When Hans-Peter first visited Sa Pa in 1992, the mountain town had not yet become a tourism hub. Roads were largely unpaved, and the 200-kilometer trip from Lai Chau took around 10 hours, passing through remote villages and vast stretches of quiet highland countryside.
The terraced rice fields of Sa Pa in the days when tourism was still limited.
In 1992, the town had no resorts, and foreign visitors who wished to come here were required to obtain a special permit from authorities in Hanoi.
Looking back on his first journey to Sa Pa, Hans-Peter recalled spending nearly two hours at a police station with his guide because the passport number on their permit had been recorded incorrectly.
He stayed in a renovated French colonial villa that had been converted into a guesthouse, the only accommodation available in Sa Pa at the time.
From the balcony, he enjoyed sweeping views of the surrounding mountains and forests. Yet the experience he remembers most vividly was sharing his room with unexpected nighttime visitors: bats and rats.
In Hans-Peter's memory, Sa Pa's weekend market in 1992 was more than a place to trade goods — it was a vibrant cultural gathering for the region's communities.
Before dawn, members of the Hmong, Thai and Dao ethnic groups would set out from remote villages, walking up to 40 kilometers to reach the center of Sa Pa.
Hans-Peter said that he and another French traveler were among the few foreign visitors at the highland market. Their presence attracted curious and cautious attention from local residents, many of whom were not accustomed to seeing Western tourists in the area.
Hmong villagers gathered for breakfast at the highland market, creating a scene that left a strong impression on the German traveler.
Hans-Peter was fascinated by the handcrafted indigo-dyed clothing, the women's large silver earrings, the custom of shaving the eyebrows, and the striking red headscarves worn by Dao women.
"At that time, many people were afraid of cameras," Hans-Peter recalled.
"When I raised my camera to take a photo, they would often hide or run away."
By day, the market was a bustling trading hub but by night, it transformed into the famous Sa Pa love market.
Hans-Peter said he could never forget the vibrant atmosphere on weekend evenings, when young men and women courted one another through call-and-response love songs that echoed across the town.
"My biggest regret is that I didn't bring my recording and filming equipment," he said.
By 1993, Vietnam had officially abolished the requirement for special permits for foreign tourists, and Sa Pa began welcoming its first organized groups of visitors.
Hans-Peter recalled that during a flight from Germany to Hanoi that year, he encouraged French passengers to include Sa Pa in their travel plans.
At the time, the mountain town had only a handful of accommodations, with capacity for roughly 30 to 40 guests. As tourism slowly emerged, local residents began bringing their traditional clothing and handmade silver jewelry to the central market to sell to the small number of foreign visitors.
More than three decades later, Sa Pa has transformed into one of Vietnam's best-known tourist destinations and secured a place on the international travel map. The once-quiet mountain town is now home to hundreds of hotels and resorts nestled across the highlands.
Hans-Peter, who has not had the opportunity to return to Sa Pa for more than 30 years, says he prefers to hold on to his memories of a town embraced by majestic forests, terraced mountains and vibrant local markets filled with color and tradition.
