Border town
Continuing her trip into the remote north of Vietnam, Duc Hanh travels to Simacai, a mysterious border town with imposing cloudy peaks and a vibrant market .

Before traveling north my friend had recommended I rent a room in Bac Ha then take a day trip to Simacai as there are no rooms in the border town. At just 26km from Bac Ha town, it is a relatively short trip, though the road is a long and winding one. As I am travelling on the back of motorbike on unfamiliar and unpredictable roads a bit of caution is required by the driver (my husband!).

Contrary to the misty Can Cau market the sky above Simacai is clear and blue. With a cool breeze on my face I take a deep breath and bask in the glory of the seemingly endless mountain ranges around. On the road I can see the roof-tops far down below in the valleys. The landscape is the most beautiful and peaceful I have come across on my journey so far.

The young flower Mong women I see along the road are like the fairies in this bucolic paradise. After an hour driving at a snail’s pace, I arrive at the Border Martyrs’ Cemetery on the outskirts of Simacai. Here brave border soldiers who laid down their lives to defend their country are buried. Situated at an altitude of 1,000 meters above sea level, the average temperature of Simacai town is about 15 degrees Celsius. The district of Simacai stretches across 23,000ha in Lao Cai province.

There are 11 ethnic minorities living in the district, but Mong people account for 81.4 percent (The name Simacai means “the new horse market’ in Mong.) Different from what I imagined an out-of-the-way town might look like, Simacai town is rather spacious and tidy. The town centre is positively stately with modern governmental and administrative buildings leaning against the mountain backdrop.

Shops providing internet cards, Sim Cards and cable TV services line the streets along with coffee shops, karaoke bars and restaurants. It’s a bustling border town – so where are the hotels and guesthouses? Coming between modern concrete and brick houses are thatch-roofed, wooden or earthen houses of Mong people.

Also merging with Western-styled shirts and trousers are the colourful traditional outfits worn by Mong women. The town seems to be an axis on which modern and traditional worlds swirl around. Following Vinh, a young local I meet in a cafe, I visit a Chinese temple in ruins.

Only two stone lions and an obsolete entrance can be seen now. “Twenty years ago, before the temple collapsed, it was said to be a sophisticated and marvellous building before it burnt down during a border war,” says Vinh. When I ask about the absence of hotels and guesthouses, Vinh assures me there are several ones here with reasonable prices.

But tourism is low key here and foreigners need to have a permit to stay at a hotel. That’s why most foreign tourists drive from Bac Ha in the morning to catch the market. But we can stay. My husband, the gallant man that he is, heads back to fetch our luggage in Bac Ha. This means I get to relax on the balcony of Thu Huong guesthouse, from where I can see the weather changing quite visibly above the mountains.

At six in the evening, suddenly the whole town is pitch-dark as the power goes off. We eat a candle-lit dinner of delicious mountain chicken. But with little to do in the evening we have a good sleep (in a clean room). Its lucky that we have had such an early night as at the ungodly hour of five in the morning, the town comes alive. I wake up rather befuddled but then I remember – the Sunday market! I look out from the balcony.

Rain is coming down thick and heavy so there’s no rush to head out. But outside the guesthouse members of Mong, La Chi, Phu La, Nung Hill Tribes in colourful costumes are already congregating under their umbrellas. People on their way to the market carry babies as well as baskets of vegetables.

Others have black pigs or small dogs on a leash, or horses loaded with goods. Opposite the market entrance, by the Simacai Frontier Post, there is a band of horses fidgeting in the rain as traders quietly negotiate a price. Though the market is muddy underfoot and rather crowded, we decide to get in amongst it. You can find stacks of embroidery, traditional tools, electric home utensils, accessories, food and drink.

Oddly, just like at Can Cau market ice cream is everywhere. Even a toothless old woman with a chicken under one arm is enjoying one. Even though the ice cream costs just VND500 we decide to go find some noodles for breakfast instead before exploring the valleys beyond Simacai.

Bac Ha is famous not only for the special clothes of the girls in the mountainous area or the forest covered with the white plum flowers when spring comes, but also for the great ardent yeast of corn wine.

That wine is cooked from the only one material - corn planted on the milpa of H'mong people. May be because of the weather of the high land, corn kernels in this region are yellow, small, firm and nutritious. Mixing those corn kernels with a kind of special ferment produced from "hong my" (the grain which is similar to millet), H'mong people created a special wine which is unmistakable with other wines made in other areas in the North-Western region. People only need to open the stopper and taste and they could know whether it is corn wine of Bac Ha. When tasting the first drop of wine, that person will feel like burning and that feeling will spread to the whole body. But the ardent taste makes people feel passionate and impetuous but does not make them dizzy or have headache. Perhaps that is because of the original method that the local residents use to resist the cold of the winter.

Enjoy corn wine of Bac Ha
Corn is planted everywhere, and wine is displayed throughout all markets. However, it is supposed that no kind of corn or wine in other places can be compared with those produced in Ban Pho. The wine of Ban Pho is torrid and very hot but it brings a sweet taste like the quintessence of the earth and firmament. People said that Ban Pho (a village of the ethnic group H'mong Hoa which stays at the distance of 4 kilometres from Bac Ha) has a precious source of water which is clean and pure. Thus, the residents could distill such delicious wine. About the corn, it is planted on the milpa and people take it home, boil it (but it should not be overdone), and then blend it with ferment made from "hong my". They keep it inside the pig-iron barrels in about one week. During these days, small fire is set under those barrels; the wine will be vaporized and the steam then will settle down into wine and pour out. Ten kilos of corn bring us three litres of wine. Time passing, this corn wine has changed many times because "hong my" plants are rarely grown in both Ban Pho and Bac Ha. The wine now is fermented more and also sold more to tourists. Maybe only some years later, the old flavour of the initial wine will only exist in the memory of excursionists who have once loved this land. Today, coming to Bac Ha or Sa Pa, travellers find it easy to buy the wine here, especially in Ban Pho. Drinking wine with some specialties of the land such as "men men" or "thang co" will bring interesting memories for the trips.