Sapa

An end to our vacation within a vacation. Out of Hanoi and back on the bikes, while only managing to get ripped off one more time as we left town. Apparently to get our bikes on the train, our only option was to buy out an entire deluxe sleeper cabin, at the low cost of $96, plus an additional $5 at the station to allow our unseemly bikes into the passenger section of the train. We were even told to bribe the conductor, but at that point she had taken so much of our money that she magnanimously denied our disrespectful offering. At least in the end, all of the money we spent did result in our arrival at Lao Cai with our bikes, about 38k from our final destination in Sapa.

The ride to Sapa...unrelenting. 27k at a 10% grade with a fully loaded bike, and minimal exercise over the previous two weeks, resulted in three hours of panting and pain. From Lao Cai we shot straight up into the mist and the mountains one painful pedal stroke at a time. But as soon as the pedals started churning I felt the freedom of the bike, welcoming the curious glances and cheerful waves as we passed by on our overladen steeds. Their were two kids that were so excited to see me they ran behind my bike and helped push me up the hill at least for a little while. As they started to tire, I began pedaling for all of us since they were no longer pushing, but rather hanging onto my rack as I continued up the hill. Entertaining...yes... but also really tiring when you're not in the greatest shape. After a massive push on the pedals I did finally break away and continue to huff and puff my way up to Sapa. As we neared our destination the clouds began to break and the surrounding mountains began to materialize out of the mist. Jagged ridgelines with densely vegetated peaks thrust up into the sky. Hmong women traversing the streets in brightly patterned headwraps, dresses, and traditional leggings, absently wrapping thread around their hands or selling their goods to the nearby tourist.

Our first day in Sapa we climbed another 15 k, despite the protests from my tired legs, to Silver falls, a beautiful torrent of water cascading down a series of steps as it journeyed toward the valley below. Higher still was Golden stream love waterfall, a single drop spraying water into a deep black pool rimmed in golden shallows that wind down into the forest below. The day finished with a long downhill ride slicing through sheets of rain, our endless days of biking under cloudless sunny skies are long gone.

Following consecutive days of riding, mostly uphill, we switched it up and went for a hike down to a local village about 2k out of town, nestled on the slopes beneath Sapa. Due to its proximity to Sapa and its hordes of tourists, it was hard to tell what part of the village maintained a traditional lifestyle, because as far as I could see it was set up to accomodate foreigners.

Another 2k down the road we came upon Sin Chai village which is probably what Cat Cat looked like before it converted to a tourist economy. Small children and livestock wandered the streets, men and women were at work on the terraced hillsides tilling the land, with some women carrying the newest family member strapped snugly to their back. The villagers who were not in the fields occupied the front porches of their homes, weaving on a loom, or maintaining the ever present activity of stringing out long pieces of thread and wrapping them around their hand. Women would cluster around a doorstep in the morning before the market opened, children strapped to their backs in a sea of pinks and greens, chatting away with one another, but always absently pulling out and straightening lengths of thread and wrapping them around the layer steadily growing on their hands.

We wandered past the village and further along into the rice paddies cut into the hillsides. Young and old, tools in hand, working the soil beneath their feet. Water buffaloes ankle deep in a muddy step dragging the till through the saturated earth. All around us the hills were alive with activity, people hard at work maintaining their crops and their livelihood.

The last few days in Sapa passed with a few nice rides and hikes into the surrounding hills. Although there was one day that was mostly shot due to a cloud that rolled into Sapa early in the morning and sat there the whole day, reducing the visibility to about 50 meters. In a place as beautiful as Sapa losing a day to the clouds was definitely a bit of a bummer, and to add to the overall dreariness of the day the power was out for the better part of it.

Losing a day to the clouds hurt, but the next few days riding and hiking under sunny skies helped ease the pain. Our last big excursion took us to the top of Mt. Hamong which rose up from the ridgeline behind Sapa. From the summit the views were spectacular. The terraced paddies cut into the floor and walls of the valley looked as if somebody was trying create a topographic map of the landscape, with continuous even steps up the mountains 1 meter at a time. A beautiful hike to bring our time in Sapa to an end.

A vacation from the bikes

So...I spent almost a month in Vietnam (last month mind you) and I am just now managing to sit down and write about it. I'm lazy. The first two weeks were a vacation within a vacation, no time on the bike and a lot of time on various beaches in southern Vietnam.

The first few days in Hanoi we spent recovering from our red-eye flight from Bangalore, and the general joys of international travel with bicycles in tow, while waiting for the arrival of Paris' mom from the states. From Hanoi we took off to Hoi An, the clothing capital of Vietnam, down on the southern coast. As a result of my time there, I am now the proud owner of a bright orange tailor made suit, with a purple shirt and lilac vest to accompany it. Some may question the purchase, but I say money well spent.

After a week in Hoi An it was back to Hanoi for one night, and then north for a one night cruise amidst the limestone karsts on Halong Bay. An early morning (at least for me) and a long van ride, led us to the tranquil and stunning beauty of Halong Bay. The harbor entrace is a jigsaw puzzle of tourist buses and private cars, constantly shifting to accomodate the evergrowing number of pieces. We all streamed out of our respective vans and made our way through the maze of vehicles to the sea of white faces, appropriately gathering beneath the large "Tourist Harbor Entrance" sign. It felt a bit like a field trip from middle school, all the different groups bunched up around the entrance waiting for a guide to tell them where to go or what to do. Not necessarily a scene of beauty, but a moment to remember.

Halong bay extended beyond what I ever imagined from the pictures. The limestone karsts stretched endlessly into the mist that enshrouded our ship the first day of the cruise. Gray cliffs, draped in green, jutting out of the turquoise water. Rounded ridges and spines of limestone scattered about the bay, creating a seemingly impenetrable maze of islands. We took all of this in from the plush recliners scattered about the roof of our junk boat, relaxing and taking in the dreamscape, as our boat glided through the water and tiny ripples lapped up against the hull.

Included in the cruise was a tour through one of the floating villages of fisherman that live out on the bay amongst the towering karsts. We toured through the village on what appeared to be a floating bowl, rowed around with four people in it by somebody half my size. The village was set in a bay of placid turquoise water surrounded by three hundred foot cliffs of limestone. As we bobbed through the village in our floating bowl watching the villagers go about their daily tasks of organizing fishing equipment and living their lives, it was impossible not to feel an overwhelming sense of calm seep into your body. We finished up the cruise the following day with a visit to a labyrinth of caverns worn in to the limestone karsts, which were cast in artificial neon light, giving the whole excursion a club like atmosphere...odd but beautiful all the same. Hopefully my pictures do a better job to capture the experience than my words.

A peaceful glide back to the dock and a two hour bus ride later we were back in Hanoi, and getting ready to catch a train to Lao Cai and hop back on the bikes for the 35 climb into the northern highlands of Vietnam.

Vietnam

Final thoughts on India

Describing India in a few succinct phrases is beyond my capacity as a writer, so I'm not going to try. After five months of travel I can say that my salient memories of India are the everyday interactions we had with people along the road. The moments of genuine curiousity and kindenss from strangers, when it didn't feel like somebody was trying to squeeze something out of me. Palaces, museums, forts; all of it was amazing, but it was the conversations over a fresh coconut milk along the side of the road, in the midst of the midday heat and the traffic that I will remember.

Cities and beyond

After our last few days in the hills we hopped on a bus and headed north for the Mysore in the plains of Karnataka. The city had a surprisingly mellow vibe for such a large population as well as one of the most elaborate palaces we have seen anywhere in India. Ridiculously ornate carved teak ceilings, engraved silver doors, and more chandeliers than I have ever seen, absolutely stunning. From Mysore we moved on to Bangalore to gather up some new bike boxes and prepare for the next leg of the trip to Vietnam. Damn, five months in India coming to an end, not quite sure yet how I feel.

Back to the hills

he northern beaches of Kerala were amazing, but they still don't compare to the hill stations in the Western Ghats, even with the extra effort required to haul a fully loaded bike up the hills. We arrived in Kalpetta surrounded once more by peaks blanketed in lush tropical forests and a shimmering sea of undulating tea plantations, what's not to love about that.

Our bikes provided a great way to poke around town, see the sights, and led to some lazy afternoon rides through the tranquil scenery. Traveling with empty bikes on all the trips out of Kalpetta was a welcome change, all we had to worry about was finding a nice mellow rhythm in the pedals and losing ourselves in the hills.

The first day we did a 20k ride out to Soochpara falls, a nice place to lounge in the shade and cool off under the cascading water during the midday heat. Entertainment for the afternoon was provided by the hordes of Indian tourist that collected in mass beneath the falls for a cleansing bath. My only suggestion for them would be to avoid white towels, there was more than enough on display without those adding to the show.

Chembra peak the next day supplied us with the most spectacular views while were in Kalpetta. We followed a series of interweaving dirt tracks, that cut a path through the open fields of grass along the shoulder of the peak, to the summit. What we lacked in shade was made up for with spectacular vistas in every direction and a gentle breeze to ward off the afternoon heat. The summit belonged to us and provided a comfortable cloak of silence, broken only by the grass rustling in the breeze. Moments of silence become so poignant when the day to day is shrouded in the constant din of traffic. I will leave any descriptions of the scenery to my camera which is far better at capturing the beauty than my words.

The last day at Karalad Lake provided a similar break. A short ride through bucolic fields of palm trees and wheat to arrive at a halcyon lake erupting in beautiful purple lotus flowers. No traffic to hear, just the rhythmic sound of a woman slapping her clothes against a nearby rock. Taken with the scenery the noise blended seamlessly into the landscape. The hills provide a perfect escape from the chaos that is the lowland cities of India.





T

Equipment failure

Of all the the equipment problems I envisioned on this bike trip, the last one that occurred to me was having the bolt holding my seat to my seat post snapping in half. Turns out hauling a 15lb watermelon in my backpack down to the beach was a little much for the bolt to handle, so it unceremoniously dumped me on my ass in the middle of a dirt road, still a little sore from that one. Fortunately after some trial and error at the bike shop the seat was reattached to the post in a usable, if not perfect fashion. I should say it was barely usable, round two with the bolt occurred yesterday in the midst of an epic climb and left me standing on the pedals for the last 8k of the climb, fun times. There are definitely worse things that could have broken on the bike, but riding without a seat certainly isn't any fun. I think I need to buy smaller watermelons.

Updated bike route

View Kerala Bike Route in a larger map