Sa Pa is a town on top of the mountain. The minibus climbed and climbed. A trail of little white minibuses in front of and behind crawling up and around mountains. At first we were looking at the dark clouds of fog draping the tops of the mountains, and then we were in them.
The first thing we notice about Sa Pa is that it's cold. And foggy. And rainy. This is the first day of rain I've had since my arrival in SE Asia. After a few hours of walking around in the market, my feet and fingers are actually cold. As we walk through the markets, we notice that the postcard sellers and motorbike drivers have been replaced by hill tribes people selling their goods. Small women cloaked in dark, cotton clothes, some with small babies strapped to their backs, others hauling bamboo baskets of trinkets. All of them wear yellow plastic sandals, their feet bare and the texture of rough leather. They are selling the same type of silver hoop earrings that are dangling in ten fold from each of their ears and the silver bells around their necks, and the scarves and hats and pants covering their bodies.
I buy a pair of thermal bottoms from a regular shop, a belt to hold up my jeans (either the jeans are expanding or I'm shrinking) and a funny wooden trinket for a friend at home. By noon we are spent and ready for a drink, a hot meal and a nap to recover from the train ride. We need to rest up for our two to three day trek that begins in the morning. Our soft berth for the return journey to Hanoi has already been booked. That lesson has been learned.
