Determined not to be put off by the weather, which was still a dank, chilly whiteout this morning, we waited for as long as possible for it to clear before jumping on the bikes and heading for the O Quy Ho Pass, a mountain road famous for its twisties and viewpoints.
Within a few kilometers of leaving the Sapa valley, things started to brighten up, and the mist lifted. Being a public holiday also meant that every tourist, taxi, bus, and truck was also sharing the same road, and traffic conditions were hairy as they all jostled for position, trying to overtake around hairpin bends, and doing generally stupid things common to Asian driving standards.
We decided to skip Thac Bac, or Silver Waterfall, since there was nowhere to park within half a kilometer of it, and headed for the more remote Love Waterfall, which involved a 3km return trek.
This turned out to be a good move since there were fewer people and the mountain path was peaceful, winding through forests and the river valley until the huge cascade appeared. We took our time getting photos and enjoyed the trek back to the car park, by which time the weather was closing in again, so we headed back down the pass towards Sapa, stopping on the way to grab shots of the mist moving across the valleys.
Dinner that evening was at a local place that did barbecue and hotpot sets, a fitting meal in the thick fog and cold temperatures.
Muong Hoa Valley
The weather looked a little clearer this morning, but it didn’t last long, and by the time we rode into town, the heavy mist had descended again. We battled through the holiday gridlock that Sapa town had become again, grabbed a baguette, and negotiated a few makeshift one-way streets the wrong way before finally escaping the traffic and heading southeast down the Muong Hoa Valley.
This road was equally spectacular, but again, visibility was very patchy until we came off it and descended into the valley, where the rice terraces came into view. We rode through the tiny village of Ta Van, where locals worked the paddies, herded buffalo, sold produce, and sent their kids out to sell trinkets to tourists and hikers.
It was a paradox of ancient village life and subsistence farming, which has now become a major tourist attraction in the modern world. We rode on, aiming for another remote waterfall, but the roads became a little hairy in the wet conditions, so we decided to loop back to the main road, stopping for some grilled duck on the way back.
After a short duck stop, we decided to get out of the cloud that seemed to permanently shroud the Irista Hill apartment block and ride back up the O Quy Ho Pass for some clearer views. This turned out to be a bad idea, as soon as we reached the top of the pass, where the glass elevator and sky bridge were, the skies opened, and torrential rain poured down. Needless to say, the ride back was very cold and very wet, with parts of the road turning into raging torrents and needing careful negotiation.
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