Sa Pa love market
We made our own love market yesterday. Richard had just finished having what turned out to be a very expensive haircut and we went off to have a coffee. The timing on my camera says it was about 3 pm, although it was very misty by now and getting dark.
Four and a half hours later I was stumbling back down the road, totally totally drunk and dressed in all manner of local clothing including some baggy trousers, lots of bags and some necklaces.
We had made our own love market, with the fiolks at the market including a pretty young Vietnamese girl, this shady character a Black Hmong who started us off on the deadly rice wine, and a host of mainly Red Dzao women, icluding the formidable Mother Dzao. Rgis is about as much as I can remember, I am ashamed to say.
Richard looked after me exceedingly well, and apparently, after putting me to bed, he went to the official Love Market, a Saturday evening affair where the local young lads and lasses are supposed to meet up and find a prospective husband or wife. Of course, the tourists have come and the original participants have left and Richard remarked that it was a very disappointing affair. Still talked about in all the tourist literature though.