The Lead Study Abroaders Survive Sapa Valley

This was an adventure of a lifetime. We began our journey with an overnight train to Sapa. I was bedridden with food poisoning for 26 hours prior, so the abrupt stopping and the toddler-sized bed were unwelcome aspects of the voyage. Sapa Valley being the last stop, we arrived at 5:45am to an unfriendly train station in the pitch dark morning. We were all grumpy—nobody felt like they had for more than 60 seconds. Claustrophobic Courtney shared about her 10 minute panic attack when her door slid shut and she was forced to use her sneaker to keep it open.

The train cabins were EXTRA COZY

When the exhausted travelers found their bus, they packed their bags into the rear and settled down for what they expected to be a decently long voyage to the mountains. The bus pulls out of the lot and drives no more than 100 yards down the street before we arrive at our hotel for a shower and breakfast. Our tour guide, Quynh, instructs us to shower at the most questionable of hotels--that was willing to arrange an hourly rate...let's think about that one for a minute…an hourly hotel within walking distance of the train station (with a naked woman not-too-tastefully painted on the bathroom tiles). Finally we cross the street to eat breakfast, but all I could stomach was jam and toast (still recovering from Vietnamese stomach bugs).

We piled back onto the bus and head up the steepest, foggiest, one lane road that I swore only existed in horror films. To make matters more hilarious, the bus driver is all too comfortable with the mountain and his hugging every turn, whipping around his precious cargo and flying through the fog. When we arrive at the starting point for our hike, we drop our luggage at the Cat Cat Hotel, and walk around the village of Sapa for 30 minutes, during which we enjoyed being heckled by the tribal women who followed us, made small talk with you until they were comfortable enough to ask you to “buy something from me”. Fortunately, we avoided the sales pitches long enough to find tea and boot-sized croissants that were warm and delicious.

The most adventuresome of mornings was over. Now the fun could really begin. We hopped back on the bus for a minute before we encountered what Sapa is truly known for. In Sapa, they grow crops on massive hills in layers—rice and indigo. We walk through the valley--up and down, sideways, through mud and poop. We spot chickens, pigs, water buffalo and dogs. We trekked through muck for three hours, during which Quynh told us five times that we were only 10 minutes away from our lunch destination. Couldn’t help but laugh and keep walking. Honestly there was no other option. Hunger and fatigue set in, but we finally arrived at a tiny village area. We climbed an even tinier ladder to an outdoor seating area. The frigid air blew wildly throughout lunch, but the noodle soup was fresh and fantastic.

After our legs stiffened we hit the road again. Another hour and a half of trekking through sludge meant several of us slipped, some of us fell, and we all were gloriously caked in a unique stew known to us as Sapa’s scent.

I was at the back of the group with Dr. Helfman (god bless her heart) she was still very sick when we were trekking. We opted to take the advice of two tribal women in favor of the “easier route”, which of course was shorter in distance, but about twice as steep. I couldn’t find any traction in my shoes because my sneakers were covered with sludge.

When we finally arrived at the homestay in the mountains, we toured the four room house which was built by the husband of the home--it was constructed of wood, tin and bamboo. We sat around a fire and talked amongst ourselves before the woman of the house, her son and his friend began cooking over an open fire. The abroaders slowly migrated to watch them cook us a feast. The food was fresh, filling and so very satisfying. Shortly after dinner we all bundled into our sections of the house and slept on beds made of straw, and blankets that were so thick that we buried ourselves and weren’t seen till morning. We woke up at dawn to the sounds of pounding rain, roosters howling and the hot fire crackling. We were fed another feast--crepes with some fresh fruit that we watched caramelize over the open flame. The family dog and cat wandered through the house and just a little entertainment (although we were sad we couldn’t touch them for fear of diseases) while the hosts prepared our meals. After breakfast, we made our beds, packed our bags, and with Quynh’s help--we found our bus back to the town area of Sapa.

Written by Jon Morfe, edited by Noah Stern
Photo credits: Noah Stern