Witte would be proud....

All the tourists go to Sapa, so we went to Ba Ca. Ben's train arrived 3 hours before mine, which I thought was hysterical and he thought was annoying. He almost left, apparently, because he had no idea what was going on (they were supposed to be 30 minutes apart. And they're trains, for chirst's sake, it's not like they can run into traffic. AND they were on the SAME tracks.)

On the first day in Ba Ca we counted 7 other whities in town, and I reveled in the opportunity to walk around solo, talking with those who would deal with my 2 year old language skills. So I passed the phrase book back and forth with a few random people, learning their names, ages, and all the other crap you don't really care about, but which is really a pain in the ass to get out of people with the barrier anyway, and just took in what the quiet town had to offer.

The next day we woke up and it was friday. Except that the dutch couple at breakfast informed us that it was not friday, it was saturday and we should go to the market nearby. So we rented a motorbike for $7 and probably did 5 times that much in damage to it between not knowing how to shift properly and just overall sucking at riding a motorcycle on muddy, rocky roads.

Nevertheless, we did get to see the market, and had the opportunity to buy a cow, a dog, or a horse from the flower Hmong therein.

Then yesterday was the market in Ba Ca and the whole western world showed up to take pictures of the spectacle. So while not dodging pleas to buy chunks of raw meat, chicken heads, as well as the standard textiles, we spent our time, well, napping mostly due to the massive quantity of local booze (33 cents for 1/2 liter, so you KNOW it's good) consumed the night before whilst trying to figure out the rules to a local card game. (As evidenced last night, we did not learn all them properly.)

Maybe because of the hangover, we thought it a good idea to rent motorbikes for three days and head out on a massive road trip north near the border with China today.
Just to make sure that the whole world knew that we had done as well with learning how to ride motorcycles as we had with the cards, I decided to crash my bike about 3 minutes into the ride - right where the pavement turned to dirt, thank god. The bad news is that I bent the footrest and got some minor abrasions. The good news is that in each of the abrasions there are long gouges, though not very deep, that look like some sort of animal attacked me. So at least I look cool.

Plus, it has given every single person we've talked to since something to point and laugh at.

The rest of the ride went flawlessly, and we saw some absolutely spectacular mountains with waterfalls tumbling over every rock available. In many spots, portions of the road had followed suit, falling down over the terraced rice paddies into the abyss below, and providing nice obstacles to avoid. Also, the further away from tourist land, the more interesting the local tribes become. Shame we can't speak with them.

Finally, when we arrived in Ha Gieng we stopped at the first hotel in sight. Here, the receptionist proceeded to barter with himself over the price while we stood silent, and then washed our bikes for us and immediately turned the hose on us to rinse us down. While picturing the scene, you should also include that he was laughing hysterically most of the time, while rambling off dozens of sentences that we clearly didn't understand, but which contained the name "Vietnam" about seven million times. These sentences were also muttered as he ran around hysterically carrying a televison and slippers to our room. I think he has been very, very bored lately as we may be the only travelers in town.

Then we walked to find dinner, and as always wondered if the stares we got walking in were in disgust, contempt, joy, or interest; but encouraged as last night we stopped in Ba Ca for a cup of coffee, and were invited to dinner with the family. Tonight it was again joy and interest, as the first thing that happened was that a local tobacco pipe was shoved in my face, and I was taught how to smoke it. Again, much more amusing when you include that the local tobacco pipe is a big bamboo bong, with tobacco instead of hippie leaves.

Now maybe back to the room to check if the cartoon we were watching is still on. When we left the scenes were alternating between a basketball game of some sort, and genies in their underground lair. If anyone can make a connection, hit us with it, as we are fresh out of ideas.