Between clouds and phone cameras

I was in Sapa - more sky than ground under my feet - and decided not to simply take the cogwheel train to the summit of Fansipan from the intermediate station of the cable car, but to walk the endless number of stairs.

An eternity later, several meters in altitude, beads of sweat and what felt like detours (which, strangely enough, also led down, even though I wanted to go up), I arrived:

On the roof of Vietnam.

Above: people, photos, selfies. Everyone was holding their cell phones in the air - the summit had been reached, and I wanted to prove it.

I joined in. After all, you have to do what summiteers do: take a selfie with the height, the sky and the wind.

After the well-earned “I've done it” moment, it was back down again - not without more stairs leading back up for a change, of course.

And then, somewhere halfway up, it happened:

The moment when I became a sight to behold.

Two Vietnamese women came up to me, smiled, spoke loudly to me in Vietnamese and held up their phone cameras. I assumed they wanted me to take their picture.

But no.

They wanted a photo with me!

Not with the mountain, not with the view, not with the pagoda.

With me.

Sweaty, with tousled hair, traveling alone, but obviously... an event.

I don't know if I'll now appear somewhere in Vietnamese family albums under the title “Tourist at 3,143 meters” - but I hope so a little... hahahaaaaa