A special food sighting occurred in the hill station town of Sapa. We alighted from the dawn train and weaved our way up the mountain road, a snake through a green landscape of rice terraces and corn fields. Bleary eyes greeted hotel manager after hotel manager. We hadn't booked and it was the weekend. The trip had been character-building, by way of a hard sleeper cabin with no air-conditioning on the evening of a 39C day.
After a third dose of no vacancy, we recruited the services of an eight year old black H'mong girl -traditionally dressed in hemp, bejewelled with silver, shoed in brown plastic - to lead us to accommodation. Little darling took us via the Saturday morning market, where my day took an immediate turn for the better. I love a good market. I think I might have mentioned that on a prior occasion...once or twice!!
I especially love it when I have to break into a huddle of money grabbing, puffs of steam and packages being secreted away. This market vendor was digging out rainbow rice.
What a way to start the day!
Cua May St