Day 10: Bắc Hà to Thông Nguyên
Index
| Day 1 | Departure Oslo |
| Day 2 | To Hanoi |
| Day 3 | Hanoi sightseeing and night train to Lào Cai |
| Day 4 | Sa Pa, Mường Hoa Valley – Sín Chải A |
| Day 5 | Sín Chải A to Nậm Cang |
| Day 6 | Nậm Cang to Sa Pa |
| Day 7 | To Fansipan campsite at 2800m |
| Day 8 | Mt. Fansipan – Bắc Hà |
| Day 9 | Bắc Hà market |
| Day 10 | Bắc Hà to Thông Nguyên |
| Day 11 | Hà Giang |
| Day 12 | Back to Hanoi |
| Day 13 | Departure Hanoi |
Bắc Hà
Monday: We had spent the night in Bắc Hà, and the plan for the day was to drive up to the Hoàng Su Phì district, then down to Thông Nguyên, and from there hike up to a lodge where we would spend the night.
There were pancakes for breakfast. It was a breakfast we had become accustomed to…
I was surprised when I later found a picture of a huntsman spider among Anne’s photos. It was probably just as well that she didn’t tell me about it…
Although I have a touch of arachnophobia, I’m probably being somewhat unfair to this creature. It poses no danger to humans and actually performs a useful service in places like this by keeping the area free of cockroaches, large insects, and even other spiders. So, perhaps one should think of it as an unpaid cleaner…
After breakfast came the usual routine of hauling all the luggage to the bus.
And then we were back on the bus…
Rice harvesting
After a while, the bus stopped, as our guide wanted to show us how rice is harvested. We “crashed” right into the lunch of some farmers, who didn’t seem at all disturbed by a bus full of foreigners about to take over the harvest…
We had been told quite a bit about rice during our trek in the Mường Hoa Valley, but we hadn’t actually seen the rice being harvested. This could be interesting!
These farmers were using a portable mechanical thresher powered by a small gasoline engine.
Before the actual cutting begins, the rice fields undergo a visible transformation. The standing water must be drained, and the ground must dry out and harden. The latter is essential for allowing the farmers to work on the field and for operating the machinery. The rice stalks have turned from green to a golden hue, indicating that the grain is mature and ready for harvesting.
Once the rice is cut (using sickles), it is gathered into bundles and brought over to a central clearing laid out with large tarpaulins to catch the loose grains.
The top of the rice bundles is fed directly into the spinning drum of the thresher. The machine beats the grain heads, instantly separating the rice paddy (the grains still in their protective husks) from the stalks.
The separated grains shoot out onto the striped tarpaulin, forming piles of raw rice, while the beaten stalks are set aside.
We were also invited to try this out.
When the farmers realized that we weren’t destroying the entire crop, it looked as though they relaxed and enjoyed their lunch…
Nothing from the harvest goes to waste. The leftover stalks (straw) seen gathered across the field serve as animal feed (primarily water buffaloes and cattle), various agricultural uses and also thatch for roofing or fuel for cooking fires.
The grains collected on the tarp are still in their raw “paddy” state and require immediate post-harvest processing, which include drying (the rice will be spread out in thin layers on concrete yards, roadsides [as we had seen earlier], or mats), milling (removing the outer husks to produce brown rice) and then follows storage (bagging)
I noticed that the bundles of straw were tied together with – straw!
This method of binding is generally referred to as making nek (sheaves) – that is, binding grain into bundles (straw binding). This is an ancient, global agricultural technique that was used all over the world before combine harvesters took over, Since there was no access to external twine or wire, people used the most natural and readily available material: the stalks from the crop itself.
Even after the harvest is complete, stubble always remains in the field. This is because farmers cut the stalks high enough to capture the upper portion – containing the rice grains – along with just enough stem to hold onto during the threshing process.
The rice paddy is transformed into a new, natural source of food. Water buffalos and cattle can graze on the remaining rice straw stubble and the fresh grass growing up among it. This is often referred to as “stubble grazing“
Poultry love these fields right after harvest. They run around, pecking up all the grains of rice that inevitably fall to the ground during the cutting process.
The stumps and roots remaining in the ground are either plowed back into the soil as green manure before the next season, or they are burned in the field so that the ash can provide nutrients for the next rice crop.
We thanked the farmers for their hospitality, patience and “willingness to take risk” and then we got back on the bus…
This was very interesting, and now we wondered what kind of adventure awaited around the next bend…
I must admit that I was a bit nervous on the long descents. The fear that the brakes might overheat was present.
But the driver knew how to use the flow brake – an incredibly important safety system for heavy vehicles, known technically as a “retarder” – an absolutely vital system when driving down the extremely steep and winding mountain roads in areas such as Hoàng Su Phì.
Cốc Pài, Xín Mần
The next stop was Panorama Homestay Xín Mần – a fantastic vantage point overlooking the town of Cốc Pài.
Cốc Pài is the district capital of Xín Mần District in Hà Giang Province.
We noticed a quite distinct installation…
The two heads looking at each other represent a couple in love from the local ethnic minorities (such as the Hmong or Nung people) that characterize the Xín Mần mountains. It alludes young people from different villages that find love. It also symbolizes the close-knit community and harmony among the people who live in these steep, challenging mountainous areas.
The large hand reaching up toward the sky has a several meanings, one of them being hospitality and welcome. An open, upturned hand – a feature in Vietnamese tourism architecture (heavily inspired by the famous Golden Bridge in Da Nang – an amazing sculpture!) – serves as an invitation. It symbolizes that the location welcomes travelers and protects the visitors who come to enjoy the amazing view over the valley.
Here, coffee lovers could enjoy proper coffee, rather than the “sugar-infested swill” we so often encountered elsewhere 😉
Others were happy with something cold to drink…
This break was welcome. I got a chance to take some photos of the town and the surrounding mountains, and regardless of how good the braking systems on modern buses are, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to let the brakes cool down a bit…
A small dog wanted to be at the center of the action but was likely too afraid to seek direct contact.
Papaya was no longer a rare sight, but it was still strange to see fruit growing everywhere…
Hoàng Su Phì
On the way toward Hoàng Su Phì, the road condition deteriorated significantly. I could see from the map that we still had a long way to go.
If it continued like this, we would have a long day on the bus!
Kong must have thought we needed some entertainment on the bumpy road, so he fetched a leaf from a “lipstick tree” – also known as the Lipstick Tree or Annatto.
In addition to being a fun thing for tourists to try on their lips, this substance is used globally in the food industry to provide a deep yellow-orange color to products such as Cheddar cheese, margarine, and dishes like Vietnamese rice.
My conclusion was that the ladies were probably not ready to discard their regular lipstick in favor of this plant.
After a while, we were down by the Chảy River.
The road condition had somewhat improved, and it was possible to take photos from the bus.
A bit later, we passed the Song Chay 3 Hydropower Plant (Song is Vietnamese for River)
We were not far from the Chinese border (Yunnan Province). I estimated the shortest distance, as the crow flies, to be between 3 and 5 kilometers.
Finally, we were approaching the town of Vinh Quang – where we were to stop for lunch.
According to the tour program, I thought we came to the town of Hoàng Su Phì.
But Hoàng Su Phì is the district, situated in the mountainous region of Hà Giang Province with Vinh Quang being the district capital.
There was only one place to eat in this town, and the guides went inside to check whether they could serve food that met the standards the guides found acceptable.
Apparently – they could – and we were served a nice meal. It felt very reassuring that the guides took this seriously, as I wasn’t particularly keen on getting sick while on a bus high up in the mountains of northern Vietnam.
But seeing locals eating at the same place is always reassuring…
It was particularly interesting to see Kong take over the kitchen as if it were his own. No one seemed to object. They were probably just happy to have the business.
An advantage of this place was that it had three toilets, spread across three floors. Access to toilets for a group of 17 (including guides and the driver) could sometimes be a challenge.
After lunch, there was an opportunity to stroll around the town a bit.
Some in the group still had some money left…
Others just walked around and took pictures…
We also got to see the sacred lotus flower (Nelumbo nucifera) in bud form. Although its dense, pointed shape and purplish-pink color might make it look a lot like a red onion at first glance, this is the initial phase of the national flower og India and Vietnam.
The below picture shows the lotus flower after blooming.
We walked on, and at first glance, everything appeared to be in perfect order.
But then…
The below picture captures one of the most fascinating, chaotic, and notorious visual quirks of Vietnam! Travelers often humorously refer to this phenomenon as “spider webs” or “spaghetti wiring“
Under this bridge in Vinh Quang – is not just power cables; in fact, the vast majority consists of telecommunication, internet, and television wires.
When the internet, cable TV, and telephone lines rapidly increased in number in Vietnam during the 1990s and 2000s, the priority for providers was to connect customers as quickly and cheaply as possible. They simply strung new cables onto the existing utility poles.
When a household switches internet service providers, or a line gets damaged, no one climbs up to remove the old cable. It is simply left hanging, while a brand-new cable is run alongside it. Perhaps as much as 70-80% of the wires in such bundles are non-functioning cables that are not in use at all!
In major cities like Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City, the authorities have now launched massive projects to bury cables underground; however, in smaller regional towns like Vinh Quang, this unique “spaghetti network” will remain a familiar sight on the streets for many years to come.
We were by now accustomed to seeing banners – worthy of a socialist republic – and this town was no exception. The banner across the street said; “The Vietnam Youth Federation of Tuyen Quang Province acts in support of the comprehensive development of the youth of Tuyen Quang!”
One thing about the Vietnamese language that I quickly noticed was how short the words are. This is surely not unique to Vietnam, but at one point I began to wonder if there were any words longer than six letters.
I asked our guide, and he had to check the internet. It seemed to be a definitive answer: apparently, there is only one word that is as long as seven letters – “nghiêng” – which means “to lean” or “to be at an angle.” Vietnam is truly “world-class” when it comes to word division; you don’t even need a hyphen to continue a word on the next line…
More rice fields…
After a pleasant stay in Vinh Quang, we were back on the bus, heading toward Thông Nguyên. The road quality was better now, but after a while, we were to leave the ĐT177 and take a more direct route straight south. The road standard was now more mediocre than bad…
After a few minutes, we stopped at “Hau Homes” – an incredible viewpoint overlooking beautiful rice paddies. This seemed like a private Homestay. But by now, we were used to the fact that Kong wasn’t all that concerned about “the sanctity of private life“…
These fields had for the most part been harvested, and we could clearly see the remaining rice plant stubble. Some of the terraces still had standing rice waiting to be cut, but the darker strips clearly show where the farmers have already finished. The threshing machine, or perhaps sacks of grain, is likely stored under the blue tarp in the picture below.
When we were in Mường Hoa Valley, I was wondering how these terraces are developed.
When a new terrace is built, or an existing one is being maintained, farmers dig up the clay soil and mix it with water to create a thick mud. They then use their feet, hands, or water buffaloes to tread and knead the clay for hours.
This process breaks down the soil structure and forces out air pockets. When this dense clay mass is packed firmly together to form the edge of the terrace, it dries into an almost watertight, cement-like barrier.
What destroys a slope is water in uncontrolled motion. Rice terraces are built to stop the water. Every single surface is dug out to be perfectly level – 100% horizontal. When it rains heavily, the terrace fills up like a flat bathtub. The water does not flow over the edge where it is most vulnerable; instead, the farmers create small, controlled sluices or outlets lined with stone or bamboo pipes. The water is thus guided gently from terrace to terrace in a controlled zigzag pattern down the mountainside, which takes the force out of the volume of water.
If you look closely at the edges of the terraces in the below picture, you will see that they are covered by a dense layer of green grass. The farmers cut this grass, but they never remove it by the roots. The grass’s dense root network acts as a natural reinforcement, binding the clay together and preventing the soil from washing away when rain lashes against the bank.
Although these techniques make the terraces incredibly robust, they require an immense amount of maintenance. After every harvest and before each new planting season, families must head out with shovels to fill cracks, rebuild edges that have slumped, and clear the water channels. The rice terraces are not monuments that stand on their own – they are a living cultural landscape that demands continuous, hard physical labor to prevent them from being washed away by the monsoon.
To me, Life in Hanoi seemed hard and uncertain. Life in the countryside seemed hard but secure. After only 10 days in the country, this was more of a feeling than a conclusion…
But one thing I could conclude was that this was an incredibly beautiful country…
And I am sure that our guide completely agreed with that…
While I was photographing mountains and valleys, Anne was interested in what it looked like inside the building…
In the end, we met up and concluded that we were both were having a great time!
Thông Nguyên
A car stopped and told our driver that the road ahead was closed due to a landslide. This meant we had to head back onto the ĐT177 and take a slightly longer route to the town.
Thông Nguyên is subregion of Hoàng Su Phì, in turn part of the Ha Giang province. But I do not know for certain whether the town we were heading to is called Thông Nguyên.
All the mountains we saw were covered in forest. Naturally, I wondered whether there would be trails along the ridges, or if it was pure jungle up there…
Finally, we arrived in the town…
Just as we stepped off the bus and prepared to head to where we were going to sleep, Kong realized that he had completely forgotten about the visit to the local tea factory.
Someone from the lodge was waiting with a motorbike and trailer, and then it was just a matter of unloading all the bags…
The guys seemed to have full control…
Fìn Hò Trà – Tea factory
Then the journey continued to the tea factory, along a bumpy road and a river…
Finally, we arrived at the tea factory.
This really was a factory!
It wasn’t the season for tea production right then, so we had to settle for samples inside the shop.
The official name of the enterprise is the Phin Ho Tea Processing Cooperative (often marketed as Fìn Hò Trà, and FÌN HÒ TEA on Google Maps) The factory is located a couple of kilometers north of the center of Thông Nguyên, beautifully situated along the river deep within the valley.
The cooperative is largely run by the local Red Dao people, who have managed the remarkable feat of elevating traditional tea from humble origins to international, organically certified luxury products (holding EU Organic certification and a national 5-star OCOP rating).
However, the true secret of the tea does not lie down in the valley, but rather high up on the mountain peaks – at altitudes between 1,300 and 2,400 meters. There you will find ancient, wild tea trees of the Shan Tuyết variety. Many of these trees are between 100 and 500 years old. The name “Shan Tuyết” means “snow tea,” a reference to the fact that the buds are covered in a distinctive layer of fine, white, downy hairs that resemble snow. The constant mist, low temperatures, and pure mountain air give the tea a unique, complex, and sweet-toned flavor.
However, the process of refining the tea is so long and complex that I will leave it aside here. This blog post is already long enough…
We got to taste white, black, and red tea. Those who enjoy tea surely found it heavenly. For me – someone who doesn’t drink tea (or, if I have to, with sugar) – it tasted mostly like coffee without the coffee.
In any case, it was great to see young people succeeding in a business. I wish them all the best, and hopefully, the tea we bought was enough to make the owners feel like it was a “good day at work“…
Hoàng Su Phì Lodge
We returned to the town and looked forward to reaching our destination, enjoying a good meal, and then settling into (hopefully) comfortable beds.
We were told that we had to walk from the town, as the bus couldn’t go there. That was perfectly fine, as most people felt it was good to be able to walk a little.
We passed a cornfield…
The dry, brown husks surrounding the cob have opened up, peeled back, and drooped downward. This occurs naturally as the corn reaches full maturity, dries out, and shrinks while still on the plant.
In Mường Hoa – where we saw corncobs drying on the ground or under cover – harvesting tends to happen a bit earlier, as the fog and cold set in more quickly in the deep valleys surrounding Fansipan.
In the Hoàng Su Phì region, the warmer and more open landscape allows farmers to leave the maize out in the fields for longer; this enables the initial, primary drying phase to take place right on the land, before the crop is brought home.
I had a wonderful time as we walked up the mountain road. I hope the others did too…
There were of course rice terraces up here as well…
I thought I heard that it was about 3 km up to the place where we were going to spend the night. Given Kong’s “track record” with approximations, it was probably best to expect double that.
The distance didn’t matter to me. There were things to see around every single bend.
Kong had promised us a shortcut, but it was clearly a long time since he had been here, and he had to check the map a bit more closely…
The result was that we had to follow the road a bit further…
But in the end, he found the shortcut…
Fortunately, one might say. Because the road we were on did not lead to our accommodation (we should have turned much earlier). So, finding this “shortcut” was quite important…
It became clear early on that there were many places to stay up here. And given the 3 km estimate, we guessed wrong about arriving several times. The term “false lodge” was coined (akin to “false summit”).
But why were there so many accommodations up here?
We were now heading into the heart of Nậm Hồng. This particular area offers some of the most spectacular and photogenic rice terraces in all of Vietnam. In fact, the rice terraces in the Hoàng Su Phì region have been officially designated a National Heritage Site by the Vietnamese Ministry of Culture.
Tourists – and photographers in particular – come to this “postcard landscape” because the terraces are arranged like giant amphitheaters around deep valleys, offering truly incredible panoramic views from the bungalows, especially during the “golden season” just before the harvest.
The Thông Nguyên highlands are the traditional homeland of the Red Dao people. This ethnic minority is world-renowned for its hospitality, colorful traditional attire – complete with red headwear – and, perhaps most notably, its famous medicinal herbal baths.
The lodges here offer more than just a view; they provide an immersive cultural experience. Staying in the highlands allows tourists to step directly into the local villages, discover traditional handicrafts, and unwind in barrels filled with steaming-hot herbal infusions after a long day of travel.
After 4,4 km and 360 meters of elevation gain, we arrived. We got there just before dark.
Each “couple” was given their own bungalow. Anne and I were the only couple, but after ten days the group had managed to organize things well in terms of double-occupancy rooms.
There was nothing wrong with the rooms. Large cockroaches and small bats did not trigger the same kind of “panic” they might otherwise have caused. We were in the heart of nature; we shouldn’t have been surprised that small creatures live there…
And then the power went out…
But the power was only out in the bungalows. People in the main building didn’t quite grasp the problem when I tried to explain it. Even the lights outside the bungalows were working. Eventually, Tang came down and took charge of the situation. Within half an hour, the power was back on.
For many years, the authorities in Ha Giang province have invested heavily in what they call “community-based tourism“. Instead of constructing large, unsightly concrete hotels down in the town, they have encouraged and subsidized the building of smaller, eco-friendly wooden and bamboo bungalows up on the mountainsides. This ensures that a greater share of tourism revenue goes to the local population – such as the tea factory we visited – which has led to a minor “lodge boom” on this particular mountainside.
It was good to sit down and relax after a long day on the road.
Then dinner was served. It was, of course, exquisite. Kong had likely kept an eye on this kitchen as well.
One might not think there was anything particularly special about a group of guests stopping by for a single night. But competition is likely stiff up here, and I reckon that even though we only stayed for one night, it could be a real help to this particular place.
The beds had mosquito nets. It was easy enough to get used to them, and although we had seen quite a few mosquitoes during our stay in northern Vietnam, I didn’t feel any anxiety about getting bitten.
I think the vast majority got a good night’s sleep.
The hike to the lodge: 4,4km, 365 vertical meters, 1h:26m
