We are wrapping up three days on a Farmstay in Phong Nha which is located in central Vietnam, about 50k from Laos and a few hours drive to Da Nang and the ocean.

Watching the sunset over an ocean of paddie fields from our hammocks, roughing it with a Mojito, listening to the water buffalo groan on their walk home, I think back on the two experiences we had here and how they were so different from each other in the emotions yet provoked but so interconnected through the people who showed their mountain homes to us.

Phong Nha is a 80k long river cave that starts on a smaller branch of the main river which runs through this valley. Three British explored the entire length of the cave in the 90s but no one has made it trough since then. During the flood season the water can rise to 90 feet high in the cave which shockingly does not even come close to touching the ceiling. Some of the larger chambers can fit a 40 sorry building, or the Statue of Liberty inside without touching the roof.

We took a boat into the mouth of the cave, which is very large itself, an then climbed into a beach and entered several larger chambers where massive stalagmites and stalactites grew and dropped from the floor and ceiling. Some 30-40 feet high. All the mountains here are limestone remnants of the ocean that once covered Vietnam and their signature shape can be seen from Southern China to Southern Vietnam. Water slowly works through the cracks and creates some of the largest caves in the world here.

Recently a cave called Hang Son E was discovered here and was found to be the largest cave in the world in volume with whole Forrest living inside beneath sink holes of collapsed stone. People repel down into the 300 feet deep pits and spend days inside the dark exploring. Maybe next year!

Our second day took us on a tour of the Phong Nha national park which spans the border with Laos. Our guide had grown up here and his family has lived here for generations. It was on this tour that the trip became much more contemplative and often sad. The road we drove on was part of the Ho Chi Minh Trail during the war and for this reason was very heavily bombed during the final phase of the war under Nixon. Knowing that we were pulling our forces out shortly, we began a massive air campaign called Operation Linebacker, the same campaign I referenced in the Hanoi blog, which involved the greatest use of air bombardment in history. 600 tons of bombs were dropped from B52s per person in this area. Knowing that the HCM trail could not be located concretely, the planes were ordered to fly in lower that normal and bomb not only the fields but also the mountain in the hope of causing landslides which might block the road south or east into Laos.  Because our bombs were developed for use in industrial Europe in WW2 they very often landed without exploding in the soft mud of the paddies and jungle. It’s estimated that 30% of all the bombs did not explode in this area of impact. Our guide told us of many his childhood friends who were killed either by stepping on bombs while watching buffalo in the fields or by picking up the small cluster bombs and playing with them causing them to explode. There have been some 10,000 post war deaths in the areas along the DMZ since the war to date. We saw a number of bomb shells stacked in front of homes and many cluster bombs piled up which have been pulled from the fields. The beautiful lakes we can look out at here are actually not naturally formed but are  bomb craters which remain to be filled.

Phong Nha cave itself was a hospital during the war where they also hid a large pontoon bridge during the day. At night they would float it out and a convoy of trucks from Haiphong Harbor, carrying Soviet and Chinese weapons and diesel, would drive south towards the DMZ or into Laos. Once we found out about the cave we tried many times to get a direct hit into the cave with small jets with one successful hit. The cave is so deep and vast that it caused no damage but last year that American pilot actually came here and stayed at the farm where he talked with the farms owner, a woman who maned the AA guns shooting at him, On that same day. Must have been an interesting conversation to listen too. By the end of Operation Linebacker, 17 B52s had been shot down, little had been accomplished to disrupt the HCM trail.

War cemeteries are everywhere here and the incense burns non stop. We are invited in to pray and it is a surreal experience. While only 25% of our soldiers who faced combat here were drafted, despite the huge myth of disproportion that Hollywood had made us think, 100% of the people who lived here fought in the war and everyone has a story. They seem forever able to forgive and welcome us back to Vietnam. Maybe that comes from having driven out so many Monghols, Chinese, Japanese and French before us. Maybe it fosters a mentality of moving forward, of firmness in belief that only the Vietnamese with govern this land. I hope that perhaps the Afghanis will one day feel this way as their story is not so different than Vietnam’s. An endless stream of empires passing in and inevitably out of their lives.

Our stay here at the farm has been truly unique. Far off the beaten path, surrounds by water and rice, the sound of motorcycle and car horns replaces by the tranquil sounds of buffalo and cow in their perennial battle with the plow they are attached to. Children on bicycle ride by on muddy roads, immaculately dressed, and endless streams of attempts at, “hello, where are your from and Hi Five!” In the distance the long low profile of the fishing boats slide quietly upriver towards the moth of Phong Nha and the sun sets toward our destination.

The Perfume River and Hue lie waiting.

So, the train ride up to the mountains was basically the equivalent of the Thunder Mountain Roller Coaster at Disney Land. I am certain that I actually lifted off my bunk on a couple of those drops. It became clear why they had installed railing along the side of each bunk to keep people from flying out! We didn’t see much of anything during the night but the few glimpses of lights we saw were of houses set no more than 5-10 feet off the tracks. We were literally barreling through people’s yards at what seemed like a terrifying speed. Probably for best they only run the trains at night for that reason. When we left the station in Hanoi it looked as if they just line several trains up and do kind of a Cannonball Express to Laos.

Sapa is at about 4,500 feet elevation and is much more wet and cold than Hanoi. It’s been misty and in the 50’s with light rain starting today. Basically Vanessa and I feel we are back in San Francisco summer conditions. “Goodbye flip flops, we had a nice couple of days together”. The mountains around Sapa are the highest in Vietnam with Mt. Fanistan rising to around 14000 feet. A three day epic adventure to reach the summit we hear…with a wide variety of poisonous snakes along the way. Come to think of it, I have never seen a Cobra up close, well, maybe next time.

The valley drops a thousand feet or more below us to a series of rivers an waterfalls with villages nestled along the slops above. We hiked 18k along narrow paths and wider roads to the villages of Cat Cat and Lao Chai. The Black Hmong people live here along with many other ethnic minorities which can be differentiated by clothing colors and styles. The Black Hmong are named after the dark black/purple clothing they are wrapped it. They grow indigo here and use that to create the dark purple color for there clothing which they wrap head to foot with many layers of vibrant colored needle point stitching worked into their accessories. The “Baby Bjorns” are the most beautiful patterns and colors and the have the baby cocooned into a hand made one-zy which straps them onto the women’s backs for the entire day.

There are no men here, or boys older than 10, which we are told is because the men live in the mountains hunting and collecting medicinal herbs all year. Many of the herbs i recognize in the market but many I do not. I get looked at strangely when I mention Chinese medicinal uses. Its apparent that herbal medicine varies greatly country to country and i am told again, “the Chinese are not popular here.” Because the Rice is planted in May and harvested in August, only one cycle a year here due to the cold, the women have nothing to do this time of year and are forced by the men to hike up to Sapa every day to try and sell small crafts to the tourist. Despite the absence of men we are told life for women is very hard, marriage is done through a type of kidnapping of a young girl for three days. Then her father comes and asks if she wants to marry the boy. She can say no but would be an outcast with little chance of marriage in the future if she did so. After hearing this I kept a sharp eye of Vanessa since we were hear for exactly three days making her perfect bait for a Hmong kidnapping! In truth, after one suspiciously long trip to the bathroom after lunch our guide suggested the possibility to me that she had been taken, I assured him that she had way more sass in her than Hmong men were prepared to take on!

There are no men here, or boys older than 10, which we are told is because the men live in the mountains hunting and collecting medicinal herbs all year. Many of the herbs i recognize in the market but many I do not. I get looked at strangely when I mention Chinese medicinal uses. Its apparent that herbal medicine varies greatly country to country and i am told again, “the Chinese are not popular here.” Because the Rice is planted in May and harvested in August, only one cycle a year here due to the cold, the women have nothing to do this time of year and are forced by the men to hike up to Sapa every day to try and sell small crafts to the tourist. Despite the absence of men we are told life for women is very hard, marriage is done through a type of kidnapping of a young girl for three days. Then her father comes and asks if she wants to marry the boy. She can say no but would be an outcast with little chance of marriage in the future if she did so. After hearing this I kept a sharp eye of Vanessa since we were hear for exactly three days making her perfect bait for a

Hmong kidnapping! In truth, after one suspiciously long trip to the bathroom after lunch our guide suggested the possibility to me that she had been taken, I assured him that she had way more sass in her than Hmong men were prepared to take on!

With marriage as early as 14 and 4-5 kids on the way life revolves around rice here. Each Hmong person will eat up to 2-2.5 kilos of rice per day. This means that they eat as much or more than they can grow despite the land being completely covered in a network of terraces. Hemp for making the clothes and Indigo for dying seem to be the only other cultivated crops. Bamboo and a very bountiful and wide variety of vegetables grow around the homes. Pumpkins dry of the roofs while women work turning the bamboo, after being hardened under the mud for 3 months, into everything from irrigation piping, to fencing, to roofing and ladders. Each home has a stand of Banana which they use for fruit, Banana blossom dishes, and for feeding the animals. Young children run through the streets rolling old motorcycle tires with bamboo sticks or sit and extract the young bamboo shoots for eating…which they seem to eat one of for every three that go in the basket. Big potbellied pigs and piglets wander everywhere, mixing it up with the dogs every house owns, and fighting for bugs with a wide variety of ducks and chickens. All of which, dogs too, go into the cooking pot when they grow old enough. The king of the land here is the water buffalo which roam through the paddies eating the weeds and fertilizing the fields. When they  can no longer plow the paddies they too go into the food cycle but at 15 dollars a kilo they are sold to the more wealthy Viet majority who can afford them. Invaluable as a natural tractor for the farmers, they are members of the family, who until recent health education programs, have lived in the homes with the farmers. What few old

men we saw in the village were gathered around watching a Cock fight which we joined for a few minutes. I was invited to lay some money down but when I was told that neither of the birds were named “Little Jerry Seinfeld” I was lost as to who I should bet on.

Schooling is frowned upon here despite the work of many NGOs and expatriates. Parents see it as pointless since all the children return to the village life/culture afterwards. We were told that only 2 children have ever made it out of the village to university so far, the pressure to stay is so strong.

The town of Sapa is a old French resort town, they came in 1908 and were kindly asked to leave in 1978, with Alps style hotels looking over the valley. The tourist here seem overwhelmingly French with a smattering of Aussies, Germans, and Brits. There is Northface clothing sold everywhere and is very good knock off quality. Owning the real thing myself at home, I cannot tell the difference, all goretex and all very quality. We got a $250 parka for $38 dollars here and it seems to be a perfect copy. For my birthday Vanessa gets a present??  They also sell a great deal of the bright clothing and needle work here for very cheap. It’s seems to be way too much inventory for the women to make and we wonder if there is a factory nearby cranking it out under the allusion of being local. We got some things in the small village with the hopes the money would stay there.

The village has changed dramatically in five years and no doubt will continue as more tourist visit in the next five. The highway to Kunming, China, will be complete in two years and that brings a whole lot of Chinese money with it, for better or more likely worse. I think the European/Australian investment here is very good as they are committed to Eco-tourism and local food culture as the way forward.

Tonight we ride the roller coaster back to Hanoi and fly straight on to Dong Hoi in Central Vietnam. For the next 3 days we explore the largest cave system in Asia while staying at the Phong Na farm exploring with bike, boat and Headlamps. Back into the 80’s, hello flip flops.

With marriage as early as 14 and 4-5 kids on the way life revolves around rice here. Each Hmong person will eat up to 2-2.5 kilos of rice per day. This means that they eat as much or more than they can grow despite the land being completely covered in a network of terraces. Hemp for making the clothes and Indigo for dying seem to be the only other cultivated crops. Bamboo and a very bountiful and wide variety of vegetables grow around the homes. Pumpkins dry of the roofs while women work turning the bamboo, after being hardened under the mud for 3 months, into everything from irrigation piping, to fencing, to roofing and ladders. Each home has a stand of Banana which they use for fruit, Banana blossom dishes, and for feeding the animals. Young children run through the streets rolling old motorcycle tires with bamboo sticks or sit and extract the young bamboo shoots for eating…which they seem to eat one of for every three that go in the basket. Big potbellied pigs and piglets wander everywhere, mixing it up with the dogs every house owns, and fighting for bugs with a wide variety of ducks and chickens. All of which, dogs too, go into the cooking pot when they grow old enough. The king of the land here is the water buffalo which roam through the paddies eating the weeds and fertilizing the fields. When they  can no longer plow the paddies they too go into the food cycle but at 15 dollars a kilo they are sold to the more wealthy Viet majority who can afford them. Invaluable as a natural tractor for the farmers, they are members of the family, who until recent health education programs, have lived in the homes with the farmers. What few old men we saw in the village were gathered around watching a Cock fight which we joined for a few minutes. I was invited to lay some money down but when I was told that neither of the birds were named “Little Jerry Seinfeld” I was lost as to who I should bet on.

Schooling is frowned upon here despite the work of many NGOs and expatriates. Parents see it as pointless since all the children return to the village life/culture afterwards. We were told that only 2 children have ever made it out of the village to university so far, the pressure to stay is so strong.

The town of Sapa is a old French resort town, they came in 1908 and were kindly asked to leave in 1978, with Alps style hotels looking over the valley. The tourist here seem overwhelmingly French with a smattering of Aussies, Germans, and Brits. There is Northface clothing sold everywhere and is very good knock off quality. Owning the real thing myself at home, I cannot tell the difference, all goretex and all very quality. We got a $250 parka for $38 dollars here and it seems to be a perfect copy. For my birthday Vanessa gets a present??  They also sell a great deal of the bright clothing and needle work here for very cheap. It’s seems to be way too much inventory for the women to make and we wonder if there is a factory nearby cranking it out under the allusion of being local. We got some things in the small village with the hopes the money would stay there.

The village has changed dramatically in five years and no doubt will continue as more tourist visit in the next five. The highway to Kunming, China, will be complete in two years and that brings a whole lot of Chinese money with it, for better or more likely worse. I think the European/Australian investment here is very good as they are committed to Eco-tourism and local food culture as the way forward.

Tonight we ride the roller coaster back to Hanoi and fly straight on to Dong Hoi in Central Vietnam. For the next 3 days we explore the largest cave system in Asia while staying at the Phong Na farm exploring with bike, boat and Headlamps. Back into the 80’s, hello flip flops.

Back in Hanoi from Ha Long Bay. The drive out there was a 4 hour kidney busting ride in a van with the obligatory stop halfway at the jade/silk/jewelry factory. Identical to the stuff we saw on China so no big purchases. We were shockingly re-introduced to full scale white tourism with hundreds of vans dumping bewildered Euros, Aussies, and Americans into the waiting hands of an army of Vietnamese handlers working for the factory. Vanessa and I quickly fought through to the back door and camped out back with the other underfunded backpackers. We didn’t see as many big buys go down like we saw in China so it must not have been just us who weren’t impressed. Maybe the silk just wasn’t as appealing to the tourist or maybe they had it right in china and people want to buy the story as much as the item. Having a tour of the jade or silk factory makes buying in the shop at the end a lot more appealing than just dumping people into the shop floor in mass.

When we got to the bay a few hours later we were thoroughly shaken by the constant games of chicken all the drivers were playing on the road. An endless stream of busses and trucks trying to pass each other on a two lane road with a few Vespas buzzing around each larger vehicle.

The boat we were water taxied to, the Bhaya, was really nice. A world apart from the Yangtze river boats in China. Very clean boat, small private white table cloth tables open to self choosing. Inside or outside seating and a host of waiters with a full bar. The landscape and water was so beautiful it made me wonder if this is what the Three Gorges on the Yangtze looked like before they f’d it up with that dam. The rooms were small but looked very clean and had none of the mildew smell of the last boats. Dark hardwood furnishings (and even a door on the bathroom! This is a first for us here!) and nice big windows with amazing views of clean water and sky with the limestone mountains rising out of the water everywhere. Only about 20-25 guests per boat so there was plenty of room at the bar and dining area.

The boat took us after lunch for a tour of the islands and a rowboat tour of a fishing village at dusk which was a really beautiful hidden cove in the islands. The dinner was an over the top try at western gourmet that flopped, sea bass or steak, but the service was great with lots of fresh fruit cocktails to try. Vanessa is now addicted to passion fruit-martinis:)

We were up at 5am for sunrise which was amazing! Skipped the Thai chi to have coffee alone on the back deck. Gross honeymooners. The boat took us to a giant cave you hike into with very high ceilings and lit with many different colors. A definite tourist trap but very impressive to see. Of course, there was the Asian tradition of trying to convince the tourist that “that rock looks like a turtle, that rock looks like a women, that rock looks like a dragon”. Nearly everything looks like a dragon in Vietnam…maybe after breathing enough diesel fumes….

The weather was sunny and hot for the way home and we wishes we had booked the two night cruise. Another vicious ride back with a stop at…yep…the very same jade/silk/crap shop. This time for 40 minutes! Even though we had been there yesterday! Oh well, good excuse to get some fried noodles and kill time.

We are now back in Hanoi, fresh from a hike way off the grid to sample the overwhelming sounds and smells and foods.  I don’t think I will ever forget the sheer noise of this place or the friendly “look at those silly lost white people” looks of all the locals. I am very taken with this city so far.

Night train leaves for Sapa at 10pm. They say, “you will feel every inch of the track’s history”. All aboard!

Woke up at 4am thanks to the lingering jetlag. Decided to head out to the Hoan Kiem Lake to see what the geriatrics were up to. Answer = getting busy. Cycling, dancing, soccer, badminton, weightlifting, everything. We walked around the lake and took it all in. Old lady’s shaking the hips in a semi-suggestive manor, younger ladies hooking their knees under benches and doing sit-ups while in a squat! I can’t even do that! Lots of gringos out running too, made me itch for a jog, only 1 kilometer around the lake, wonder if they have a marathon. Might be a deal breaker with Vanessa considering this is the honeymoon.

Took a cab to the Ethnology Museum in the suburbs. Very nice design and presentation of the 80 or so ethnic groups here. 80% are Viet which is obviously high but not quite the 98% Han dominates China. It was a good intro before we head into the highlands in Sapa. Out back they had reconstructed whole villages for each ethnic group you could visit. You had to respect the cultural norms of each. Taking your shoes off at some houses…dealing with angry goats at the entrance of others. Side note, Vanessa does not like angry goats staring her down.

Walked the 6 Kilometers home and saw huge statues of of Lenin and Uncle Ho’s tomb. Gigantic like Mao’s was in China. Lots of soldiers marching around but with many trees around which made it more pleasant than the paved over Tian’amen square. Didn’t feel the need to see Ho Chi Mihn’s embalmed body so kept walking back to the market.

We wanted to try and find the place we had pork Pho the day before but it was so overwhelming without our guide. Que the Anthony Bourdain scene, dark ally’s, chickens and dogs running at our feet, minced pork ground into the broken concrete under our feet, strange fluids (water I hope) running across the ground, and grandmother watching me as she swings the butcher knives efficiently into the pigs body, smaller and smaller pieces. The chicken ran over my foot and my stimulus reached max, “Vanessa abort the mission!”

We dove down a side street until we saw a bakery with foods we understood. Motorbikes bearing down from every direction, Vanessa bought me a piece of cake which I shoved in my mouth, restoring my blood sugar, as the fresh MSG flooded my system. With my bravado back I challenged Vanessa to try the crowded buffet style street food next to us.

Rice with scallions, pork and wood ear mushroom egg rolls, the best part, and we stayed away from meat given the recent carnage we encountered at the market. (Yes Mo, we have come back to the vegan dark side after blood on the streets).

Our energy restored we pushed deeper into the market and found our Pho palace. Behind the Halloween decorations and Santa cards, yes, the Halloween decorations and Santa cards. Sweet sweet smoked pork pho. In a heart beat the vegan lifestyle went back into the shadows.

Went to the Softihotel for the 20th floor roof bar and “Rusted Nails” cocktails. Vanessa had some sort of passion fruit vodka nonsense. Tasty though. The view of the Tay Ho/west lake and the Red River was epic. Felt very swanky up there.

Back home to the old city for Bahn Mi sandwiches…50 cents each…had to have several on principle of the price. Enjoying a Tiger beer under a giant hand drawn portrait of Snoop Dog. Yes, Snoop Dog is in the house.

Ha long bay tomorrow…off the radar for a bit as we head into the highlands after that. But, way ahead of the USA. WiFi is free everywhere here.

Hit the street food hard today. Perfect weather, low 70s and a breeze, lots if lakes here throughout the city and the Red River.

Started with a few black coffees and some nice dark bread with a jam that was almost more of a chunky chutny of mango and cinnamon. They seem really proud of their coffee here, it’s ok, but not the Peets hard stuff I needed to get going after the jetlag. But, combined with the 7 hours of Ambien sleep it got us out the door. Hanoi is very beautiful so far. None if the pollution of china, a fraction of the number of smokers, and virtually zero people trying to sell you crap on the street. You can walk up and look at shops and buy or not buy with no hassle. The architecture is much more simple, nothing much over 3-4 stories, all in a sort of pleasant state of southeast Asian decay. We are staying near a small lake in the old quarter with lots of people jogging and doing exercising. Another sign the pollution is not bad.

Our food guide named Tu was incredible. Great English and very open about all things Vietnam. A former chef at a top restaurant in town now making a very good living doing food tours for gringos. Crossing the street here is total f’ing chaos! 4-6 lanes of interwoven traffic and that’s not even the intersections. They have great side walks but they are unless since there are thousands of motorcycles parked on them. So walking in the street was constant. Tu said the general rule was to walk slowly and calmly, ignore the three ton truck coming from the left and the Vespa with a family of four coming from the right, make no eye contact and whatever you do don’t alter speed at all…because you might make THEM nervous!

Our first meal was pork belly cooked over wood charcoal on a small ground stove and a bowl of pork pho that was incredible! Tu pleaded with us not to finish everything since we had 6 stops but I couldn’t hold back. Nobody stares at us like in china either, maybe one of the benefits of all the backpackers, just some more strange white people trying comically to squat on tiny plastic stools.

Second stop was sweet young rice cakes filled with mung bean and tea. Very nice and sweet after the MSG rush we just had.

Third was sweet potato and fried shrimp cakes dipped in a vinaigrette/sugar/fish sauce with chillies and papaya. New for me to eat the whole shrimp with the shell but tasty though pointy in parts.

Things got real at the next place. Black small chicken/possible a sparrow or pigeon, cooked inside of a beer can with Chinese herbs. Very smokey, very salty, and very small bony. We both tried it and the vendor was watching us closely. Things were going well until I pulled the head of the bird off and Vanessa shut down. Haha. Next stop we both needed to pound a cold beer. The worst part was that they had small parquets in a cage in the food stale that were about the size of what we were eating…cheep cheep cheep as we ate the “chicken”

After the beers we had another bowl of pork pho with smoked pork at a ally stall that was run by a third generation pho family. Incredibly good.

MSG brain was setting in and we needed more coffee. We had iced coffee with whipped egg/sugar/condensed milk. Basically iced coffee with custard on top. With a bowl of cold tapioca and fried bananas. Vanessa had already forgotten about eating lil woodstalk.

Then crab and sweet rice fried in packets and chicken with sticky rice served with green cold honey tea. Vanessa had slowed down by now but I was plowing ahead.

One last iced coffee ended our three hour tour. I felt victorious. We walked home alone, surviving several more life threatening street crossings which required another cold Tiger beer.

Checked at the Hoa Lou prison “Hanoi Hilton”. Super downer/funny. Lots of classic commie propaganda. Many pictures of McCain having a nice stay, plus his flight suit/parachute. Looks like the boys had a good time playing cards and getting on shape while they were here. Cough/bullshit…though the pictures of Nixons carpet bombing of the city during operation linebacker are pretty extensive here. They had creepy shindlers list music playing through speakers in the whole place. I left depressed with a bad case of swamp ass to boot.

Nap time and the hope that my back pack will arrive today from Korea as the Korean air t shirt I am wearing, a gift that they felt makes up for leaving my bag behind, has food all over it.