Sapa Mountains
Despite its commercialization during
the last seven years, Sapa is still a must-see on any northern Vietnam
itinerary. On a clear day you will treated to views of steeply terraced
rice
fields, towering verdant ridgelines, primitive mud-thatched villages,
raging
rivers and astounding waterfalls.
Nestled high in the Tonkinese Alps
near the Chinese border, Sapa was built as a hill station during French
colonial
days, to serve as a respite from stifling Hanoi
summers. These days, weekends are still the biggest draw in this
crumbling
hill-tribe center. Visitors from the capital flock to Sapa for a glimpse
of the
famed "Love Market," a trek to local hill tribe villages, or an
ascent of Vietnam's
highest peak, Fan Si Pan.
Some eight ethnic groups inhabit Lao
Cai province: Hmong, Dao, White Thai, Giay, Tay,
Muong, Hao and Xa Pho. The most prominent in town are the Red Dao,
easily
identified by the coin-dangling red headdresses and intricately
embroidered
waistcoats worn by the women, and the Hmong, distinguished by their
somewhat
less elaborately embroidered royal blue attire. Groups of ethnic Hmong
youngsters and women can be seen hauling impossibly heavy, awkward
baskets of
wood, stakes, bamboo, bricks, mud and produce.
Deep in the valleys
surrounding
Sapa, the Muong Hoa River
sluices a wild, jagged course among Giay, Red Dao and White Thai
settlements,
their tiny dwellings poking out of the neon rice fields like diamonds on
a
putting green. One- to four-day treks are offered by a handful of
outfitters.
Guests sleep in tents or in the homes of villagers, their gear hauled by
Hmong
porters. Be warned: Despite what the local innkeepers will tell you,
both the
Hmong and the Dao really do not enjoy having their photographs taken
unless
they're paid for it. It's a certainty that any brochure you see of
smiling,
care-free ethnic hill people was shot under a Screen Actors Guild
contract.
Sapa is famed for its "Love Market"
– sort of a cross between a peacock mating ritual, a Middle Eastern arms
bazaar, an Amish square dance, a bad Pavarotti concert and Bangkok's
Patpong
(except here the people wear clothes). On Saturday nights, Red Dao hill
tribe
youths of both sexes congregate in a weekly courting rite, singing
tribal
versions of Loretta Lynn love songs to woo the opposite sex.
The songs
are
highly personalized and boast of the composer's physical attributes,
domestic
abilities and strong work ethic. While Dao women are indeed highly
industrious,
the men, it seems, prefer to spend most of their time drinking, smoking
opium
or sleeping, only occasionally slapping the rump of a lethargic bovine
moving
more slowly than they are. Few of their songs, though, are about
drinking,
smoking opium, sleeping or slapping rumps.
Topping out at 3,143 meters, Fan Si
Pan has become the Mount Everest of Vietnam, with queues of yuppie
trekkers in
their latest Travel Smith "totally-pack able" rainwear forming
mountaineering traffic jams at base camps. Eco Travel can arrange guided
ascents.
Sapa itself is a somewhat bedraggled
village meshing crumbling, mildewed French colonial architecture with
the
pencil-thin, brick-and-concrete mini-hotels that have become so
ubiquitous in
recent years all across Vietnam.
This neglected, cultural mishmash would be an eyesore in any place less
spectacularly scenic than Sapa. Because of its Shangri-la-like setting,
Sapa
actually seems quaint – a tranquil, restful village. Which
is, of course, what the French originally intended the place to be.
Amenities are limited unless you choose to stay at the Four Star
Victoria Sapa,
a sprawling alpine campus nestled discreetly into a hillside in the
center of
town.
The best times of the year to visit Sapa are in the spring
and fall. Summers tend to be rainy and muddy, while winter temperatures
can
drop to the freezing mark (Sapa ushered in 2000 with snow!). Weather
really
does make a difference here, because the spectacular scenery is all but
blotted
out when there is cloud cover and rain. Ignore the other Nikon-toting
tourists
in the villages and get out into the countryside, where you just may
still
catch a glimpse into hill-tribe life of a couple of centuries ago.
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