Nostalgic Thung Nham

Thung Nham, every time I come here, I recall the familiar traces and memories that have been imprinted in my mind. The marina area and the old

Thung Nham, every time I come here, I recall the familiar traces and memories that have been imprinted in my mind. The marina area and the old cassava plantations of my village cooperative members seem to be here and there… From my village to Nham valley, we follow the waterway for about 6 kilometers, starting from Dinh wharf near Tam Coc Ninh Binh.

Cac – Van Lam, along a section of Ngo Dong river, carried the boat across the Se mountain dam to the Cai river, back through the Van bridge, went an arc between the two villages of Dam Khe Trong and Ngoai, around Dong Tien mountain, followed the area closely. Bich Dong Pagoda is about a kilometer, then go to the gate of Chua cave, go through the cave for another kilometer to reach Doi wharf. A vast marsh touched the land nestled in the middle of a mountain-surrounded valley.

The road from my village…

The road from my village to Nham valley about 5 km is only for the painters of the mountains, they have to climb over a few stilts along the steep rocky path, when I was a child I only heard about it, but never set foot on it. this way. In the midst of the wild mountain scenery, the human being in the valley is very small. Human strength persists over time and then also from dense wilderness into fields to cultivate for a living. People in my village are allocated an area of reclaimed land to grow cassava, we grew up partly thanks to Thung Nham cassava tubers.

In the season of September 1966, for the first time, I was accompanied by my parents from the time the cock crowed on the fourth watch, slept hard on the boat until early morning, when I arrived at Doi Wharf near Tam Coc Ninh Binh, my father carried me and waded through the mud from the boat to the shore easily. hundreds of steps. The sight of wild mountains and forests, sporadic boats docked, and the call to each other in the mist have somewhat alleviated the cold, gloomy atmosphere of the mountains.

My mother carried several pairs of baskets on her shoulders, in which were rice balls with sesame salt, pots and pans, knives, spades, old gourd shells for drinking water… all were fully prepared for a day on the hill. unload cassava. I followed my parents to my family’s cassava field, my father carried me up a big tree, he told me to drive away wild animals.

A few cassava fields nearby…

A few cassava fields nearby people called out to each other, they all caught on fire, the haystacks burned, the smoke of the fire rose up, the gurgling sound echoed, the loud knocking of the pot, the sound of stones. knocking on the hoe, the spade hit the cliff. My father pointed to the other side of the mountain and saw a streak of thatched grass rising like a wave of rice, then the leaves shook violently in a suction to the top of the mountain. My father said that running like that belongs to the tiger.

When the sun entered the valley, my father let me down and started chopping up the cassava roots with the handle of a knife, with an adult bicep, prying off the soil and putting it into each tissue. Mom looked at me sweating profusely, then narrowed her eyes and smiled encouragingly. Thung Nham near Tam Coc Ninh Binh once contained many stories between people and natural scenes, which are both thrilling and interesting stories, what I know from stories told and more or less experienced. The experience has not been forgotten until now.

​To learn more about Tam Coc Ninh Binh, please contact with!

Mục nhập này đã được đăng trong News. Đánh dấu trang permalink.

Trả lời

Email của bạn sẽ không được hiển thị công khai. Các trường bắt buộc được đánh dấu *

Gọi điện cho tôi Chat Zalo Chat WhatApp
Gọi ngay Zalo WhatApp