Vitamin C--the universal cure

Groggy, dirty and in desperate need of a toothbrush, we made our way from the train to the town of Sapa. After looking through the plethora of guesthouses crowded one corner of town, we ended up at the Queen and up five flights of stairs. As I silently cursed Oded for choosing a room so high up, he climbed the stairs with a quiet confidence. We reached the top and he opened the door to the best room we have yet to stay in. For $6 total a night, we had hot water, a huge room, TV, two comfy chairs and an unending supply of boiled water to make coffee. All of this pales in comparison to the view from our window--mountains that truly deserved the title of royalty, crowned in a fog that was dedicated to cloaking its queen constantly.

We spent the next five days trekking through rice terraces, bamboo forests and local villages. From a distance, the landscape looks like soft green stairs, dotted with smoke stacks and a bevvy of animals from cows, pigs, and ducks to your run of the mill cats and dogs. When we were young, Jason and I used to play a game--we padded the bottom of the stairs with as many blankets as possible and then one at a time, jumped in the laundry basket and sledded down the stairs into the cloth mountain we had created. This terraces looks, from afar, the perfect testing ground for this game.

Our first trek began with a slow descend into the terraces, led by our guide Ha and a number of local women, decked in the black and red cloth the demarcate them as member of the Black Hmong tribe. The town itself is tiny but full of delicious food, beautiful treks and a relaxing atmosphere. The few streets are packed full of cozy restaurants, a pool hall and a daily market selling everything from fresh pineapple and pastry to roast dog. It is easy to mistake this town for somewhere in Switzerland, minus the local women and their wares. All of the local tribes weave--hats, pillow cases, scarves--and are constantly selling.

After Oded's friend's left us to explore the rest of Vietnam, we hiked from Sapa to the neighboring village, Cat Cat. Known for a beautiful waterfall and a moderate hike, we wanted to push past the tourist area just a bit. We climbed a path that weaved behind the waterfalls and led to a secluded lake area, where women did their washing and men fished. We climbed further and further, until we reached a semi-deserted house, a marker that perhaps we should turn back. The climb up was much easier than the climb down proved. As Oded turned back to make sure that I was OK, he slipped down the hill, skidding on rocks and mud, and ultimately twisted his middle finger. By the next day, the middle finger on his right hands was swollen twice its size and the knuckle was turned sideways. Our adventure for the day was a trip to the Sapa hospital. For a town where the main activity is trekking, the hospital was far from the center and not clearly marked whatsoever. We ended up finding a willing doctor but it took more than one try to find one who spoke English. The doctor looked at Oded's finger, confirmed that the finger wasn't broken, prescribed Vitamin C and some pain killers, and then asked for ten bucks. We gave over the equivalent of two dollars, thanked them, and ultimately paid a visit to the hospital in Bangkok a few days later.

To see photos of Sapa, please click me