HA NOI
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<99Days
to Panama home>
Information on our motorhome trip to Central America.
99
Days to Panama, an Exploration of Central America by Motorhome
by Dr. John & Harriet Halkyard, is available there
by Harriet Halkyard
We toured Hanoi to Sapa in the North, including Halong Bay
(Map Courtesy Lonely Planet)
You can reach the people who put this together for us at www.vietnamexplorers.com Ask for Chi or Yen, and tell them we told you to call !!
 It
is hard to walk in the old quarter of
“Walk slowly.”
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 The
traffic at a busy intersection traveled at a
steady
ten to fifteen miles and hour, crossing between each other with no
controls.
Bicycles carry one or two people, and motor scooters have one, two,
three or
four people as they weave between tricycles with a peddler pushing
clients
around and the occasional car. Then a bus pulled up and did a U turn
across
everyone and turned around the fountain that was not quite in the
middle of the
intersection. All the while an elderly lady was doing her exercises
near the
fountain next to the orderly queue waiting the bus. I could have
watched all
night, but we had a train to catch. We made it to the |
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We had been
told that
the only
way to get to the mountains in the Northeast of Viet Nam was by train,
and
unless you want to take the hard seat you travel at night in a tourist
sleeper.
The hard seat was just that; a hard seat. Imagine a wooden slatted park
bench
and you are right there. We selected the four person soft sleeper. I
learned
that “soft” is a relative term, but there was a four inch padded
mattress and
clean sheets. Our guide and a student returning home for the weekend
joined us.
There were no platforms and no signs we could see directing us to the
correct
train so we gratefully let We had
breakfast in
the railway
town of
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The blouses have wide collar and cuffs decorated in the same way. The blouse itself and often the bottom of the skirt, is a made of rather startling velor that looks very out of place.
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 The
women all wear head scarves tied in various ways. Most are of a plaid
pattern
that would make a Scott proud yet is native to the region.
Around the waist at the front as well as behind, they tie an apron. Over that could be a strip of fabric or they could have a spare headscarf filled with items, used like a rather large pocket. In addition, they usually have one or two heavily embroidered bags across their shoulders. It is a colorful and many layered outfit. And of all the markets we went to, this was the least interesting! |
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 The
countryside between Bac Ha and Can Cau is dramatic with rolling hills of green on
green with
rice paddy terraces creating irregular steps up the slopes.The road was an
easy
two lanes
although it was not wise to look down the steep hillside because I
didn’t think
the bamboo guard rail would do more than to point out where you had
gone over
the side. Most of the traffic is motor scooters and one brave sole was
Sunday is market day
in Bac Ha, just 18km south of Can Cau
in case you miss their Saturday market. Everything a person could need
from
fresh vegetables to flowers, clothes both modern and traditional,
plastic
sandals and souvenirs for the visiting tourists is available. Some
customers
bought a fill of tobacco and smoked it through water in a long bamboo
tube
squatting together in a little group. Less interest was incurred by the
musician who played a wind instrument made from clay that looked like a
clarinet and sounded like a flute.
In Vietnam the family of ethnic groups is quite bedazzling if not bewildering. The tribes have come to this land over the centuries. Some consist of just a couple of hundred members whereas the Thai have over a million, and the Viet make up the vast majority of the population with almost sixty six million. In the countryside some tribes can be identified by their full shirts of highly decorated fabrics but others wear black form-fitting outfits with almost no embellishments. We visited villages that ware made up of homes on stilts and others that had have straw or mud huts on the ground. In the towns much of the individuality is lost on Western dress and motor scooters.  Here in Bac Ha the Red, Black and Flower Hmong were a glorious blend of color and smiling faces. Our hotel in
Bac Ha was very pleasant, clean & we had a good view. |
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We had been on this trip just three days and had to travel to Sapa to and collapse into bed and a sleep of over exertion and altitude exhaustion. |
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The French
discovered
more than
silver in the hills of northeast
Sapa is well developed for tourists but it is still enjoyable. The narrow streets are lined with interesting shops and restaurants filled with visitors sucking in the noodles of an evening.
We wanted to
watch
the dances of
the some of various ethnic groups which was to be performed on the top
of a
hill in the middle of town. We walked under a sign that read “Tourist
Hill” but
were assured the real name is “Dragon’s
There were well
laid
out gardens
between great jagged cliffs somewhat reminiscent of
As colorful as the costumes were the musicians. One man played an unusual three or four pipe, meter-long flute as he did summersaults and rolled about and lept from the floor. Later he made music with a piece bamboo leaf.
It was
entertaining
and
interesting but only one of the ethnic groups our guide wrote down for
us was
listed in the elaborate picture book I purchased later at the
I was eager to get to the market and see the hand made crafts and clothes. I never left one small area where I was being entertained by a lovely Red Hmong who of course sold me trinkets, and then by a group of Black Hmong. I was having such fun John left and roved the rest of the market and I didn’t see him for an hour. |
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 This
Red Hmong lady was delighted to show me how she assembled the necklaces
she was
selling and was most amused when I displayed her picture on my camera.
The
necklaces were 4-5 inches wide strips of fabric about two feet long.
They are
embroidered, often with little figures in order to encourage fertility,
and are
embellished with silver charms on a mostly red background. I doubt that
the
charms are actually silver but they are charming none the less.
Each of the women wanted me to buy from her and stopped peddling their well-worn Singer sewing machines to encourage a sale.
In the far corner I was fascinated to watch a group of Black Hmong spinning hemp. They had strips of the thin bark pealed from the stalks that they were shredding very thin. Then they were spinning these together and wrapping around their thumb and little finger creating bundles of yarn. |
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It was time to
get
some exercise
and take a hike to some of the more remote villages. The excuse was
limited
time, but it also saved a long walk to take the car.
It was a good hike to the bottom of the valley and over the swinging suspension bridge that traversed a river that would have made an appealing swimming hole had it been hot. We then hiked up the other side but cheated as the car waiting for us where the path joined the road and we went the lazy way to yet another village.
Ta Phin
was quite a different experience as most of the women had learned
English. This
made it not only more interesting but easier for them to make a sale.
We were
scheduled to take the night train
back to |
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We passed rice
paddies cut into
the sides of the sweeping steep slopes and little villages with homes
on stilts
or thatched houses sitting directly on the ground with walls of
matting. There
were cinnamon groves and slabs of the bark as big as your arm drying at
the
side of the road.
Mrs. Tran invited us upstairs and lit the fire in a sandpit in the middle of the wooden floor. She had it blazing in a minute and we were grateful for the hot tea she served in glasses the size of small eggcups. I was very glad that we had brought gifts so we could reciprocate. We always carry packets of seeds. Perhaps next year there will be Sweet Williams growing in there garden along with the vegetables next year. Our guide was disappointed that we didn’t have more flower seeds but insisted that we must not send him any as it was against the law to import seeds.
Grandma is 72 years old. This visit was my
most
precious
time in |
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We had sacrificed one of our days in
The first place
we
were obliged
to visit was the mausoleum of Ho Chi Minh. This was not particularly
interesting from the outside, just an overpowering rectangular
acropolis. The
corpse of the great man that is usually on display to the public was on
it’s
annual pilgrimage to
The prison the
I had been
looking
forward to the Ethnology History Museum. “Brand new ten years ago” our
guide
boasted, but
I don’t think it had been dusted since. It didn’t do the cultures
justice. It
will take a lot for me to understand the numerous minority groups and
branches,
their similarities and differences, or even how many there are. Beside
the Viet ethnic group that makes up 87% of the population, you will be
told that there are 53 other groups belonging to 5 main families.
However, the names in the official books and those on the postcards and
the people we met didn't match so I am now thorougherly confused.
We then made a
detour
from the
planned itinerary to visit to the Vietnam Red Cross. It was interesting
to
learn what programs were important to them like constructing “charity
houses”,
providing wheelchairs, household animal raising, and five programs for
Agent
Orange victims. We then took a short walk to visit the delegation of
the
American Red Cross who have an office that is working on various
projects in Cambodia and Laos as well. They had a great program to make
sure that the children had meals served in the schools. The
ARC was one of eight Societies of the International Federation of Red
Cross and
Red Crescent Societies that had adjacent offices. It was interesting to
see
what they were doing and how they were working together. Unfortunately
there
were no souvenirs, but I left a couple of pins and postcards of
There was an elaborate temple to Confucius and his disciples where the students visited to prey before exams.
That evening we were the honored guests of the owners of the tour company that had arranged our program. They were interested in how we liked it, and because I had operated my own company, wanted our ideas. Among other things, I explained how important it had been to us to see the Vietnamese countryside on our drive back from the mountains. It was just three days later that Typhoon Xangsane hit the coast and disrupted a tour program they were running. After what we had said they added a long tour through the country instead of the now impossible beach time and their clients were delighted. Fortunately we were well out of harms way and although thousands were evacuated from coastal areas, there were few deaths from the typhoon. |
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The next
morning we
had a two
hour drive to
The workmanship
was
amazing and
some of the tapestries were really pleasing, but we just don’t have
wall space
to hang another picture. We resisted buying one, almost did, but we
refrained.
But we didn’t
just
see factories
and workshops on the trip. There were towns and villages and all manner
of
vehicles joining us on the roads between. Most homes were tall and thin
like
row houses, but many don’t have neighbors. Just in case a home will be
built slap
up to it there are usually no windows on the sides. Highly colorful and
decorated fronts face the road with a bare cement wall each side. The
kitchen
and the grandparents quarters are on the ground floor, the
traditionally
parents live on the first floor and the children on the top floor
because they
are younger and can climb up more easily. |
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 Coal
dust was pervasive in one town with black dust accumulated in the
gutters and
visible in the air and red brick kilns bristling the landscape.
There were acres of rice paddies. In the 1970’s each person was given a portion of land, but so that a few would not get the best and areas and were closest to the village, the allotments were cut into very small parcels. One person might get a strip near home and another were he would have to carry the rice a long way. Looking across the fields you can see a dozen shades of green indicating the various degrees of ripeness of the rice of an individuals parcel. In this picture you can make out half a dozen shades of green between each paths.
Judging by the number of vessels we were not going to be the only people out there. At peak season there aren’t enough births on the 500 junks.
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 This
was the off season and although there must have been over a hundred
going out
that day there are enough islands and coves that the others were soon
lost.
Our cabin was
just
fine with a couple
of petite twin beds and an immaculate bathroom; white tile everywhere.
There
wasn’t much to tile as you could shower sitting on the commode, but it
had
everything. (Huong Hai Junk Co. [email protected] or www.halongdiscovery.com
There were ten of us and the staff tried to seat us according to our cabins but we mutinied. We scrambled our tables dining with different friends at each meal. We were a really mixed group: a wealthy French couple, an Spanish couple on their honeymoon, a single Dutchman who missed his wife, an Australian couple and a single Australian/Chinese/Malay women. All interesting and entertaining company.
Rock islands jutted around us. Greenery clutched to ledges in vertical cliffs and smoothing the jagged tops of the islands. Some islands were completely bald and others were green to the tide line. Areas were white where the limestone was too smooth and vertical for even the dirt to cling. As the islands receded they became a blur against each other even though the furthest was no more than 2 miles off.
The first day
we
walked half way
up an island and into a limestone cave. The second day we climbed to
the top of
an island to
The only disappointment was that we didn’t get a real sunset as we were moored for the night in a cove and the sun slid behind one of the hundreds of islets long before it really set.  Never-the-less
John brought out the bottle of
scotch he had been
carrying
around for the past week and we shared a glass all round. There was an
ample
bar on board, but we had been lugging the bottle for this very purpose.
Then we
went for a swim as the warm night wrapped around us and the junk stood
out like
a black ghost ship against the sky. This might look like a sunset shot
but
actually the sun is muted by the smoke caused by the annual burn-off
before the
monsoons come.
I was the first
person up in the morning.
I hoped to could sit on deck sipping a cup of coffee but all the staff
were
strewn about the dining room fast asleep on the pads taken from the
chairs.
Curled up in a wicker couch on deck I watched as hundreds of islands
appeared
out of the shadows. We were in the middle of a forest of islands. They
were
layers of shadows upon shadows rising like rocky teeth out of the
water. Shards
of rocks cast dark reflections on the rippled water. The light grew
around me.
The only things moving were the reflections of the junks around us and
the star
on the red flag of
Women wearing cone hats appeared selling bottled water and fruit. They paddled their dhows standing facing forward in these round baskets boats. Their oars moved awkwardly tied to row locks with string.
An occasional tourist wondered the deck of a neighboring junk. You could tell when a crew member moved as they had purpose to their actions and did not stand on awe of their surroundings.
Suddenly a bright light appeared in the water. It was the sun. It had risen over an island behind me. The breeze picked up and the flags stood out. Small craft were dotting the spaces between the score of junks anchored in the bay and the hum of outboard motors filled the silence. I could hear plates being clattering in the galley and I yearned for that cup of coffee. More people were visible strolling the decks of the larger vessels and our crew was moving. A young crewman brought me a cup of coffee. It smelled rich and black. It was so rich and black that it made my toes curl up. Just the way he liked it. I could have done with fifty percent more water and some cream. |
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for our last
dinner in
We had an uneventful trip but unfortunately there was a power outage in the part of town with the French café. After a good croissant we returned to the hotel for a cup of the local very dark coffee, that they drink muted with a spoonful of sweetened condensed milk. |
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At this point I would like to highly recommend
the tour operator who set up this program for us. With my usual system
of planning, I contacted them on the Wednesday and they had it all set
up to meet us at the airport that Friday. They made the changes we
requested as we went along, the guides were good and spoke excellent
English (a most important factor) and the price was good. They have the
5 star hotels, but we requested the 2 star and were more than happy. I
plan to use them again in November and with pre-planning they have set
up a treks by elephant, dugout canoe and bicycle to visit out of the
way villages, and a trip on a xeloi,
whatever that is! I'll tell you after Christmas. |
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| Harriet
October 5, 2006 © 2006 Harriet Halkyard |
mountains
have
retained
traditional lifestyles and customs. The Flower Hmong lady shown
making a purchase in the picture to the left has a full skirt
made up of
wide bands of colored fabrics sewn together. You can see some of the
bundled
strips for sale in front of her. These are heavily machine stitched and
appliquéd to create the striped pattern.
herding
his buffalo along the road from his motorbike. Other traffic was the
sturdy
little ponies and people walking.
This old lady’s
hands
were a blur
until she paused to look at the pictures I brought of 
the
clothes. The Black Hmong are also known for
their use
of indigo as a die. Although they are called Black Hmong, it is
actually a dark
indigo blue that they wear. 
The
little indigo plants were growing everywhere like nettles at the side
of the
path, and farther along you could see where they were cultivated in
patches where
rice would not grow. I picked a stem and crushed it between my fingers
but it
was just a clear liquid that wet my hand. A few minutes later I saw
that I had
blue stains on my fingers. It is the juice of the stalks not the
berries that
creates the color. The women I’d seen in the market had deep blue in
every
crevice of their hands.
Unfortunately they were so intent on asking inane questions like “Where
are you
from?” and “How many children do you have?” that they didn’t talk about
themselves at all. John is not good at bargaining and they knew a
sucker when
they saw one. 
We
stopped at one last village. 
We
were also able to entertain young master Tran and grandma with our
balloon
making. Perhaps that is why it took 12 hours to make it back to 
Near
the One Pillar Pagoda we visited a temple where by chance a family was
celebrating the life of a member who had just died. They wore
predominately
black and the immediate family had white headbands. They were sitting
in and
around the steps of the temple having a picnic. In just a minute they
cleaned
up and the place was empty except for the offerings on the altar and
smoke
lingering from the simmering incense. 
The
puppeteers stand in the water behind the screen and control the puppets
on long
poles. They make fish jump out of the water chased by a fisherman and
workers
planted rice and boys played on water buffalo. All the while there were
musicians and singers providing the vocals. It was fun and entertaining.
that I
could look up at. I limited myself to a four inch jug, but you can see
them at
the end of the display.
“You
have very nice junk” our guide told us as we clambered along a stone
dock next
to the water, hanging onto our bags, past a mass of wooden boats.
If
we look happy we are. I was utterly amazed at the quality of the
boat,
the service and the food. I had muttered something about being a
vegetarian to
the tour operator at the beginning of our venture but it hadn’t really
be
successful. I was just served what John got, less the meat. Here they
were
served enormous shrimp and crab and all sorts of goodies. I got a dish
of
something that the waiter insisted was mushrooms but for the life of me
I
couldn’t tell it from tough meat. Before the next meal the waiter came
up to me
and said the chef was having trouble with vegetarian food to I told him
to
forget it and I enjoyed glorious fresh sea food from then on. 
The
rock formations were delightful and everywhere you looked there were
different
vistas with shades of blue-grey fading into the distance. We paddle
gently
through a tunnel in one of the rocks and came out into water completely
surrounded by high rock walls. It was strange and very quiet and very
still.
Then suddenly another boat load of tourists burst into our lagoon and
exploded
the tranquility.
enjoy
dramatic views in all directions. Those who didn’t want to make the
hike could
take a swim off the little beach. John and I did both.
For
our final morning we took a