Towards the Peak: Mount Fansipan

16 July 2025

When I first sat down to write this, I was not sure how to begin. This trip was not life-changing. It was not particularly dramatic. But it mattered. It still fills my mind days later, and if you are reading this, you are probably:

This is not a guidebook. It is simply my experience, shared the way I would over tea, without filters. If something here helps you plan or reflect, I am glad. If you need more info, feel free to reach out.

What is Mount Fansipan?

Mount Fansipan sits at 3,143 meters above sea level – the highest peak in Vietnam and the entire Indochina region. Locally it is called Phan Xi Păng. It is part of the Hoàng Liên Sơn range in Lào Cai province, just outside Sapa.

In recent years most tourists reach the summit by cable car. It is fast, convenient, and impressive. But if you choose to hike instead, the experience feels different: the air is heavier, the mornings sharper, and the memories more lasting.

The Trails to Mount Fansipan

There are three main routes, each with pros and challenges:

I hiked up via the Cat Cat Trail and descended on the Tram Ton Trail.

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Our starting point was Hoang Lien National Park at about 1,800 meters. We were all happy and excited to start the hike, fearless yet nervous about what was ahead. The rocks were not as slippery as on Mount Rinjani, which meant the way up was easier once we got closer to the top. The problem with Mount Fansipan is that while the altitude difference may seem small, the total elevation gain is over 3000 meters because the route upward is not just a straight climb. You may climb for an hour and only gain 100 meters in elevation. I would not say it is an encouraging route at all.

Setting Off

We woke up early on Thursday, 27 March, had breakfast at Sapa Yen Hotel, and prepared to enter Hoàng Liên National Park.

The temperature was about 16 degrees at Hoang Lien National Park, so we did not feel the need to wear heavy jackets. In fact, we felt a bit hot as we ascended. Mount Fansipan is not a smooth upward climb. There are many different sized rocks and slippery moss that make the climb harder. Along the way we see streams of spring water flowing from the crevices of many fissure springs. The difference between Rinjani and Fansipan is the number and level of slopes going up and down. There are more ups and downs than I ever expected while climbing Fansipan. There are no toilets along the way so if you need to relieve yourself you have to use the bushes. I used our rest breaks to put on my sunglasses and neck warmer since the neck warmer helps you the most when you feel cold because it warms the area where blood flows the most.

Our guide, Minh, introduced himself early on during the hike. He is a Hmong speaking person who belongs to the Miao ethnic group, the largest ethnic minority group in China. The H’Mong are the largest ethnic minority group around Hoang Lien National Park. We also encountered other ethnic communities such as the Dao and Day. Starting a conversation with many of them was easy because many speak English well, having learned it from tourists or at school. By talking to them you hear fascinating stories, share a meal, and sometimes even experience genuine hospitality when you are invited into their home even if only for a day.

Together with Minh as our guide, his uncle joined us as our porter. We were each handed a simple wooden hiking stick and a large bottle of water. Along the way we saw water buffalos, wild vegetables growing out of the raw soil of the national park, and amazing streams of spring water flowing down from the many fissure springs. Minh and his uncle spoke to each other in their dialect. I first thought it was just Vietnamese spoken in a different way but soon I learned that in Vietnam there are 54 different tribes and his family migrated from China when he was 4. He learned Hmong from his parents, teaching simple words like “eat dinner” and others before spending 12 years learning Vietnamese in school. The ethnic locals in Vietnam have their own language but they also learn the national language so that they can speak with each other.

On the way up we saw the cable car. Our guide explained that its construction was completed in 2013 and the cable car takes only about 20 minutes from the summit to Sapa Central. Every day the cable car runs from 7:30 AM to 3:30 PM. We also saw other local guides working with their groups.

We approached our first base camp at 12:45 PM and ate lunch there. Lunch was served on simple tables at a clearing with a stunning view. Colored sticky rice, slices of mango, steamed fish cakes, lime, and salt were put on our plates.

After lunch we continued our climb. The path was a mix of gradual inclines and sudden steep sections. The climb felt like a long spaghetti of windy ups and downs. For an hour of climbing, you might only gain a small elevation while preparing you for the next challenge. The climb was demanding. My legs burned and my breath became shallow as I struggled on rock and moss. I remember feeling the weight of each step, feeling both determined and exhausted.

Every step became an emotional mix of pain and quiet joy. I saw small wildflowers growing between rocks and streams that danced at the sides of our path. The natural world was alive and persistent as we pushed higher. I took a moment to pause and put on my sunglasses and tighten my neck warmer, even if the air was only slightly cold. It is amazing how a small change of gear can give you comfort as you press on.

We climbed past rough stone steps, small ladders fixed to steep sections of rock, and stretches where the path seemed to coil around itself. The experience felt physical and emotional at the same time. I was reminded of every past hike I had done, each one leaving its own mark on my body and spirit. It is not an easy climb. Mount Fansipan is a mountain that demands respect and endurance. I could feel the constant up and down slope in every muscle. The route is an endless series of challenges that push you until you learn to appreciate the little moments of rest.

At times, I rested and looked around at the nature around me. I saw water buffalos grazing and wild vegetables sprouting among the raw soil. I felt a bond with the people who worked on this mountain every day, including local guides and porters who help travelers find their way upward. The air was filled with the sound of our own effort and the muted conversation between Minh and his uncle, trading stories in their native dialect.

We reached our second camp at 2,800 meters late in the afternoon. The wind had picked up as the clouds began to swirl tightly around us. At camp, Minh’s uncle cooked outdoors over charcoal in a metal pot. The meal was a humble offering of steamboat with bamboo shoots, mushrooms, pork, fresh greens, and local herbs. The wind had picked up and fog curled around our clothing and eyes. There was no electricity, only firelight. The meal was served with a small glass of homemade rice wine. I sipped the rice wine slowly as I watched darkness blend with the delicate glow of our makeshift camp fire. A little black cat joined us and found its way into my sleeping bag later that night. It was a small, warm companion in the cool mountain night.

We woke at 4:30 AM the next morning for the final push. It was dark and the cold pressed in around us. We stepped out silently with our headlamps to begin the ascent of the steep stairs and ladders that led to the summit. The air was biting, and every step felt like a heavy decision. As we neared the top, we saw the peak revealing itself through the clouds, quiet and solemn as we climbed past the heavy rocks.

By 6:00 AM we finally reached the summit at 3,143 meters. The triangular monument marking the highest point in Southeast Asia stood in the midst of a clear, gray sky. The wind was strong as it swept around us while we simply stood, catching our breath. The moment was quiet and profound.

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The descent took us along the Tram Ton Trail. Although the descent was a little easier than the climb, the constant movement reminded me that every journey has its own challenges. Along the way down, Minh and his uncle paused near a bush and returned with a blue plastic bucket holding a large bamboo rat. The creature was agitated and tried to escape, and Minh explained that in local tradition the bamboo rat is considered a morsel for dinner. The moment was wild and unexpected, a reminder that nature is always more complex than it seems.

Returning to Sapa, our hearts were still full and our bodies weary. We checked into My Gallery Boutique Hotel and took a long, hot shower. The simple act of cleaning up after such an intense experience made the reality of the journey feel even more vivid.

Final Thoughts

Mount Fansipan did not offer a grand revelation but it gave me small, meaningful reminders:

On the outside we climbed a mountain. Inside something softened and returned to stillness.

Practical Details and Tips

Our journey used the Cat Cat Trail for the ascent and the Tram Ton Trail for the descent. Our guide Minh, a local H’Mong, was invaluable on this trip. We stayed at Sapa Yen Hotel and later at My Gallery Boutique Hotel. Essential gear includes waterproof hiking shoes, trekking poles, a thermal base layer, gloves, a headlamp, a neck warmer, and a change of dry clothes for the night. The total elevation gain is over 3,000 meters because the trail is a long sequence of winding ups and downs. The cable car is available daily from 7:30 AM to 3:30 PM and takes 20 minutes from Fansipan to Sapa Central if you prefer an alternative.

The climb is physically demanding and emotionally stirring. Every step brings its own challenge and quiet reward. The mountain does not give grand revelations in loud bursts. Instead, it fills you with small, sincere moments that become memories for life.

If you need any advice or help regarding the Fansipan climb, feel free to message me!