The first day we went to visit inside the valley a town called Cat Bai inhabited by one of those ethnic minorities. Together with some English women that I found along the way we followed the path and entered the valley until we reached another village where the children were scared and hid when they saw us. Some bathed naked and jumping into the rump of the buffalo in a small lake, someone else filmed them with a serrano ham knife, so we prefer not to take too many photos and follow the path. The English stopped to eat and I followed the road through the valley that took me between spectacular rice plantations and the occasional marijuana where more than one would have been gladly lost ...
The road then seemed to get lost in the brush and here the real trekking began. I knew about the proximity of a road along the valley and I followed my instincts. I began to climb a river through a thick jungle that left my clothes darker than the skin of a native of the area.
After half an hour of following the course of the ascending river I arrived at some spectacular waterfalls with more than 40 meters of fall that were more or less allowed to climb. Upon reaching the top, the noise of a motorcycle. I was fed up with the noise of motorcycles all over Vietnam but this time it was my glory to hear that buzz again! A couple more jumps in the brush and I could reach the road and step on firm ground. Just then, four Vietnamese people passed by and they looked at me with a strange face, they also observed the thick hole of vegetation that I came from and they looked at me again with the face of “these tourists are like a goat!”
I smiled at them, invited them to a cigarette and celebrated with them my return to civilization! He had reached Tram Tom Pass, a neck between valleys at 2000 meters and 16 km from Sapa by road from which he came. The views of both valleys with the Fansipan at my side of 3143 meters were wonderful. I returned quietly down the road on firm ground and I met again after a while with the English and a group of Belgians who had indicated a shorter and not so rugged path. Back to town, a shower and we all went out for dinner and ended up in a Vietnamese karaoke drinking rice wine (a kind of brandy) until many.