At 7:30 on a very cold, damp and foggy morning I began what turned out to be a very interesting bus trip to DBP. Not only because the scenery was as usual spectacular in that North Vietnam way but also because I got talking to the person next to me who turned out to be a very nice 68 year old french woman who is an artist who travels around the world when she sells her paintings. She was on a 3 month trip to SEA. We had a lovely conversation over the next 8 hours of the trip.
It is a funny sensation talking to someone new while experiencing the most awesome scenery all around you. We first went around Fansipan, the highest mountain in Vietnam. astounding views; valleys, strangely shaped peaks and hanging valleys peering secretly from behind imposing mountains. The whole thing had a Lord of the Rings feel to it. I expected to see Bilbo strolling down the road arm in arm with Gandalf. At least the weather as right. Wet cold and not foggy any more.
Coming into DBP was an anticlimax. It is not a pretty town. You get a strong frontier feel as if they are just hanging in there. Not quite believing that they could make much more of a go of it. People did not seem very friendly and the hotel staff positively weren't. I did not care though as I was excited to get into the battlefield and see where General Giap fought the battle from. This I did the next day.
A little man had latched onto me at the bus station and the next day there he was outside my hotel. I figured I might as well engage him as a guide as I had no idea where anything was. This turned out to be an inspired move as he took me to all the French hill emplacements still there. We also called in at one of the three Vietnamese cemeteries to the fallen. For me it was a heart rending experience to see grave after grave after grave. We also visited the French monument which was tasteful but very small. Each time we stopped whether it was at the French generals bunker or Hill A1 (Ariadne) I got this overwhelming feeling that the French never stood a chance. They may have been able to kill an inordinate amount of Viet Minh but they were never going to win. The best part of the day was the trip to general Giap's headquarters high up on the tallest mountain hidden away from French view by mountain and jungle. It was over 40 Kms from the town by road. Well I'll call it a road if we can agree that Wallace road at the Channon is a major highway. Up and up we went bouncing from pothole to crater. We passed through several Thai (not from Thailand but a separate ethnic group) villages with heaps of kids out playing in the dust. We went across at least two hanging valleys with rice paddies drying away in the after harvest fallow. Finally we arrived at the base of a hill covered in jungle. A path made its way into the interior. We walked along it for about 1 Km. Finally we came not to a jungle clearing but to a number of bamboo huts hidden in the jungle. Here was GG's house and here was the tunnel he used to plan the battle and to communicate with his 2 iC.The French really never had a chance. The complex here was sophisticated and very well hidden. From here they controlled the bombardment of the town.
I returned to the town exhausted. I realised that I had assaulted most of the hill forts in one day when it had taken the Viet Minh 3 months. OK so no one was shooting at me and there were no barbed wire emplacements to deter access but I still felt exhausted and strangely fulfilled. The next day was the beginning of a new saga with the first leg of the trip down river to Luang Prabang.
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