Buzz
I've never been to Đồng Văn (Hà Giang) before, only heard that the stretch from Yên Minh district would be a treacherous mountain pass. How treacherous it is, I couldn't imagine at that time.
Young woman conquers Lũng Cú flagpole on her Hà Giang adventure
I decided to visit Hà Giang one evening when I was nineteen. Everyone who knew about this plan tried to discourage me because this route isn't easy. For a few moments, I even felt a bit hesitant.
Unable to persuade anyone else, the next day, my brother and I set off with a backpack full of food, along with a toolbox securely strapped to the backseat. One of us dreams of conquering the peak of Lũng Cú, while the other simply dreams of enjoying a bowl of hot porridge amidst the swirling smoke in the remote wilderness.
The road from Hanoi to Hà Giang city hardly compares to the stretch from there to Đồng Văn. According to the itinerary, we were supposed to be in Đồng Văn by the first evening, but at 6:30 PM, we only reached Yên Minh district, 50 km away from our destination. I've never been to Đồng Văn before, only knew that from here would be a very dangerous mountain pass. How dangerous it was, I couldn't fathom at that time.
Before embarking on the daunting mountain pass ahead, we stopped at a nearby gas station to fill up our tank and purchase an extra bottle of reserve gasoline. The gas attendant warned us: 'Heading to Đồng Văn, huh? It's really cold up there now, and you guys aren't used to this road down here, won't make it through. Better spend the night here and head up tomorrow morning.' We just laughed nervously and didn't dare to say anything, determined to push through.
The road ahead was eerily silent with not a single streetlight. I tried to come up with various stories to tell to ease the fear, but couldn't say much. My brother focused on driving, I sat behind, eyes fixed on the road. At this point, I began to feel foolish, the beautiful roads are meant for daytime travel, and the treacherous ones are saved for nighttime. On one side, there were hills, on the other, cliffs, all seamlessly merging into one another, the headlights only revealing the path ahead.
After passing a few hills, we encountered 1-2 motorcycles going in the opposite direction. Whenever we saw someone else on the road, it felt reassuring, but when we were alone, no one to talk to, the mind conjured up all sorts of fears. The feeling of traveling dozens of kilometers before seeing any lights, before seeing signs of human habitation, made my brother and me feel ecstatic. Stopping at Đồng Văn, we looked at each other and sighed with relief: 'We're alive.'
The next morning, we went to the market together. Đồng Văn on a normal day doesn't have the Khâu Vai fair or any special market days. The market sells everything, even Adidas shoes in boxes labeled in Chinese.
The two of us had breakfast, wandered around, then set off for Lũng Cú. The road leading to Lũng Cú is a series of winding curves nestled amidst towering rocky mountains, with patches of rice and corn fields exuding a fragrant aroma on either side of the road.
As we neared the flagpole, we counted each milestone along the way, the excitement making our hearts pound in our chests. Looking up from below, the national flag fluttered proudly, filling us with more pride than ever. I had just passed through sections dotted with 'Frontier Area' signs, but now I saw the red flag with a yellow star fluttering in the mist of the mountains.
Ascending nearly 600 steps to stand at an altitude over 1,700 meters above sea level made us feel like anything we said was redundant, just silently gazing at the land and sky. The only sound at that moment was the fluttering of the flag in the wind.
Observing the winding road we had just traversed from this height was truly an exhilarating experience. With just a reach of my hand, I could cover an entire village, yet I felt strangely small standing here. Like escaping the hustle and bustle of the city, I found a destination that brought peace to my soul.
Perhaps what I love about Đồng Văn, about Lũng Cú, isn't just the fresh air or the majestic mountains, but the people here themselves. I'm not sure if people from elsewhere rarely visit here, but whoever I meet, it seems like they have a hundred stories to tell.
I'm not sure if they teach the local children to say “Hello” in anticipation of a few pieces of bread or candy that tourists bring, but I appreciate the frail hands waving hello as I pass by. At least I feel welcomed in this cold, remote mountainous area.
Finally, I touched the national flag, considered the northernmost point of Vietnam. My brother also enjoyed a steaming bowl of childhood porridge in the freezing cold amidst the mountains. We didn't embark on this journey to perform charity, didn't bring books or clothes for the children to receive gratitude and heartfelt emotions from the locals.
I didn't bring anything up there, but I brought back something. It's the life that I complain about every day, yet it's infinitely better than the deprivation faced by the people here. I have warm clothes to wear every day, I get to eat to my heart's content, I get to go to school. I don't have to bend my back carrying firewood over the hills, don't have to skip school to herd goats so that every descent doesn't leave me limping... I feel lucky.
As per Zing News
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Reference: Mytour Travel Handbook
MytourOctober 19, 2016
