Tak Pang Village

VHXQ - A rather whimsical nickname given to Tak Pang: the wandering village. This small village nestles behind an ancient forest and disappears beyond the grassy hills of Mo Ham whenever one leaves the mountain.

Tak Pang village nestles against the mountainside. Photo: THIEN TUNG

Tak Pang (Tra Tap commune) is not defined as a destination, but rather as a journey through forests, mountains, vegetation, and glimpses of slow-paced life drifting along the windswept hillsides.

Journey to the land of fairy tales

Following the stream cascading down from the hilltop are stone steps, mixed with rough patches of cement. The slope, built by the villagers, occasionally winds through tree roots, a testament to their reverence for the mountain. Over 800 steps test the endurance of the calf muscles for those climbing for the first time.

Sweat poured down, our breathing grew heavier, our lungs felt empty with constant pangs of pain in our chests. We struggled to stay on our feet, sometimes resting our hands on our knees, other times clinging to small trees along the roadside to catch our breath. Exhausted, yet driven by a burning desire to explore the village beyond the edge of the forest...

Tak Pang emerges from the verdant mountains, peaceful and secluded, evoking a forgotten realm of memories. From afar, the playful shouts of village children drift with the gray smoke, rising to the blue sky, beckoning new footsteps.

There was no specific map for Tak Pang. Winding and twisting, we got lost among the villagers' houses. At the highest point of the village was a small library nestled beside a trellis of gourds. The house stood out with its sky-blue color, adorned with simple yet vibrant drawings. The soothing music from a small radio lulled the books to sleep, waiting to be opened.

That's all there is to it; Tak Pang is sparsely populated. During the day, the villagers are out in the fields. A few children's voices chirping at the edge of the village are the only signs of activity. Yet, when the sun sets behind the mountains, the small hamlet suddenly bursts with its usual rhythm of life.

Slow living on the hillside

We left the library, walking briskly to the sound of the ball bouncing steadily on the community field. The group followed along the bare walls of the houses. There was no rush, no urging, just a leisurely pace, like the rhythm of the village.

Tourists choose Tak Pang to "slow down" and connect with nature. Photo: THIEN TUNG

Young men and women gathered around, seemingly out of nowhere. They cheered and then burst into laughter. Occasionally, a few glances would fall upon the stranger, as if they had known each other before.

Now, as the number of visitors increases, those pure glances and emotions have become a tourism product that requires no training. It comes naturally, like the wind blowing across the hillside.

Jun led us to the grassy hill. A stone path unfolded silently beneath our feet, the crunch of the pebbles audible with every step. "That's the militia road," Jun said in a steady voice. The story of the militia helping the villagers build the road was recounted simply yet emotionally.

At the end of the road, a grassy hill rose up amidst the crumbling rocks, verdant and distant. “Around the hill, there are many purple crape myrtle trees, plus cherry blossoms; it will be beautiful in a few years,” Jun said excitedly. The hill nestled on the slopes of Mount Kiet Cang, offering a panoramic view of the mountainous regions of Tra Linh and Tra Nam (formerly). On some days, clouds carried by the wind gently misted the trees.

Mo Ham Hill is nestled amidst lush green forests and mountains. Photo: THIEN TUNG

A few camping tents had been set up here and there. They arranged tables and chairs, gathered firewood to roast corn and potatoes, and then ran and played on the hillside. "Some people like it this way, but others go out to the meadows in the afternoon to enjoy the breeze and then sleep in the village at night. The villagers cook, brew rice wine, and earn some extra money," Jun shared.

As night fell, the adults returned from the fields, the children stopped playing, and the village gradually filled up. They piled firewood in the courtyard, while other groups busied themselves grilling chicken and pouring wine to offer guests. As the moon rose, the sound of gongs and drums echoed amidst the rhythmic footsteps, dispelling the silence of the ancient forest.

We arrived in Tak Pang one afternoon without a plan. And then we realized, this is a place where you don't need a plan. Just your feet and a little curiosity are enough to wander around all day without wanting to stop.

Source: https://baodanang.vn/lang-rong-choi-tak-pang-3334783.html