Tired and cold from the previous night's hike from the city center to our homestay located in a village deep in the hillside of Sapa, I exulted at the sight of sunlight creeping into our spacious second-floor room. That meant the temperature was hovering near ten degrees compared to the almost two or negative two degrees that had chilled us the night before when I lay shaking even under a thick blanket.
Hiking with the Hill People in the Scenic Sapa Region | Vietnam
The weather was still cold when we commenced day two of our trek just after we downed a hearty breakfast consisting of fresh fruits and pancakes. I felt more comfortable in the weather, which had become bearable enough to take off a jacket, just as my fellow hiker from the UK, Alyson, did. Our hiking party all got to meet each other for the first time the day before when we all arrived in Sapa as passengers of the train from Hanoi—the one that had stopped in a random town for seven hours, thereby delaying our arrival until late afternoon. Because of that unforeseen hiccup, we started our hike at around 4:30 PM. Many hours behind our schedule, we hiked until darkness.
An International Hiking Alliance
Our group was composed of Alyson and Serena from the UK—both avid travelers who were journeying in Chile at the time—the only ones I reconnected with via Facebook after the trip. There were five other young professionals from California who were of Chinese and Vietnamese descent, two of whom were married in Saigon a few days later, while a towering couple from the Czech Republic completed the cast.
During our night trek, while struggling to find our footing in the dark, one of the Asian-Americans in our group asked aloud, "Where are the tall people?" I turned my head, and there they were, lagging a few dozen meters behind, accompanied by one of our guides who belonged to either the Hmong or the Dao hill tribes of Sapa.
Actually, our tour organizer had only provided one local guide, but we were nonetheless accompanied by around six to seven more locals, including two adorable young girls who could speak English well. One of them kept asking me questions like, "Are you married?", "Do you want to live here?", and "What is your country like?" to which I told her, "My country, the Philippines, is just like yours—lots of mountains too and rice fields, just without the snow."
The Ethnic Mosaic of the Highlands
There were five ethnic groups in the region of Sapa, consisting of the Hmong (52%), Dao (25%), Tay (5%), Giay (2%), and a tiny percentage of the Xa Pho people, alongside the local Vietnamese population.
Even with the many similarities in scenery to my home countryside, the monotonous greenery and sweeping landscape of rice fields stretched like our very own rice terraces. The snow-capped peaks of the nearby mountains, all relentless in splendor, made my eyes glisten in a visual banquet. What savored my vision made my huffing and puffing take a backseat as I enjoyed numerous solitary breaks, staring at my surroundings and repeatedly mouthing whispers of awe.
We had our longest rest atop a hill that provided a magnificent 360-degree view of the mountain range. While the wind picked up pace, the sunlight kept us warm at the same time. As I sat exhausted on the grass, I ran my hands over it as I would over a lover's hair, massaging it just enough to get mounds of earth on my skin. I watched my fellow hikers pose for jumping pictures on camera, while our guides—some of them even carrying babies—smiled back at us.
A Beautiful Culmination in the Mountains
No doubt it was a beautiful day. Our hike lasted for another four to five hours that day, taking us along long trails leading to brilliant viewing vantage points, through pockets of tiny villages, and past a small waterfall. When we finally reached the town at the end of our route, a hot pho lunch was already waiting for us.
The trek itself was not just an exercise that moved every inch of my leg muscles; it also moved new information into my head about that vertical, land-locked region. Even though the cold had bothered me the night before—as we all sat around a table with burning charcoals underneath heating our feet, talking about travels—the people I met along the trail who belonged to the minority groups added a semblance of uniqueness to the overall experience.
Even as our hiking party went its separate ways—the five going to Saigon to attend their friends' wedding, Alyson and Serena returning to Hanoi, and the two tall Czech travelers who I wondered if they were still trotting around the world—my memory of those two days would forever be intertwined with their own set of recollections. That would be our lasting link to each other, all thanks to the chance to travel.
