Back in Hanoi for our last day in Vietnam, it was time to make the most of Vietnam’s delicious food.  Brendan and I decided to try a street-side place that looked popular with the locals.  We found a couple of spare plastic stools and as we squatted to sit the owner, a chubby older woman with greying hair and an efficient but not unfriendly look on her face, caught my eye and held up two fingers.  I gave her a nod.  I had just ordered two of something.  Minutes later two bowls of steaming chicken noodle soup (pho) had arrived.  Next, another bowl was offered and with a second nod we had a selection of fresh herbs to season our soup with.  Any bones or used serviettes were simply dropped on the ground to be swept up later.  At 30000 dong ($1.50) a bowl, it was a cheap but delicious lunch.  I’ve just got to learn how to eat sitting so low without dropping noodles on my knees!

With muscles stiff from yesterdays riding it was time to do some stretches and get back on our bikes for day two of our Sapa ride.  After the mostly downhill ride of yesterday, I was looking forward to more of the same.  A rude shock awaited – today’s ride was to be mostly on unsurfaced rocky roads with a lot of uphills involved.  Heavy rain during the night had also turned the road into something of a slip and slide with muddy quagmires fit for pigs, but impossible to ride through.

By the end of the day I was bruised, battered, exhausted and covered in mud.  Again though, the spectacular scenery saved the day.  Throughout the whole day’s cycling we didn’t see another tourist and the smiles and nods of encouragement of the locals spurred me on through their villages.

The overnight train from Hanoi pulled in to Lao Cai about three hours late this morning, after some engine trouble last night.  After a hearty but greasy breakfast of bacon and eggs we set off on the mountain bikes that would be our transport for the next two days.  At first, riding down the steep, winding roads with motorbikes zooming by and large patches of slippery buffalo dung to contend with was quite scary, but regular stops to take in the spectacular views helped.  Terraced rice fields glittered in the morning light before being obscured by fast moving mist that left me time and again simply staring at white.

Off the main road, the path got rocky and very slippery.  I had to get off and walk a few times or I wouldn’t have remained upright.  A rest stop gave a chance to visit a Black Hmong family who make their living by growing indigo and using the dye to colour fabric.

Mist closed in after midday.  Just as I’d really got into the swing of things with the riding enough to take in the view more, there wasn’t any to see.  Still, it was very atmospheric and the kids we passed on the road made me giggle with their “hellogoodbye”s, pouring both words out in one breath as if they were one.  It made me think of the Beatles song ‘Hello Goodbye’, which I now have stuck in my head.

Tonight we are staying with a Tay family in the village of Ban Ho.  Their house is built on stilts and the wooden rooms are spacious with a lovely balcony running around two sides.  As I write, the family is going about their daily chores. “Mum” is sorting corn.  “Dad”, who is a skilled carpenter, is building a new table, and various other family members are preparing dinner in the kitchen downstairs.  The smells wafting up are making my stomach grumble.

I woke with fingers crossed, hoping to finally have the blue skies that would transform the bay from mere beauty to magic.  While there is now a glimpse of sun and a pale patch of blue, it seems that the clouds will continue to win the war.  With flat, horrible light totally unconducive to photography, I instead spent the morning lazing on the deck of our junk, napping, and listening to the cheeky teasing and joking of our guide Ha as the rocky islands drifted by.

After the trip ended, Ha invited us out for drinks with her friends back in Hanoi.  After meeting up at 9pm we found a street corner eatery with a few spare plastic stools.  Squatted down on the low stools, we enjoyed a glass of “bia hoi”, a fresh, light-tasting beer made without any preservatives.  At only 5000 dong (25 cents) a glass, it’s the best value drink in town.  Then, time to hit the club.  At the Dragonfly Bar lots of young hip Vietnamese types jammed themselves into a small room to dance to the pounding beats.  The was very little space to actually dance and as people entered or left the room, those around them were sucked along in the same direction.  We lost Ha in the crowd a few times as she is so short, but she feistily fought her way back to find us each time.  With no age limits in bars in Vietnam, I also spotted a few very young looking Westerners enjoying the chance for a night out on town…or maybe I’m just getting to old…I’m certainly past my clubbing prime.