Sapa, coffee in the clouds

Down the street, the umbrellas are moving into a colorful river, I sit and watch the rain suddenly follow the clouds through the streets.

Sa Pa one summer day, it was still chilly early in the morning with a white veil fog. By noon, the sun will rise, the clouds will disperse, the blue sky will shorten one color. And in the evening, maybe again surrounded by clouds, sometimes there are sudden rains because of cloudy, clear rain right away, beams, enough to wet the porch, the hanging orchids hanging on the porch, enough to wet the umbrellas to cover the rain in a hurry and the road gently sloping down to Sa Pa church.

One day all four seasons, spring, summer, autumn and winter like that, making those who forget the jacket also shuddered a little because of the cold and the fist was somewhat tighter when night came.

The road to Sapa through the mountain pass, through the clouds floating. Photo: Quan TP.

Going to Sapa is now so easy. The train runs overnight from Hanoi to Lao Cai with all trips, including tickets lying down, up to the mountain town of Lao Cai in the morning. Passenger buses specializing in Lao Cai - Sa Pa route are ready to welcome guests. It takes VND30,000 by car to go round the slopes, through valleys of clouds and terraced fields in the young seedling planting season, Sa Pa is in the distance, behind clouds and pine forests. Nearly 40km and nearly an hour drive, we have gone between clouds and sky.

Sa Pa still intact pictures of many years ago. Still Sa Pa church alone amidst the cold fog, still the stairs always wet to the market, still the houses with awnings overlooking the sloping road, still brocade market with children Black croup speaks enough Vietnamese and English to welcome guests and the green pine trees soar when the wind comes.

Walk down the street, wander in the long, smoking streets, sit and eat in the crowded stalls in the market, pear on the sidewalks with the aromatic hot baked corn and sip a cup of coffee in a small street shop interesting.

The Dao woman grunts with her stitches. Photo: Tran Phong.

Coffee is simply coffee. But coffee on a high street corner overlooking the long street below, overlooking the church and the valley far away. Down the street, the flow of people did not stop. A foreign couple in brightly colored windbreakers was opening the door to a brocade stall. A Mongolian girl sits with her chin on the sidewalk and her hands on all kinds of plaited unsold strings. Jingle, the sound of pretty items with small bells from peddlers walking and skipping. A couple of young people come out of the market, on top of the glass, su su tops, pumpkin tops. Maybe today they left Sapa.

A crowd of about 5-6 people who were walking and talking and laughing, stopped and took a pose to take pictures. On the shoulder saw a brocade scarf, on his head saw a black hat of the son of Mongolia. A car just stopped at the corner, parked quickly and went fast, landing on the street were a few guests wearing dirty backpacks, mud-covered limbs, dirty shoes. They have just conquered Fanxipang, the roof of Indochina. On the tired face, there was the cheerful, happy and proud eyes.

Sa Pa in the clouds.

Afternoon let go. A few raindrops from the passing clouds touched the street. Colorful umbrellas have sprung up, the whole street is moved in a colorful river. Under the umbrellas are young couples, chirping lovers, old, leisurely old friends. They come to Sa Pa to reward themselves with a little break time, a little quiet after the rush days.