Neither of us had slept very well on the train; we ate 2 of our banana's and snuggled in Edd's tiny bed for another half an hour. Our tiny nap kept being interrupted by people inviting themselves into our room to offer us tea/coffee or a bus to Sa Pa. (We were going to Lao Cai train station and it was another 1.5 hour journey to our final destination). We declined everyone, continuously and considering the time of day and the lack of sleep, manage to maintain our composure somewhat.

We got off the train at 6.20am and the vultures descended. 'Sapa taxi? Taxi to Sapa? You go Sapa? Me only 50 000 Dong?' I response was along the lines of: No thank you, no thank you, no thank you, no, no, no, I SAID NO. We walked down the street with a couple from Essex towards the bus station/parking area; taxis (the car type) wanted 400 000 Dong to Sapa. I told them categorically that they had rocks in their heads. After much negotiation, one of the mini bus taxis agreed to take the 4 of us for 40 000 Dong (10 000 Dong cheaper per person) and we all climbed in. The lady he had negotiated with ran back 5 minutes later and waved in Edd's face, then put her finger on her lips and said 'shh.' She was charging other tourists 50 000 Dong and didn't want him ruining her income and further. He and I sat in the front and dozed uncomfortably as the driver weaved between motorbikes, goats, cars, buses and people.

An hour and a half later, we arrived in Sapa and asked the driver where the church was. He replied with 'guest house' and pointed at the building we'd parked in front of; we replied with, 'no guest house, we need to find the church' and he responded with 'guest house' and pointed at the building again. Edd lost his rag and colourfully said, 'just forget it' the selective understanding of English was too much to handle this early in the morning after a night of no sleep.

We got out the mini bus and the vultures descended, again. This time some of them were dressed in brightly covered headscarves and strange attire, resembling gypsies; we were then informed that it was the dress code of the tribal people from the mountains, enlightened and made our way in a direction away from the carnivorous birds of prey. One of the tribal ladies struck up a conversation with Edd while I used a local cafe's bathroom; I came out and he informed me that she knew the lady we were meeting. She'd apparently read out Yin's number to him, after he'd told her he was going to call someone, which confirmed that she indeed knew who we were meeting and where we needed to find her - guilty until proven innocent, she was innocent.

She took us to the church where we met our guide and host for the next few days: Yin, with her baby boy strapped to her back. She asked us if we wanted breakfast and took us to a little restaurant in a back alley where a few other tourists were already sitting eating. There were local people and tribal people sitting at tables as well and we were surprised to see them spit bits of food they didn't like on the floor. This was going to be the beginning of many surprises. The tribal people had conversations with us about where we were from, what we did, how old we were, if we were married, if we had children, etc. They were very inquisitive, but then also very open about themselves, which made the conversation, if not a little broken, then very interesting. Everyone our age had babies, plural, when they got married, they wore bigger hooped earrings to show that they were taken, they all wore the same tribal attire, like a uniform, to show which village they were from, this included wrapping their lower legs, wearing brightly colour head scarves and a tunic, type jacket thing.

Our food took ages to arrive and after being there for over an hour, we left for our 3.5 hour trek to Yin's house in the mountains. She first gave us some time to look around the city streets and shops, which we didn't find very interesting, and made our way to the church again 20 minutes later. Edd found himself an attraction in his own right as people stopped and stared at him saying: 'You velly tall!' A group of what I think were Chinese tourists, insisted on taking a picture with him and I abandoned him with the hysterical, giggling girls that were beside themselves when he put his arm over their shoulders. The attention was hilarious and he loved it!

We met Yin again and she guided us down a side road, stopping to get arm bands for us along the way: I got a lump green one and Edd got a blue pink and purple one; she tied them to our arms with the bits of wool and then we walked to the beginning of the dirt path. The initial part of the trek involved a steep climb up, I needed to take frequent breaks, my lack of sleep not helping the situation. We got to the top and were above the clouds; the view was stunning to say the least and Edd and I took a large amount of pictures as we trekked. Yin had a friend walk with her, who also had a baby on her back; both of them had umbrellas to shield their babies from the intermittent sun the made an appearance between the clouds above us. We were wedged between clouds below us and clouds above us with the mist rolling up to cover the vast landscape, ruining the views at times. Everything was damp and water droplets clung to stray hairs gluing them to our faces.

We stopped for lunch at a local restaurant and sat with a group of other tourists while the locals congregated together with their offspring. Little children stood at our table, snot running down their faces, offering us arm bands singing in unison, 'Please buy one from me?' After a vast number of 'no thank you's' I get my teacher voice out and they scattered. They came back intermittently singing the same tune, but gave me a wide berth.

We continued to walk for anther hour and a half passing 2 small villages. We eventually got to Yin's house, which was perched in the middle of the side of a mountain. The 'stairs' to her house was earth that he been strategically cut away and we ascended, again, to her abode. A pig sty lay to our right with a mommy pig and about 8 babies, Yin's husband was busy constructing a pen for a goat and there was a chicken hut just further up from that. They also had a dog with 3 puppies and not-so-baby chicks running around. The puppies were not socialised and quiet scared of people; we had noticed that although people in Asia had pets, they never really interacted with them or gave them any love and affection. Edd and I took a liking to the runt of the litter who would stand frozen in fear when we stroked him; we name him Mutley (with the other 2 called Hamlet and Omlet just so they were left out) the mother remained nameless as she was not a very nice dog, so we didn't bother.

Yin's house was made of wood and bamboo and built on ground that had been cut away from the mountain, exposing a clay floor. They'd dug an irrigation system around the house which then kept the water from pooling inside the house when it rained, the floor inside the house was raised, dry and cracked. An ingenious way to create a floor, even if it was dusty. The house comprised of 4 rooms: you walked into the dining room and had the main bedroom and fire pit to your right, our room to your left and then the actual kitchen area at the end on the left. The walls were made of wood and bamboo, but there were gaps between them, allowing the damp mountain air in at will. There were no cupboards, shelves or storage areas, everything was kept off the floor though with the use of bags or by hooking things on nails in the walls or on the gap between the wall and the roof. It was basic, to say the least. Modest, but fulfilled their needs.

We were shown our room, which was a bed with blankets on it, no mattress or pillows, covered with a mosquito net and then with tarpaulin for privacy. We and dumped our things down and then after 10 minutes of consideration, had a much needed nap. We left the family to build their goat pen, with Yin and her husband getting cross with their middle child (a girl, nicknamed 'the noisy one') for hoeing the ground they'd already planted seeds in. The older child (also a girl, total poser, called Chow which means 'little basket) was trying to saw a piece of wood like her dad to build the goat pen; she was not succeeding, but she tried very hard.

We got up at 5pm to Yin chopping up vegetables for supper. We sat with her at the fire and watched her concoct an array of things in her pots that were balanced on a metal bar across the open pit fire in their bedroom. Her husbands cousin joined us for dinner that night and we enjoyed a delicious meal with the family and their other guest. Her husband and his cousin drank rice wine with Edd (Yin and I opted out after the first round) and the 3 of them finished 3/4 of a 1.5 litre bottle of the stuff. Edd struggled to get comfortable on their little wooden chairs as his long legs had no where to go. He eventually turned a large rectangular log of wood on its side and balanced precariously on it; Yin's husband then joked in Vietnemese that he was going to fall off in a minute after all the rice wine he drank; we all laughed and luckily, he didn't fall.

After clearing up dinner, we went and brushed our teeth in the stream that flowed along the side of their house. It was only 8pm, but we'd had a long 24 hours and needed to sleep very badly.