Day 12: Going home
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 | Thông Nguyên to Hà Giang |
| Day 12 | Going home |
Wednesday: Our final day in Vietnam had finally arrived. I would have happily continued the journey, had it not been for a job I had to return to.
We were in Hà Giang and had spent the night at Hotel Phoenix, on the banks of the Lo River.
From our room at the hotel, we had a direct view of a recently constructed water level control across the Lô River. Surprisingly, it wasn’t built to generate electricity, but to maintain a stable water level through Hà Giang, particularly during the dry season. The project also includes a road bridge and is intended to improve the city’s riverside landscape.
Hà Giang seemed like a slow-paced town. The rush-hour traffic appeared to be manageable.
At 10 AM, we left the hotel and boarded the bus that would take us to the airport in Hanoi.
But the bus stopped after only 20 minutes. Kong wanted us to see the Vi Xuyen Martyrs’ Cemetery (Nghia Trang Liet Si Vi Xuyen).
This cemetery was constructed between 1990 and 1991.
Relations between China and Vietnam were marked by a series of conflicts during the 1980s. One major source of tension was Vietnam’s invasion of Cambodia in 1978, which overthrew the Chinese-backed Khmer Rouge regime. China responded by invading northern Vietnam in 1979, but the conflict between the two countries was far from over.
In April 1984, China launched a major offensive in the Laoshan mountain area along the border with Vietnam. Fighting in the densely forested mountains of northern Vietnam was challenging enough, and the steep terrain certainly didn’t make things any easier. However, controlling these heights offered important military advantages, particularly for observation and artillery positions.
After several weeks of fighting, the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) had captured several strategic positions in the Laoshan and Zheyinshan areas. Vietnam launched major counterattacks in June and July, but failed to recapture the lost territory.
Although the most intense fighting subsided, clashes and artillery exchanges continued for several more years. Vietnam did not abandon its military involvement in Cambodia, and China continued to maintain pressure along the border. The fighting gradually diminished towards the end of the decade, and relations between the two countries were finally normalized in 1991.
The human cost was enormous. More than 4,000 Vietnamese soldiers were killed and over 9,000 wounded in the fighting around Vị Xuyên. The bloodiest day was July 12, 1984, when more than 600 Vietnamese soldiers lost their lives.
Today, it contains the graves of more than 1,800 fallen soldiers, including many who remain unidentified. More than 2,000 soldiers have yet to be recovered from the former battlefields, where the rugged terrain and the remnants of war continue to make recovery efforts extremely difficult.
Throughout the cemetery, loudspeakers played a continuous, repetitive sound that was difficult to describe for a foreigner. Maybe it was prayers. Whatever it was, it added considerably to the solemn atmosphere.
I had never even heard of this war. I had heard of the Khmer Rouge, of course, but knew next to nothing about them.
The world was a little too big for a young man in the Royal Norwegian Navy back in 1984. We had enough to worry about with the Cold War. Norwegian diplomat Arne Treholt had been arrested for espionage, and the Swedish Navy was hunting suspected Soviet submarines in its own waters.
But 1984 also gave us the Summer Olympics in Los Angeles. And what I remember most vividly from the opening ceremony was the man who flew into the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum with a jetpack. I grew up reading the adventures of Ingeniør Knut Berg, a Norwegian comic-book hero who travelled through space in rockets long before I knew what a rocket actually was.
To me, the man with the jetpack was Ingeniør Knut Berg. I remember thinking that the world was about to change forever.
And while I was dreaming about the future, young men were dying in the mountains of northern Vietnam. A war I knew nothing about until more than forty years later.
On our way back to the bus, Kong showed us a Roxburgh fig tree (Ficus auriculata), aka Elephant ear tree, with large clusters of unusual, ribbed figs growing directly from its trunk and branches.
The figs are edible and have a variety of culinary uses. They can be eaten fresh or dried, made into jams and juices, or used in salads and curries. The tree also has a long history of use in traditional medicine, with its fruits, leaves and bark used for various remedies.
We got to taste it, and Anne thought this was the best fig she had ever tasted.
After the tour of the cemetery, we continued toward Hanoi. We had an unscheduled stop when the bus was flagged down for an inspection. It wasn’t that the driver didn’t have his “paperwork in order” – it was the “digital paperwork” that wasn’t in order. I don’t know exactly what the problem was, but after nearly half an hour, the driver was given permission to proceed.
Then it was time for lunch.
We stopped at Ánh Tuyết Restaurant, also listed on Google Maps as Thắng Chung Restaurant.
The concept was well-known by now. We were given small bowls, and a wide array of ingredients was placed on the table. I have never learned to eat with chopsticks, but I didn’t feel clumsy. I had been observing the locals – some held the chopsticks high up, others held them lower down. I concluded: “Whatever works for you“
I enjoyed traveling by bus (as long as there weren’t any steep hills descending endless valley sides).
Throughout our journey in northern Vietnam, we frequently saw columns of smoke rising from the fields and hillsides. Much of this was probably farmers burning agricultural waste after harvesting, a quick way to clear the land for the next crop. The resulting ash also returns some minerals to the soil, although burning comes at an environmental cost.
Most of the smoke was white, but occasionally we saw darker clouds. Back home, dark smoke usually means trouble. Here, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
Kong explained that if a fire spread out of control in these mountains, there would be no helicopters coming to the rescue. Instead, people would have to clear firebreaks to stop the flames from spreading.
It really felt as we were approaching Hanoi now.
Then we crossed a river. I think Kong said it was the “Red River” (Sông Hồng) But most likely, we crossed the Lô River (Sông Lô), one of the major tributaries of the Red River.
I thought we were heading straight to the airport, but then the bus stopped outside a shopping center – Trạm dừng chân Phước An. I thought, “Oh no – not again!” But it was really just a bathroom break – coincidentally at a shopping center.
All of a sudden, I found myself in a shop selling lovely silk scarves, and I could easily picture my elderly mother – who will soon be 82 – looking quite elegant in one of them. So, I ended up using my credit card for the first time during the trip. I don’t think my mother is reading my blog. If I’m wrong, she’ll probably be able to guess what’s inside that soft present…
The sun was setting, and now we were truly on our way into the Hanoi vicinity…
It felt a bit unreal. I knew this day was coming, of course, but it arrived a little too suddenly…
And just after 6 PM, we arrived at the airport. We were able to thank Kong, Tang, and the driver (whose name I never learned) for an absolutely incredible journey.
And then it was just a matter of waiting for check-in to open…
Check-in opened an hour earlier than expected – that is, three hours before the flight’s scheduled departure. Virtually all had already checked in online, so we really just needed to drop off our luggage. Most of us sat around waiting, while some took the opportunity to get a massage.
The check-in queue was incredibly long, but I stopped a staff member and asked how we could go about dropping off our bags. He said, “Come with me” and we set off on a express journey past the queue.
There was practically no line at the baggage drop, and we finished that part quite quickly. Even those who hadn’t checked in were able to get that done there. The only issue was that not everyone had arrived yet. Naturally, we looked out for one another, so some of us kept an eye on the luggage belonging to those who were getting massages until they finally showed up.
Noi Bai International Airport was perhaps much like most other large international airports, yet there was a significant amount of passport checking. It happened first at check-in/baggage drop, then at immigration departure, then before security (a new one for me), and finally at the gate.
While one might get the impression of a “silo mentality“, there are likely people there who consider the overall experience. On its own website, the airport states: “Starting from 19 December 2025, in conjunction with the inauguration of the T2 Passenger Terminal Expansion Project, Noi Bai International Airport will progressively roll out the ‘Smart Airport’ model“
I’m not sure how “smart” it had become by the time we departed, but if I ever return, I’ll be sure to pay extra close attention…
For me, the flight to Vietnam was absolutely awful. I developed a headache before we landed in Istanbul, and during the flight to Hanoi, I was practically in a coma. That was textbook for me. But, oddly enough, the journey home always goes well. I didn’t have a headache at all during the flight to Istanbul. I watched movies, enjoyed myself, and got some sleep. I didn’t get to sit next to Anne, but I did have an aisle seat – which I prefer…
There wasn’t much to say about the flight to Istanbul. The scheduled flight time was more than 10 hours, but for me, the journey went quite smoothly. After landing, we gathered together before beginning our walk into the vast airport terminal.
Thursday, and day #13:
Among Europe’s largest airports, only Heathrow ranks ahead of Istanbul (and only just) in terms of annual passenger numbers.
The stopover in Istanbul lasted only a couple of hours. The flight to Oslo departed at 07:10 AM, local time.
Now that we were airborne, and I didn’t need any more sleep, I had a chance to reflect on the trip. There were so many impressions to process. But the most important question was: would I return and set foot on the summit of Fansipan?
Everything was set up for it; our guide had said he could arrange most things if I reached out. And now I know how much time I need for acclimatization. Yes, this was certainly a question I would be thinking about a lot in the time to come.
As for the group I had been a part of for 12 days, I was very pleased that the group dynamics had been so good. Since I lack experience with this type of trip – where you are in such close quarters with strangers for an extended period – this had actually been a minor concern of mine. But there was no need to worry. We quickly became a tight-knit group, and the vibe was good throughout the trip – at least, from what I could tell.
But what about the trip itself? I was left feeling completely swept off my feet, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on why. Sure, the nature was beautiful, the food was nice and the people were lovely – but that probably wasn’t the only reason I felt as though I had experienced something truly special.
One thought that kept returning to me during our trek was, “Here, life is unfolding right before my eyes“ But what did I really mean by that?
Life in rural Vietnam seemed very concrete, with little room for abstraction. People worked the land, tended their animals and did whatever was necessary to get through the day. There was a direct connection between what they did and what they needed to survive.
I began thinking about my own life, which in many ways could hardly be more different. I’ve spent most of my adult life working with complicated computer systems, in a world where much of what we do ultimately comes down to making money for someone else. When the working day and the daily hike is over, I might spend time blogging, scrolling through social media or watching television. And suddenly, I found myself asking a question I didn’t quite know what to do with: Is this my life?
What can I actually do? I can solve some pretty complicated technical problems, but can I bake a loaf of bread? If a serious crisis were to strike, where would that leave me?
It’s easy to romanticize rural life when you come from a comfortable home in Norway. I’m well aware that hard work, poverty and limited opportunities are hardly things to envy. And I probably wouldn’t trade my own life for theirs.
Still, there was something about meeting these people that left me feeling genuinely humbled. Not because their lives were necessarily more meaningful than mine, but because they possessed practical skills and knowledge that I had become increasingly disconnected from. They knew how to manage a way of life in which I would probably be quite helpless.
Perhaps, in the end, this feeling wasn’t so much about what I saw in rural Vietnam, but about what I suddenly came to recognize in my own life.
The philosophizing came to an abrupt end as we passed the Tatra Mountains. Anne and I have fond memories of this place – especially the traverse across Slovakia’s highest peak, Gerlachovský štít.
Eventually, we were approaching Oslo. Since we were continuing on to Sogndal, the journey wasn’t quite over yet. But at least we would soon be in Norway. Returning to work would be a brutal transition. I had managed to completely tune out from work quite quickly after we arrived in Vietnam. That’s something I manage to do far too rarely. The last time was probably when we went to Jan Mayen in 2019…
I found it somewhat incredible that the luggage arrived, both ways. You might think they would have managed to solve this by now, given that commercial aviation has been around for so long? Hardly…
It was also strange to say goodbye to the group. We had gotten to know each other well and shared many experiences, and suddenly, it was all over.
After a few hours, the journey continued toward Sogndal…
Now all that remains is to ponder whether I should go back or not…
Thanks for following our trip!