wear dark blue or indigo clothing. They’re also very persistent when it comes to selling things. More than once I was faced with a small girl in traditional dress holding a basket of various bits and bobs and the following conversation ensued:

“You buy from me?”

“No. Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Erm… no, thank you.”

“Yes, thank you.” (cheesy smile)

“No, I do not need.”

“Why you not need?”

And on. And on. I didn’t cave, though. Andy did. In the space of about a mile he’d bought two heavy shirts, one of which he wore – staining the t-shirt underneath a lovely yellow colour as the dye in the clothing isn’t fixed.

To be honest, the kids started to get creepy with their little sing-song voices. When you have ten of them stood around saying “Buy from me? You buy from her, so you buy from me?” over and over in near-similar voices it starts to sound like something from the bowels of Wes Craven’s personal hell. “One, two, Freddy’s coming for you… Three, four, buy from me?”

This actually reminds me of something else on the Ha Long Bay trip that I forgot to mention. Whenever our boat stopped anywhere, within 90 seconds it was surrounded by small rowboats stocked with Ritz crackers, Oreos, beer and soft drinks. Cries of “OI! OI! Excuse me! Buy from me! Very cheap!” abounded. Vietnam is a nation of shopkeepers, whether that shop a building, a shack, a table, a backpack or a rowboat.

Lunch was a fairly simple affair in a small shack-like cafe on the way round, surrounded by a throng of locals staring at us then descending once more with hats, keyrings, jumpers and so on once we’d finished. We were staying in one of their villages for the night so many of them followed us along the trail until we got there.

What amazed me was that every 15 photos or so, I’d think “OK, that’s it. Seen it all. No need to take more pictures of… WOW…” and I’d round a corner to be confronted with something else that just blew my mind. Either nature itelf was doing its best to make me stare slack-jawed, or a bunch of kids made my heart melt, or an insect landed inches in front of me and posed, or Loi pointed out something I’d have missed.

 One of the smaller villages we passed through was home to the proud inventors of the water-powered rice-separator ™. Essentially, a big weight on a pivot the opposite end consisting of a large bowl placed under a running water supply. When the bowl fills, it lifts the weight up, the water sloshes out, the weigh crashes back down and separates the rice husk from the useful part of the plant. Repeat ad infinitum or until the hills run dry. This saves the villagers a lot of time so they can do other things. Like swarm around visitors, trying to tie bracelets to their wrists when they’re not looking.

 At around 4pm we arrived at our home for the evening, a nice little village near the bottom of the valley. The people are farmers as well as hunters and manufacturers, so the area was swarming with water buffalo (one only had a single horn, poor thing), chickens, ducks, dogs, cows, horses, pigs… All of which were tamer than I’d ever have expected. I found one chick that had wandered off from its mother and was on the verge of wandering into a stream. I held my hands out and it happily jumped into them and made no move to escape as I ferried it back to the coop.

The accomodation itself was basic but very homely. A two-storey wooden house purpose-built for trekkers with mattresses and beds to sleep on. The blankets were lovely and fluffy, too. The family themselves were incredibly friendly as were the other tour guides.

After dropping our stuff, we wandered down to the river for a quick dip in the chilly but clean water. It was fairly rocky, but there were a few little inlets where we could float around in relative safety until the sun started to dip and the mosquitoes came out to play.

 The guides cooked for us, then ate with the family quaffing a fair amount of rice wine. We necked cheap, chilled Tiger beer and ate a huge meal. It was getting late, and dark, but Andy and I sat up till way past our bedtimes chatting to two of the guides. Oh, and finishing the bottle of rice wine. Vietnamese for “cheers!” is “Jo!” or “Yo!” – somewhere in between the two. Rice wine is also best on a full stomach. Just take my word on this after past experience.

With the food, beer and wine swilling round in my stomach and the good conversation swilling around in my head, I staggered up the wooden stairs to Bedfordshire. 

 Andy and I took a walk to get some errands done and things didn’t work out too well. It began OK when we found a little pagoda on an island in Hoan Kiem Lake. 3000 Dong entry fee (12p) and a pleasant little environment. Certainly not as ostentatious as some temples and the like I’ve seen recently. There’s also something in the water there that grabs flies off the surface but makes a heck of a splash doing it. I never quite saw it, just the ripples afterwards but it sounded big.

A trip to the Post Office for me to phone Lou ended in a 17500 Dong bill (not that much, really) and me only leaving a message on her answerphone. I got through once, but she couldn’t hear me. Second time, right to voicemail and I have no idea if she could hear it!

 Next we were accosted by a very pushy Vietnamese guy who’d helped me sort out the international call. Good English and expensive postcards. But at least I have enough now to do me for my entire stay in Vietnam!

We then walked up the road and had a woman insist on us holding her bamboo stick over our shoulders with her hat on to have our photo taken. “No money! No money!” So no harm, then.

Suspicions should have been raised when she crouched behind a motorbike when the police drove past. We got our photos, then got charged 100,000 Dong for bananas and pineapple which is stupidly over the odds. And when Andy got back to the hostel he noticed his passport had gone missing. Now we’re not certain but he reckons she may have pilfered it. I think he might be right.

 We’ve searched everywhere with no luck at all. Fortunately, he at least has a photocopy but a replacement will take around 10 days to come through and the consulate doesn’t re-open until Wednesday. We don’t get back from Sa Pa till the following morning anyway.

Yeesh.

To cap it all, it took us 3 ATMs for me to be able to get any money out and 6 before Andy could get one that worked. Also, the machines only seem to dispense 50,000 and 100,000 notes – hardly any merchants can change these, making them difficult to use. Again, the banks are shut until Tuesday or Wednesday because of the long holiday weekend so getting change isn’t easy.

 Overall, not the greatest of days but dinner at the Sky Caf&eactute; kind of helped (chicken burger again). The view during daylight hours is really pleasant. Hoan Kiem Lake to the south, and a major junction to the west with no traffic control at all. Astoundingly, despite literally thousands of vehicles going through it (including buses which seem to be exempt to no entry and one way directions), we only saw one low-speed bump between a moped and a bike. One driver even parked his lime green Daewoo in the middle of the junction and got out for two minutes!

I’m currently sat in the hostel waiting for our ride to appear to get us to the train station. My laptop’s staying here for safety and convenience, so I’ll hopefully update again towards the coming weekend. Sa Pa here we come! I hope it doesn’t rain… 

 Our entire itinerary for the day involved getting back to Hanoi, so the early rise was necessary though not appreciated! Breakfast at the hotel was fairly pleasant. Nice and light: scrambled eggs, bread and tea.

Loi herded us all into the waiting minibus and we headed back to the port and onto the small vessel that had brought us to Cat Ba. The weather was much better than the previous day and I just sunned myself on the top deck, towel for a pillow as we made our way to where we’d kayaked the day before. Upon arrival, our boat re-watered from a floating concrete ship. Floating. Concrete. Weird.

We then waited until another larger boat appeared, similar to the one on which we’d begun our journey. People were swapped (those on that tour who were doing the extra day) and we headed back on the 2-hour stretch to Ha Long Bay. Lunch was served on board and again was cracking grub. It was also nice to have a loo that flushed. Luxury!

The final 4-hour drive back to Hanoi was broken up with a short toilet break at another café where I encountered the cutest kitten ever. The poor thing was really vocal and curled up round my feet when I tried to walk away after petting him. I crouched down and he clambered onto my knee. Loi told me I could take him if I wanted – a gift from Vietnam! “Cats are free”, he told me. Tempting though it was, I couldn’t really look after a kitten for a few weeks while travelling and Vietnamese law prohibits import and export of live animals anyway. *sigh*

Finally, we made it back to Ocean’s offices where Jennifer, her partner, Andy and I all signed up for the Sa Pa tour that Kate and Dale were already going on. 3 days/4 nights up to the mountains. Quite a difference from all the water we’d seen over the last 3 days. The trip includes a lot of hiking, climbing and a motorbike ride; two nights’ travel on the train; one night hotel and one night staying with a family in a village.

With the set-off time being 8:30 the next evening, we were glad we’d be able to see the Chelsea / ManU game as it was an early kickoff. Then realised that it was Saturday already…

Back to the hostel and the helpful staff directed us to two places nearby showing the footie. We opted for dinner at the Hanoi Tower bar, Jaspa’s. A little pricey, but nice Thai-style beef salad as we watched Chelsea thump the Reds to take the Premiership.

A short walk took us to the Funky Monkey bar where I watched us play like crap and draw 0-0 at Birmingham City. The beer was still a little pricey by Hanoi standards here, but even the Bia Hoi place round the corner was after 4000 Dong, about twice the usual price. We headed hostelwards to pack up for the next day and sort washing out.