travel

September 28

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We are now on the coast about three hours from Hanoi in Minh Chau on the China Sea. This is the extension part of the trip, two people have left us. It is very hot and humid. This heat brings memories of summer days in Gettysburg with the humidity and heat shimmering off the pavement and grass. I hate this kind of heat. It takes everything you have to function in it. And getting out of the air conditioned van into the sweltering heat is not for the faint of heart.

After about 3 hours we arrived in a small village whose speciality is making incense. They are known for the black incense which they apply by hand. The black incense is used for greeting in the New Year and other ceremonies. The red incense which smells more like cinnamon is done by machine and is used more widely. It seems villages around Vietnam have their own specialities. Some make cinnamon bark from the trees, others work turning trees into plywood, today’s village made incense which is exported all over the world. Drying in the sun are rows and rows of these incense sticks, while others form a beautiful round shapes. The black incense has a red center.

After walking around the village we piled into the van and took off for a fish market. This was along the coast with brightly painted fishing boats tied up at wharfs that were made from old boats. I brought my small sproket printer and had fun giving out photos. We spent quite a while photographing people, and looking at an assortment of fish. We returned later in the day to photograph the fishing boats that had come in, but there were few people around.

We were there for about 40 minutes and our guide caught up with us to inform us the police had insisted we stop photographing as we were near the South China sea and the border. Photographing was not allowed. We only got a warning, no jail for us.

Tomorrow we are up for the dawn patrol. a silk weed farm, and more photographing. This will be our last day. It has been an amazing trip. We have been where no tourists have gone and had many unique experiences. We have had the opportunity to engage with the local people, get our picture taken with many of them, and to enjoy a truly authentic experience. Vietnam is an amazing beautifu country. I feel better having been here and received an education on how Vietnam has pulled itself up after the war and to feel the warm friendly people acceptance of us has been an eye opener for me. I still think about what we did to these people and this country, how we poisoned them with Agent Orange and killed their families. I do not think I would be so welcoming.

September 25 & 26

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We have been up since 4:30 AM on the dawn patrol. However, dawn does not come until 5:15. We are in a completely different environment than the northern part of Vietnam. This area is populated by the Thai people, who are not from Thailand. However, the Thai influence is very strong. The houses have thatched roofs, and are built up on stilts with the living area above. Talk about an open floor plan. There is not a wall anywhere on the second floor and few support beams as the roof carries most of it. For privacy, which there is none, the parent’s bed has a curtain around it. No furniture except cushions and low tables.

Yesterday we walked to a “swimmng hole” which was fed by a natural mountain spring. I expected the water to be cold, it wasn’t as cold as the water in Vermont. It was refreshing after walking two miles in the heat and humidity to get there. The “ladies” demonstrated our Olympic synchronized team swimming abilities for the men in the group. They would not join us. No fun at all.

Back to the dawn patrol. Finally the morning light began to creep along the rice fields illuminating the fog hanging throughout the mountains. A few motor bikes came by, the dogs alerted the family to my presence, and the roosters made sure everyone was awake. Although there was no sunlight peaking through the mountains, there was a brush of pink to the clouds. Slowly people began to make their way to the rice fields, waving to me as I went by with my camera. I was completely alone on my walk having the expanse of fields and mountains to myself.

I felt it was a privilege to be in this moment, across the world, in a place where I thought I would never be. A place where the mention of the name, Vietnam, created anxiety in me. And now years later, it is as if this beautiful world had not been destroyed by war. As if we did not poison the people who lived here. I wonder what we were doing here in the first place, fighting a war to fight communism. Today, after all the killing, the sorrow, the grief, Vietnam is communist, it is a leading economic community in Asia. The world has not been destroyed. But once again, we have invaded another country, Iran, for what is perceived as a threat to humanity. I wonder who is the perceived threat?

September 21

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Back on the motorbikes for a climb to the bamboo forest. This was more terrifying than the ride yesterday. It started out what has become the norm, 3-5 foot paths, steep hills, switchbacks curving in on each other, dogs, chickens, cattle, and the motor bike with grass sticking out from the back of the bike, threatening to knock you over as you pass. This time, there was a toll halfway up, which slowed down the progress. As if to make up for it, my driver zooms full sped plunging down a steep bank only to start up an incline that was half washed out. My last look, before I closed my eyes, was a tire width path with stones popping up everywhere, and a drop to nowhere you would want to look. In your mind you imagine being flung somewhere along the hillside, crashing downward. It makes no difference if your helmet fits or not, as it would do little to protect you. As you are hanging on, you are bouncing from side to side, the motorbike is rocking this way and that, coming close to the edge one minute and seemingly bouncing off the bank on the other side.

At this moment, you are asking yourself why it is so important to see a bamboo forest when your life is hanging by a thread. You imagine the phone call to your kids informing them their mom died while sailing off a motorbike into an abyss. Oh and if that is not enough, you finally get to the top of the steep hill where the path turns into a 2 foot path when down comes a loaded motorbike full of hay. The path maybe widened to 3 feet for the rest of the journey as you continue to climb ending at the top of the mountain. Your fellow travelers are either behind you, or are waiting with expressions of horror as you arrive. A group hug seemed to be necessary to calm our beating hearts.

The rest of the morning was spent walking through the bamboo forest and practicing portrait photography with a model dressed in her traditional Hmong clothes. We had an opportunity to really spend time with lighting filtering through the forest, and different setting. Lunch was served at a Hmong family home who specialized in batik. Then back on the motor bikes, waiting in anticipation for the single track, rock strewn path you had traversed earlier. By this time we were seasoned travelers prepared for the terror and the faith that we would come back to the road alive.

Off to another mountain, shaped like a dinosaur’s spines, but the light was too harsh. We stopped for a coffee. I mentioned to the guide that it would be nice if we could find an intimate spot to photograph rice workers without tourists in the shots. This is difficult because it is hard to stop on the narrow roads. However, we climbed to the second floor of a coffee shop only to discover rice workers right below us. I decided to go around the back of the building and there I found a path to walk down to the rice fields. An adorable puppy followed us as we descended the steep narrow path. Once down to the bottom we were able to photograph the workers at the same level.

Back in the van after an hour heading to the mountain range, with motor bikes, only to pull in as a rain storm began. Change of plans to head back to the lodge, with a walk through the forest on the way back if it stopped raining. Which it did. As we headed out on the path, views of rice fields, sunset reflections in water, and evening shadows advancing on the mountain with moon rise over the trees. Of course, we all stopped to get pictures when after 10 minutes our guide informed us that we had an hour walk ahead of us. None of us realized the “walk” was really a hike, nor did we realize our vans had left and were meeting us at the other end of the trail. Sometimes it is helpful to know the plan, but flexibility is the key word when you are on a trip like this.

We were rewarded with dinner of crispy fish, and the promise we could sleep in late (7:00pm), have a leisure morning before we left. The guides and our leader seemed very impressed that 8 older people were able to do what we accomplished, which is why I believe they decided to give us a “rest.” Or maybe they needed it more than we did.

September 21

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It is actually 5 AM on the 22nd. The roosters are sounding the alarm and I can’t sleep due to the rock solid bed. Old bones need soft landings. I am watching dawn arrive from my cabin in the mountains. fog surrounds us, as darkness did last night. I have yet to experience this eco lodge’s as we arrived too late. Lighted pathways led us to our individual cabin.

Our six hour ride yesterday was interspersed with stops to photograph people drying and grinding tea leaves for preparation to send to be packaged. Frequent stops created views of rice fields clinging to mountainsides, interspersed with tea plantations and corn. Layers upon layers of patterns, and color inspired us.

This region is known for the most beautiful rice fields in Vietnam. Being more accessible than our previous location we began to experience more tourism. Where we did not see any foreigners before, we began to see more buses and obvious tourists. Having been spoiled and privileged with no one stepping into our photographs with a cell phone or posing to take selfies, we did not take kindly to the intrusion.

Information as to our daily activities comes slowly, or as we all suspected, purposely being sprung on us at the last minute. We found out we would again be on the back of motorbikes. The particular viewpoint we were going to was up at the very top of a steep mountain. A toothy grinning teenager motioned me onto his bike. Hardly on the back, he took off as if we were being chased by bandits into traffic, cutting across oncoming traffic to a narrow concrete pathway and up a hill at about a 40 percent grade. Hanging on the back, we sped around switchback curves, narrowly missing chickens, dogs, people and oncoming motor scooters while edging to the side of ten thousand drop into the valleys.

Arriving at the top, we experienced our first “tourist” experience. Shops rented various degrees of fancy Hmong dresses to wear while walking in the rice fields. People old and young hire photographers to come while they model. Groups of the younger generation gather to take selfies or Instagram style pictures, never bothering to look at the incredible view around them. It is all rather bizarre.

Once over the shock of this intrusion into one of the most spectacular sites I have ever experienced, we were able to walk away from the crowd and find areas with no tourists to photograph. Although I will say, the scene provided a form of “street photography.” Meanwhile, in the valley were workers cutting and thrashing the rice into a large container. The heat was oppressive and you wonder how they could stand it, dressed head to toe with protective clothes to keep them from getting sun burned.

The contrast with valley workers probably making three dollars an hour to the money spent by the tourist at the top shocked us. I imagine it is not much different in the U.S., with people posing against mountain scenery. The fields were beautiful with marigolds, and purple flowers planted along the rice paddies, wooden huts dotted throughout, and the ever changing shadows on the mountains, it creates an unforgettable scene.

One more ride up to the top of another mountain, this time I chose an older woman as my driver. The road was not as steep. I am becoming used to this form of getting to the top of mountains and for my 81 year old self I am happy not to be climbing up in this altitude and steepness.

Today brings another motor scooter ride and lunch in a family home. We are still among the Hmong tribes. The colors and patterns of Vietnam is what I will take with me.

September 20

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Another day of sun, what luck, as Hanoi has been flooded. Here in the mountains we have had great weather. Surprise of surprises…what did I wish for last night? Some peanut butter! Breakfast today consisted of toast, fried eggs, cheese, and peanut butter. We were all delighted. Such a treat.

Off to the Sunday market about 10 minutes away. This one was so congested, it was impossible to get a clear shot of anyone or any activity. I finally came to the conclusion it would be good to move toward the food area and clothes as there is less activity. There I was able to get pictures of people eating, conversing, cooking and generally enjoying themselves. We spent about an hour and a half there, dogging mopeds, making friends with lots of people, some who spoke some English, but mostly it was sign language.

Later in the afternoon we took off for the rice fields and a town nearby. The fields were lovely, but the sun was still harsh so we went into town to photograph and waited until the sun began to set. At the very end of the market we came upon a friendly game of Chinese chess and spent a long time with them. The backdrop of a green door, kids watching their fathers, and the bantering back and forth added to the picture taking.

This area has enchanted us with fields of rice growing next to bubbling rivers, daily commerce being conducted, and the backdrop of high mountains with billowing clouds slowly moving across the sky. No other tourists to be seen, just eight of us wandering throughout the markets and fields and engaging with whomever we can. There are few places one can travel that still maintains the daily comings and goings, untouched by tourism.

After three nights in this ridiculous hotel we are happy to move on tomorrow. Our hotel has gold everywhere, Trump would love to stay here. It has 108 rooms and we were the only 12 staying here. It is owned by a woman in her forties and from what we understand it is not even close to making a profit. She owns several hydro plants so I think she does not worry about filling her hotel,

September 19

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Food alert! I am good with rice noodles, and chicken broth, and fairly benign chicken parts for my breakfast. But I am not OK with a huge round basket full of animal parts. Presentation was one quarter of a large basket platter offering pig intestines, next quarter included clobbered chicken parts with skin, tendons, fat, and the bones. The third quarter consisted of pork fat with a tiny bit of meat, and the fourth quarter was a rectangle of God knows what translated as “meatloaf.” However, he sticky rice was delicious with a bit of fish sauce and ground peanuts topped with strange stringy looking greens. I am dreaming of hamburgers, yogurt, raspberries, peanut butter, bread, cheese, and cold water.

Up at 5 AM and on the road by 5:30. Our destination was an hour and a half away to a Saturday market. Upon arrival we ate our rice noodle soup with about 70 people in what felt like an auditorium. Sitting next to me was a mother and her son, who shyly gave us a smile, he then went back to slurping his soup. After breakfast we headed into the market which was more diverse than the local food market we experienced the evening before. This market not only Hmong people selling goods, but red and black Dao selling.The way to identify the red and black Dao is by the woman’s head dress. Some older women had black teeth, that having been a sign of beauty. They stained their teeth with beetle nuts. I bought several different pieces of cloth to add to my collection as the various cloths were embroidered with beautiful designs.

After the fabulous lunch I described above, we got back on the bus and headed for a national park where a winding path took us a mountain to a most stupendous view. On the way up, we came upon young girls resting by motorbikes. As we photographed them, an older woman and a young girl came climbing up a steep hill beside us, bringing enormous bags of potatoes on their backs. The girls were 15 and had to quit school to work in the fields because the families needed them to make money. It is sad to see these girls cannot follow a dreams.

After leaving this park, we went to a bridge where the local people were drying corn. The corn lay on tarps on the cement payment in the boiling hot son. Small pathways made way for motorbikes carrying huge bags, up to 8 at a time, to a central area. Meanwhile small children napped in the shade of small straw covered huts, and children played in the river, catching frogs or floating with the current. The valley floor of rice fields gave way to towering mountains in the distance. A twelve hour day, but worth every minute of it

September 18

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Awakening to a rainy day we had a leisure morning. Our plans were cancelled due to the rain which most of us were happy as we were all tired and wanting to catch up on things. Several people walked through the village to explore the handiwork they were offering for sale, while others worked on their computers.

We left around 1:00 PM for our next destination which is the city of Sin Has. This is the most bizarre place. It is a town built by the government and it looks like no one lives here. But even more bizarre is the hotel we are staying at. We left a place that was rustic, full of vibrant Hmong families and arrive at this hotel which is huge, grand, and no one is around. The front entrance is easily over 15 feet high and opens into a large cavernous marble lobby. Trump would be in seventh heaven in this place with gold everywhere. Leaving behind our lovely village to arrive in this disgusting hotel was quite a shock. But they do have laundry service which after 4 days of not having any clean clothes to wear, is luxury.It turns out nothing dries here because it is so humid.

After a rest we went to the food market filled with tons of vegetables, fruits and all manners of meat. It was better not to examine the meat too closely. From the live ducks and chickens, to the cats and dogs available, I thought I would not be able to eat dinner. The market was lively,with mopeds darting here and there full of nightly shoppers buying fresh food to take home for dinner. And I mean fresh, one pan of fish splashed so energetically I got my foot soaked. Meanwhile, I could have picked out my very own live chicken or duck to have it slaughtered, cut up into pieces and even cooked for me. Thankfully that was not required of me, or I would definitely become a vegetarian.

Tomorrow 5:00 wake up call and 5:30 hit the lobby.

September 15,2026

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The alarm sounds at 4:30 AM, ready for the dawn patrol, and a 5AM meeting time. What’s Ap starts binging with messages of pouring rain and decisions of whether we should go to the market which is only partially covered. Pouring rain was an understatement, one could not hope to step outside without getting completely soaked. We had been provided with raincoats that would fit the average 6 ‘5″ man weighing 350 pounds. So coverage was not the issue, however, suffocating under them and having them drag in the mud proved to be a challenge. Yet,we stoic dedicated photographers loaded ourselves into the vans provided.

Off a just waking up market, we were warned to look in all directions as not to be annihilated by motor scooters with 100 pounds of cabbage, or plywood, or just about anything you can load on a truck. Narrow pathways divided the stalls. The motorbikes wove in and out between people pushing loaded hand carts. Meanwhile the tarps that were held up by bending poles were releasing the water weight like a waterfall, dumping pounds of water onto the muddy lanes. Where were we? Trying desperately to stay dry. Some of our cameras went on strike from the moisture, even the iphones refused to submit to the weather. The raincoats for the camera did not really fit, the plastic bag trick failed, and whatever head gear we were wearing also failed. Our feet sloshed around in our shoes, and the inside of the rain gear was just about as wet as the outside from our sweating from the humidity.

After two hours of shooting we got together and exchanged stories of our interactions with people, animals, trucks, motor scooters and the rain. Off to breakfast of Pho in a tiny restaurant, then back to the a another market called the Thief’s market. Full of mechanical tools, wires, rubber, saws, compressors both used, and stolen, anything you could want to fix something was found here. Finding pictures to take was interesting, my favorite being the millions of electrical wires tangled together on poles, trees, or just about anywhere you can use to attach something. How anyone could figure out where wires provided electricity to what, would be anyone’s nightmare. Despite the rain, we had a great experience.

We are now looking forward to our massages before we get on a night train to Lao Cai outside Sapa. Up north into a non tourist areas, where we are hopeful it stops raining.

Vietnam September 14-October 2,2026

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September 14th:

Beginning on September 11th we started our journey, leaving Stowe to Burlington a forty five minute trio, then one hour to JFK, five hours waiting, seventeen hours from JFK to Singapore, 5 AM arrival, waiting until 9:30 AM for our plane to Hanoi, two and a half hours to Hanoi, one hour to our hotel, thirty-one hours in total, we arrive exhausted on September 13 at 1:00 PM. Lunch at 2:00 pm, and then our driver said he had plans to take us shopping. I looked at him like he was a creature from another planet. Seriously? Apparently, the purpose of this excursion was to acquaint me with the clothing shops that featured Vietnamese style clothing. Imagine my enthusiasm, as I could barely put one foot in front of the other. Why could this not be put off until the next day when I was rested. Answer: I was the tour guide for the rest of the group who would arrive on Monday the 14th. So off we go, me and three men who had not the slightest interest in this endeavor. Imagine a shop that is 12 feet wide and 100 feet long filled with beautiful silk and linen fabric all hand embroidered. Now imagine the clothes all hanging on various racks with the aisles being maybe 1.5 feet wide, add in three men standing waiting for you to decide what you may like. After about three stores I called it quits, stating that I could not stand up for one minute longer. Nor could I take 3 men standing and yawning.

It was an early night, as we wanted to get up at 6 AM to go to the lake to see all the morning activity. Taking our lives in our hands, we crossed the busy streets with scooters and cars aiming for us. The word was. “Do not run across the street” as the cars and motor scooters steer around you and if you run they cannot judge how you plan to go. Once you get the hang of it, it is not difficult. The park around the lake wakes up to many activities. I joined a ti chi class of older people figuring I could move as much they were. What fun. The instructor smiled, gave me the thumbs up and was quite enthusiastic to have me as a pupil. After a bit, I bowed my good-by to him and continued on my way. A bit farther around the lake, I found a group of men and woman dancing. Again I joined in and had such a good time laughing and dancing with 5 women. All of them dressed to the nines and me with my “tourist” clothes.

Shap meanwhile was missing, so I traced my steps back and found him playing badminton with three young girls. He definitely kept up his end of the game. And he was so happy to have found them. Hours later we headed back to the hotel.

The rest of the day was spent taking some of the woman shopping, a much different experience than the day before. Woman are so much more fun to be with when picking out clothes. Back to the hotel to meet the rest of the group, off to a fabulous lunch, then for a slide presentation by David Julian our instructor. This gave us a taste of where we were going and many ideas to mull over for photographing. Lastly we all trooped in the pouring rain for a half hour walk to “Train Street.: This is a street that is so narrow the train takes up the entire street. People line the sides crowding into a cafe, waiting for the train. When it is about to arrive, a whistle is blown and everyone is shoo’d off the tracks and told to tuck all feet under a chair. The whole event is quite spectacular and despite the fact it has become a tourist attraction it should not be missed.

Up at 5 AM, another day of pouring rains, we all have these enormous raincoats that envelope us so we look like blobs with feet,

228 Miles and Done

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What happens when you finish tip to tip ? You get a diploma and two blue ribbons with West End and East End on them. Yes, it is suppose to be 199 miles, but that does not count going 12 miles out of your way before you discover you took the wrong turn, nor does it cover having to get on your damn bike to find lunch. But we are now sitting in our comfortable bed at the Hotel Holman in Charlottetown ready to make the 11 hour trip home tomorrow. All I can say is the truck seat is a lot more comfortable than the bike seat. By the end of the trip I was looking at it as some medieval torture instrument.

We rode from Cavendish to St. Peter’s Bay on a cloudy, overcast day yesterday. It was probably the most scenic part of the trip with lots of views of the water, harbors, and long vistas of farmland to the ocean. At one point the fog rolled in and created a dreamy landscape for our pictures.

Dinner last night was a double scoop ice cream. There was not one place open for dinner as it was Tuesday night. St. Peter’s bay has a General store, an ice cream shop, a fish market where I think you can get dinner, a take out stand, and a tourist information center where we ate lunch and supposedly they served dinner. I think dinner is a repeat of lunch. So we slipped into the ice cream parlor and got an ice cream just before they closed at 7.

Today, our last day, we woke up to clear skies and bright sunlight. Of course, it would be our last day! This day was spent cycling along Route 16 the whole way to the Eastern tip. Except we took a wrong turn.We stopped at the interpretive center which was interesting and got a tip of a short cut to Route 16 without having to backtrack the entire way. This little mistake added 12 extra miles, but was worth it for the wonderful view.

In six days, we have seen chipmunks, geese (at least 50 all together), a fox, the National flower the “lady slipper,” beautiful lupine along the trail, buttercups, Sweet Williams, and various bird species that I could not identify. Included in the sites, we have seen fields of potatoes, blueberries, strawberries, and more potato fields. Lobster boats bringing in the catch around noon, much of it ending up in small eateries serving the PEI famous lobster roll. Richard’s was the best with a toasted bun, all meat, mostly claws with mayo, onion, chive, celery all mixed together. I actually think I have my fill of lobster rolls since I had one at least 4 days out of 6.

If I was asked how I liked the trip I would honestly say it was an accomplishment for me. Shap loved every bit. I have never been comfortable on a bike since I went over railroad ties onto my face when I was six, I am glad that I did it. I figure not many 81 year old women would do this unless they were extremely athletic, like my friend Carrie who bikes 100 miles like the wind. And so, the journey of this epic ride has ended, but there is always another adventure around the corner. As my father always said,”If I stop being curious, I hope I am 6 feet under.” A philosophy I hope always to live with.