In Which We Become Trekkies.

Just before we started our trek through the mountains to the ethnic minority village where we would stay the night with a local family, it started to rain.

Luckily, we were prepared for this eventuality.

Vietnam has dozens of ethnic minorities. The three main groups
around Sapa are the Black H'mong (see the ladies above),
Red Dao (pronounced zow), and Giay (pronounced zai). The women,
who all seem to know at least a little English, walk in to town
to hustle the tourists, while the men stay home and take care of the
fields, the animals, and the children.
The older woman had a baby on her back.

As we began the 8 km trek to the village, we attracted an entourage
of hawkers, all with the same questions: "Where you come from? How old are you?
How many children?" O. told them many times that we weren't
interested in their wares, and several dropped away, but others persisted.

We walked downhill through the cool drizzle past thick stands of bamboo
and pine. The vegetation is a combination of alpine and tropical.
The guide told us that the trails were too slippery and we must take the road.
We were disappointed at first, but later we encountered
several other trekkers who were covered with mud and were
glad we'd listened to the guide.

At first, the floor of the valley was hidden in mist and sudden squalls of rain.

But gradually, the mists cleared and the rain slackened and
we could see the verdant landscape.

The sinuous rills of the rice paddies--years of arduous hand labor.

We passed many traditional houses.

Chickens waiting for the rain to abate.

Water buffalo grazing by the side of the road.

Preening ducklings.

Clouds of huge, golden butterflies.

Finally, we could see the valley we were headed for.

At last we reached the first Black H'mong village. O. is still
trying to explain that she doesn't want to buy anything.

The little riverfront restaurant where we had lunch.
We were very glad to rest our aching feet and backs. We walked a lot
in Hanoi, but not carrying overnight packs. We're sore.

P.