When we started the tour we were rounded up at the hotel lobby. There was a dozen people in our group; all European. It was only Sam and I that were hard enough to walk for the full three days. Everyone else would do the home stay and then go back to Sapa. When we walked outside there was a group of Black Mong tribes women waiting for us. When we began walking they immediately joined us. There was really only four questions they would pose:

• What your name?
• Where you come from?
• You have brother or sister?
• You have girlfriend?

At our first stop, as the group tends to get spread out amongst the other hoard of tour parties, we were propositioned by several young boys selling walking sticks. I knew that these were going to be handy based on comments made back in Da Nang. Those who didn't buy a walking stick struggled on the hill, many of them fell over. It was interesting that one woman was wearing heels on a trek. Crazy.

Before lunch we briefly visited a traditional Hmong home, where the guide gave us some background information on the Hmong people and their customs. Across from us the lady of the house was cooking the evening meal, stitching intricate patterns onto handmade clothing. As we left the house, we were surrounded by the hens foraging and tending to their dozens of peeping chicks, contributing to the constant busy atmosphere of this mountain village.

After a day of taking in the wonderful countryside, especially the stepped rice fields we came to our home stay. Everyone relaxed for the remainder of the afternoon and we enjoyed some Vietnamese food, though significantly bland for the western palate. Then out came the rice wine. Sam and I knew exactly what to do with this stuff. Everyone got pretty happy.

Day two was an uphill journey. Overnight it had rained, so it was a case of who was going to fall over first. I tried to be clever by taking a short-cut around a muddy bank and ended up nearly sliding down a bank. Fortunately the guide and two Black Mong girls were there to assist. We continued walking till we reached the road. A jeep came to pick up the ten tourists, leaving Sam and I to complete day three. We carried onto our home stay, that was about another five kilometres away.

Day three was a little bit of a let down. We had to retrace our steeps, and walk up a very steep hill. By the top I was ready to chunder, it was so hot. Fortunately we only had to wait a little while at the top and a jeep from the tour company came and picked us up. Back to Sapa - what a cool experience.
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Our Vietnamese Dong was running out so it was time to leave. I had researched how to get out from Sapa and get into Laos. There was a new border crossing at a place called Tay Tran, 15 kilometres south west of Dien Ben Phu. Our mission now was to get to Dien Ben Phu, and there was only two ways from Sapa. By jeep at $200US, or take a local sardine bus at $10US each. We chose the latter.

So at 8am the next day, we were dropped off at a side street to wait with a small group of Veitnamese.The small bus arrived, our gear stowed on the roof under a tarpaulin and we left Sapa. It would take an incredible 10 hours to reach Den Ben Phu, less than 400 kilometres away. If you have seen the Sapa images already, it may have alluded to the fact that the mountain passes are dirt roads. Also at this time of year it rains a considerable amount. There were times on this trip that I thought we were not going to make it at all.

During one mountain climb the bus got stuck. The driver would reverse and then attempt to make a hard run at the mud bog that caused the tyres to slip. Nope...didn't make it that time. He would reverse and try again. After four attempts, everyone were ordered off and the driver and another man tried to get the bus through the muddy patch. Our group walked further up the mountain and waited. Eventually, the bus struggled its way up to collect us.

That evening we crawled into Dien Ben Phu and we stayed overnight at a hotel just opposite the bus station. We would take the next bus to Laos. When we awoke at 5am, and went to the bus station the staff informed us that there was no bus today—only one every second day. So we thought well lets take a motorbike taxi instead. Two motorbike taxis arrived and cheerfully took us to the border. It was a beautiful ride, and reminded me of the Easy Rider Tour some two weeks back.

At the border the staff were just waking up. The Vietnamese border guards checked only our day packs, and stamped us out of the country. Now it was a case of walking down a mountain road (about 1 kilometre) and we were in Laos. The Laotian Customs officers processed our documents (and requested an arbitrary weekend fee of $1US) and now we were on our own. The next township was 30 kilometres away, Sam and I were on foot, and it was already about 30° Our only salvation was to hitch-hike, and fortunately one truck went past and he helped us out. He took the two of us to Muang Khua and we stayed there overnight. Read more about Laos.