Hà Giang City, North Vietnam!

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I returned to Vietnam for a solo adventure after walking the streets in my mind so many times since I visited with the family in 2019. This trip included the capital city Hà Nội; a homestay by Sông Lô (the Lô River) in Hà Giang, the country’s northernmost province bordering China; and a two-day motorbike ride on the famous Hà Giang loop. Because this is such a fascinating and exciting place, and because there is so much interesting patriotic and nationalist art and public history to consider in Hà Nội, I decided to share some photos and short videos with a few explanations here. You can follow this series from the beginning here. Enjoy!

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This week I was flattered to see my Vietnam trip series recommended by Australian writer Alia Parker, along with a thoughtful story about her travels in Cambodia nearly 20 years ago. Check out Alia’s column here.

After spending 3 days in Hà Nội, I left for Hà Giang, the country’s northernmost province bordering China. My plans included one day at a homestay by Sông Lô (the Lô River) about 20km outside of the small city of Hà Giang, followed by a two-day motorbike ride on the famous Hà Giang loop. It was awesome. Everyone was incredibly kind and welcoming, the food was delicious, and the landscape was huge and powerful and sometimes dangerous, but also incredibly soft and soothing. Here are some photos and videos from the first part of the 3-day adventure.

There is no night train service into this province from Hà Nội, so getting up there was a 300km, three-bus affair through the mountains in the rain. I like to hear about this kind of stuff, but if it sounds too boring, scroll down until you see pictures of delicious food and beautiful scenery.

The trip started on Friday with a scheduled pick-up at my hotel. I pretty much crawled into the remaining spot at the back of an old minibus. I piled my luggage on my lap when two more guys were somehow squeezed in a few minutes down the road. No one was quite sure what was going on, and after about 20 minutes we were ejected by the side of the road to await another bus. I assumed I would eventually see the luxury sleeper bus I had reserved for about $13 each way.

An international crowd of people less than half my age gathered in the street, and as some larger busses arrived, their drivers picked through the crowd with passenger lists in hand. Newly bonded traveling pairs were split into separate busses based on the tours they had booked on the other side or whether they paid extra for a nicer bus.

Seeing no one in my generation, I knew I was headed for something fun, but I also felt a little foolish standing there. Regardless, it was happening. As I listened to the conversation around me that consisted only of lists of places people had been, where they found to sleep for cheap, and how long they had been backpacking, I kept in mind that I had booked a private motorbike tour and wouldn’t be in one of the 10-person Eurotourist convoys I had seen in some YouTube videos.

Eventually I was called into a regular long-distance bus—no sleeper. I was a little disappointed, but there was no way to ask the question. I had been assured I could crash at the motorbike hostel on the other end when I arrived if needed, so it wasn’t a big deal. I wrapped the straps of my bag around my arm, draped my hoodie over my face, and closed my eyes.

About 30 minutes later, the bus stopped, and we were once again poured out, this time into a large parking area without a clear sense of what was next. Soon more busses of different sizes arrived, drivers jumping out calling names from printed passenger manifests. And soon, bobbing toward me out of the darkness: my luxury sleeper bus.

If you’ve never seen one of these —

Each little cabin had its own light and temperature controls along with USB ports and some very soft blankets. The interior was kept clean by having everyone remove their shoes into a plastic bag before entering the bus. It was pretty comfortable, though there were numerous fairly noisy stops along the way.

Arriving in the city of Hà Giang about 3:30am, I was dropped off at Mai’s Homestay, greeted warmly but silently, directed to the WC, and then led up an outdoor staircase to a locked second floor. Inside, I was shown to one of about ten curtained partitions with a pretty good mattress on the floor. There were no lights, only a fan on the wall. I texted the family that I had landed safely and slept hard for several hours in this space with no distractions.

When I woke up, I ventured downstairs and got a look at the place. It was the kind of “homestay” (a term used for many sorts of accommodations in this country, so you really have to see pictures) where people who’ve booked adventure tours with a number of affiliated companies can gather to get something to eat, shower, sleep, or even do some laundry before and after. I brushed my teeth at the communal sinks, got some good coffee, and met this sweet kitty. Here I am, more than a little haggard after the night before, but kitty doesn’t judge.

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My motorbike tour was not scheduled until the next day, so I was expecting to catch a taxi or something out to the other homestay (of a very different sort, below) I had booked to relax for a day in order to see the area and because I was a little concerned about how well I would hold up if I had to jump right on the bike for an 8-hour ride after an overnight transit with little sleep.

I was surprised when my bike driver Thanh showed up with plans to spend that day with me, too—another deeply appreciated experience with the thoughtful and thorough service ethic in Vietnam. I only paid about $225 for this tour, including two nights on the sleeper bus (there and back), a private motorcycle ride with a really professional driver, an overnight stay in a small town between the two day-long rides, and all the delicious food along the way. The quality of this experience was excellent.

Since Thanh didn’t have a client for the day, he took me on a ride around the town and then to a coffee and juice shop before getting the best bowl of noodles I had during my 10 days in Vietnam. The bottom right picture below shows Thanh taking a draw from one of the ubiquitous tobacco bongs in this part of the country, often set out in a plastic bucket for communal use.

We talked about Thanh’s wife and two-month old son living in Hà Nội with her mother while he picked up as many bike tours as he could to make money before moving his family down to his hometown on the central coast, Hoi An. His wife had been working in the design field before they married, but he stated that Vietnamese culture would not expect her to work once they started a family. I asked whether that was still a very common practice or if things were changing, and I also told him that, in most cases, only wealthy Americans can afford to live on one income for 20 years. He acknowledged that it was changing for many families but emphasized the importance of Vietnamese cultural traditions.

We also talked about American rock ‘n roll music for a while—Thanh told me how, after learning English well enough to understand the lyrics, he was surprised to realize that so much ‘60s and ‘70s American music was anti-war. We spoke—very briefly—about the limited narratives every country provides students about its own history, especially related to war and cultural divides.

After lounging at the coffee shop in front of the town’s common green space and a Ho Chi Minh statue, we wolfed down some noodles somewhere else in town before driving out past the end of the paved roads and through some slippery mud tracks to the Xanh Homestay. Periodically Thanh put his foot down and yanked the bike up out of the mud suction to keep us moving. I think this was harder than he made it look.

After ensuring I was checked in properly, Thanh assessed that there wasn’t enough for me to do there for a whole day and surprised me again by saying he’d be back at 4:30 to show me more local sights. Here’s the gorgeous place I stayed by the Lô River:

After I took a nap and discovered Thanh waiting for me in the common space, we rode about 10km, walked about ten minutes through a shallow rocky river, and then saw the most beautiful waterfall over a small ridge. This is locally known as “Waterfall 6” because it’s 6km past the end of the paved road.

Thanh took a dip in the waterfall pool, and I picked out some rocks to bring home for my collection. From there, we rode about 30 minutes nearly straight uphill to get a good look at the rice fields.

We also passed a local school way up in the hills. Thanh explained that all the kids in the area up until about age 10 attend these schools. The teacher lives at the school and is paid about 50% more than those in more populated and accessible parts of the country. Older kids generally go down to the cities for high school and return home every weekend or every two weeks.

As the sun started going down about 7pm, we headed back down to Ha Giang city to meet up with some of Thanh’s co-workers for dinner and then piled into a taxi to go back up the hill in some other direction to get a drink from a hilltop cafe with a great view.

Eventually I got back to the Xahn homestay, completely zonked. My next post will start on the two-day bike ride through the famous Hà Giang loop. This was one of the most incredible things I’ve ever been lucky enough to do.