Ha Long Bay

After a couple days of sightseeing in Ha Noi and hiking adventures in Sa Pa, Lauren, John, and I treated ourselves to a bit of relaxation on Ha Long Bay.  

Our driver took us from Ha Noi out to Hai Phong; it was two hours of unnecessary traffic jams and movie soundtrack power ballads playing on loop.  There’s only so many times you can hear Because You Loved Me before you start contemplating jumping out of the van speeding down the highway. 

We hopped aboard the hydrofoil and headed toward Cat Ba, a journey with fewer power ballads but way more puking.  I love the smell of other people’s vomit in the morning.  (I saved all my puking for the next day....)

A short walk from the pier, we met up with our guide Lu at Eco Friendly Vietnam.  From there, we were whisked away to our private junk boat for the next three days on Ha Long Bay.  Two cabin rooms, sun deck, our tour guide Lu, Captain Vinh, and our private chef Duong, all for about $200 each -- a good deal if I ever saw one.

Cabin room

Plenty of shade up on the sun deck

Hard to complain about this view....

The first few hours on the boat were spent lying in the sun and taking in the views of Ha Long Bay.  The name means “Descending Dragon Bay” because the islands resemble the back of a dragon sinking into the water.

Finger Rock

Dragon's back / Islands

We sailed past many local fish farming villages as Lu filled us in on some of the history of Ha Long Bay.

Floating fishing village

Rush hour traffic

In the afternoon, we kayaked around in the bay.  Sadly, the water is polluted with garbage (even saw a hypodermic needle float by), so swimming was out of the question for me.  But the views from the kayak were beautiful.  We saw monkeys running around on the cliffs and navigated through caves around the islands.

That night, Duong cooked us up a feast of seafood delights, and we spent the evening playing cards and laughing.  After a few beers, Lauren and I quickly defaulting into our strange friend language of animal noises and obscure movie quotes, which we always find hilarious but left John wondering how either of us has managed to accomplish much more beyond tying our own shoes.  Following one particularly riotous exchange that left Lauren and me dissolving into tears, John sat across the table, stoney-faced, and asked, “What is even funny about ANY of that?”

It can’t be explained.  Sorry, John.

I spent the next day in bed feeling like this.  Luckily, I had this view to cheer me up.

Sick view.  Get it?? 

Ha Long Bay

Revived and fully rested, I was ready for adventure on the last day.  We made a stop at Monkey Island, an area in Cat Ba.  True to its name, there were monkeys on that island!

Checking out the newest visitors

That's a monkey. 

Awwww, monkey family

My next visit back to Milwaukee has a lot to live up to, so start planning, Lauren and John! 

Motorbike Diaries

Today’s article is written for the Reach To Teach Teach Abroad Blog Carnival, a monthly series that focuses on providing helpful tips and advice to ESL teachers around the globe. I'll be posting a new ESL related article on my blog on the 5th of every month. Check back for more articles, and if you'd like to contribute to next month's Blog Carnival, please get in touch with me, and I'll let you know how you can start participating!  Check out the rest of this month's entries about memorable experiences abroad by clicking here!

The police officer stepped away from the shoulder and into the lane in front of me, about 50 yards down the road.  I laid off the gas as he started waving his baton, motioning for me to pull over.  As I got closer, I saw two other cops sitting on their motorcycles behind a tree.

Crap. What now? 

I was wearing a helmet.  I wasn’t speeding.  The road was basically empty, except for a few other motorist, including my housemate Nick, who I now noticed was also being signaled over to the side of the road.

No traffic!!

I couldn’t imagine what offense I had committed to warrant being pulled over by the police.  I was on on good motorbike behavior.  Nothing like what normally passes for driving on the busy streets of Saigon.

On any given day, my commute across town to and from work offers up a plethora of death traps along the road.  Ho Chi Minh City is congested with motorbike traffic, and everyone seems to have their own idea of what appropriate big-city driving entails.  

Motorbikes weave in and out between cars, taxis, buses, and other motorbikes.  Buses blow exhaust in your face as they barrel across three lanes of traffic, blaring their horn in warning.  Taxis turn left from the right lane and right from the left.  Little old ladies cross the street in the middle of the block during rush hour.  Street food carts set up shop in the gutter, sticking out in the lane and causing jams as hungry patrons pull up to order.

But I wasn’t driving in Saigon.  I was out for a country drive in Can Gio, nearly an hour away from the hustle of the city.  The road was wide and open.  No real traffic to speak of.

Why is he pulling me over?  What am I doing wrong?

Blue sky, country road

As I slowed to a stop in front the police officer, a million thoughts were running through my head.

Is he going to write me a ticket?  Does he just want a bribe?  Crap, I don’t have very much money with me.  Maybe that’s a good thing.  Or maybe he’ll cart me off to the police station until I pay up.  

Oh my god.  

I’m going to be locked up abroad!

I parked my bike, turned off the ignition, and sat staring at the cop.  Nick pulled up next to me, and the policeman walked over to us.  He motioned for us to get off the bikes and walk towards the other cops, lounging in the shade on their police motorbikes.

Nick and I exchanged puzzled and worried looks as the police officer spoke rapid Vietnamese at us, pointing at his clipboard and miming that he wanted to see our documents.  This was a problem, as neither of us had a valid driver’s license for Vietnam.  

But surely, SURELY, this is no big offense.  There are ways around every deadline and regulation in this country.  I mean, which rules are ACTUALLY enforced??

Certainly not traffic rules.

Beyond all the turning left from the right lane and right from the left, there are numerous traffic violations I witness on an almost constant basis, every time I drive my bike.  Riders with no helmets.  Motorbikes up on the sidewalk.  Families of five, plus a dog or maybe a refrigerator, all on one bike.  No blinkers.  No checking your blind spot.  No side mirrors with which to check your blind spot.  Motorbikes driving down the highway with peach trees bungeed to the back.  Wrong way down a one-way street.  

And don’t even get me started on the roundabouts. 

If these horrible and terribly dangerous practices are commonplace, naturally my lack of one silly little document is small potatoes.  

Right??

My trusty Honda Wave

“Uhhhh, what should we do?” I asked Nick, my heart rate quickening at a terrifying rate.

“I don’t know.  I don’t have a license.  I don’t even have an ID on me.  Just.... Just play dumb.”  Good plan.

The brown-clothed police officer again demanded to see our documents, this time turning to look at his less-interested colleagues, one of whom was now recording this exchange on his camcorder.  All I had was my Wisconsin driver’s license and an International Driver’s License from the AAA office back home, which claimed to be valid in Vietnam, although it was not translated into Vietnamese.

I handed over what I had, hoping they would suffice.  The officer took them and walked away towards the other cops.

A few tense, silent moments later, he returned, clipboard in hand.

“Blah blah blah blah blah??” he commanded in Vietnamese.

“Uhhhh.....” we both shrugged our shoulders and smiled.

“Do you speak Vietnamese?” the police officer sputtered out in a thick accent.

“No” was our simple reply.

The cop turned to look again at the other officers for assistance.  They both stared blankly back.  Finally, one officer, who couldn’t be bothered to move from the shade of the tree, cocked his head, shrugged his shoulders, and looked away.

Defeated, the traffic cop turned back to us, thrust my papers back towards me, and waved us off without another glance.

That’s it.  We’re free.  We’re not going to Vietnamese jungle prison.  We’re not even emptying our bank accounts in an offering of peace.

“What just happened?” I whispered to Nick as we put our helmets back on and walked to our bikes.

“Don’t ask questions.  Just drive away before they figure out how to ask for money in English!” he responded as he hurriedly started his engine and lifted the kickstand.  

As we accelerated away over the bridge, leaving the police crew behind us, I felt a little like a criminal who’d gotten away with something sneaky.

I pulled up in the lane beside Nick and shouted over the revving engines, “Thank god for the language barrier!”

Free as a bird

Sa Pa

Wanting to get away from the hustle and bustle of Hanoi, Lauren, John, and I boarded a night train to Lao Cai, with Sa Pa in our sights.  Lao Cai is located along the Vietnam-China border, and it was our meeting point with our Sa Pa guide, Hao.

Lauren and John wait patiently for the night train

A bumpy van ride out into the middle of nowhere, a few moments to slather on sunscreen, and a wave from the driver, and we set off on a three-day adventure into the depths (and heights!) of our Sa Pa Trek! 

Follow the yellow brick road

As we hiked through the mountains and rice fields of the sparsely populated region, our faithful guide Hao offered some ‘short cuts’ to save time.  After only an hour of hiking, we were covered in sweat, so short cuts could not be refused.  But these were no ordinary short cuts.  While the paths we took certainly shortened our horizontal distance, the vertical distance could not be avoided, and was in fact forced upon us in mere minutes.  I swear to god we climbed 1,000 feet in two minutes.  Ok, maybe not quite, but the short cuts left me sucking air and covered in mud.

But then we got to see this!

Mountaintop views

Bamboo fence post

Sa Pa region terraced rice fields

Safety rail

Red Dzao woman taking a break

One of our trusty porters

Uhhhh, yeah... that's for real

Our first day of the trek, we did not see another foreigner even once after leaving the Lao Cai city limits.  We hardly saw any people at all, to be honest.  It was just us and the Vietnam mountains.  And occasionally a surprised villager or two.

Along the way, we passed through a couple of villages of local people.  There are several hill tribes that live in the Sa Pa highlands.  When we encountered a Red Dzao settlement, Hao asked permission for us to enter one of their homes.  Hardly any furniture, but they had satellite TV!

Red Dzao woman and her son outside their home

Red Dzao women and children

Hao lends a hand to a Red Dzao couple building a roadside retaining wall

When we stopped (collapsed) for lunch, we were spied by a group of children from the local village.  They wouldn’t come very close to us at first, hiding around the corner of the old schoolhouse porch where we had sat for our picnic lunch.  But after a few rounds of chase, lots of laughter, and the promise of candy, the kids warmed to us.

Pit stop for lunch

Village kids peaking around the corner at us

New friends

We also got up close and personal with some interesting wildlife.

Roaming horses

Moo

Ox

Albino water buffalo

Animal kingdom in action -- billy goat gruff fight

Before the first day was over, we hiked back down the mountain, across a river, and straight back up the other side of the mountain through a bamboo forest.  I’m gonna be honest -- I was not a happy hiker at this point.  I made feeble attempts to mask my need for frequent breathing stops as we scaled hundreds of feet in less than an hour by pretending to stop to look out at the views.  I really did look at the views, but mostly I was just trying to take in adequate amounts of oxygen.

We hiked down to that river and back up the other side!

We arrived to our homestay in an odd mix of complete exhaustion and total exhilaration.  The overnight stay was scheduled in a Red Dzao village, in a home of a local family.  They offered us access to their shower (a bucket inside a wooden shack), toilet (a squatter outhouse that “flushed” out over the ridge), and their home (a large lofted home -- with satellite TV!). 

Our home for the night.  We bunked upstairs in the loft.

Homestay driveway

Guard dog

Water tank, "shower", and the outhouse down the hill

Grandkids at the homestay
The little guy in front cried nonstop

Our gracious host
(little guy still crying)

Hao and our porters helped cook us a delicious dinner with far too much food.  And of course, our Red Dzao host grandpa came around with the rice wine to top off the night.  Then it was off to bed early, to sleep in the loft beneath a mosquito net.

Next morning we set off in a light rain that turned into a fairly constant drizzle throughout the day.  Aside from the obvious drawbacks of a rainy mountain hike, the precipitation also provided me with several monster blisters.  Good thing we got to see all this to make up for it!!

Mountain village

Halfway through day 2.... still so far to go!

Breathtaking
(and not just because we hiked all the way up there)

Rice fields 

Sa Pa pals!

Stilt house

Should have asked for a ride

Hao negotiated us another invitation inside a minority home, this time the house of a Sapho family.  The husband told us the village was so remote that they often went hungry due to lack of supplies.  He also reported that their most valuable possession was a scrawny ox tied up out back.

Sapho woman outside her home

Sapho village house

Before our trekking adventure came to an end, we spent a couple hours hiking through the terraced rice fields.  And I truly mean we hiked through them.  Of course we didn’t want to walk in the pools of water, damaging the rice, so we teetered along the built-up edges of the terraces, using our best balancing skills (and my best foul language skills).  I’m not very coordinated.  And I don’t like getting dirty.  Ha, should have thought about that before signing up for this trip!

Hiking through the terraces

After Hao guided us across the most terrifying bridge ever half-way built over a gushing river, we wandered into a local Tay village, where we stopped for lunch, followed by a ride to the EcoLodge.  A well-deserved indulgence, the EcoLodge provided hot showers and super-fluffy beds.  And air conditioning!! 

A most delicious lunch of beef noodle soup

Pathway to our cabins at the EcoLodge

EcoLodge

View from our back porch

More back porch views

Much-needed relaxation

Red Dzao women outside the EcoLodge
Very aggressive salespeople! 

The next day, well-rested, freshly scrubbed, and feet covered in Band Aids, we took a shuttle into town to explore Sa Pa proper.  The town is overrun with tourists, and it made me so happy we’d opted for the private trek through remote areas.  While it’s convenient to have English menus at coffee shops, not encountering other non-Vietnamese people for 48 hours was a welcome escape.

Roadside market, Sa Pa

Minority women selling wares in Sa Pa

Outside the market

Black Dzao women

Sa Pa

Black Dzao woman and baby

And I can’t end this tale without one more food pic.  This scrumptious meal was served to us from a street stand in Lao Cai before we boarded the night train back to Hanoi.  

'Mini' ban xeo and nem chua dinner