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This is the first of a series of blog posts regarding my trip to Bhutan, a landlocked, little-visited country in Asia. The Bhutanese name for the country translates to “Land of the Thunder Dragon”. It was truly an awesome experience to visit the country, thanks to its unique culture and beautiful landscapes.
FRIDAY, September 14th
I had a pretty rough start to my vacation though. I had been jogging the previous evening through a forest, and got stung by a bee on my left wrist. Fortunately I’m not allergic, but it was still painful. Packing everything and carrying my suitcases around, I obviously couldn’t avoid using my left hand. So the swelling became gradually worse.
I took this picture of my swollen wrist and forearm in my hotel room in Delhi later that day.
The departure from Zurich was somewhat delayed, roughly 20-30 minutes, due to connecting passengers arriving in Zurich on other flights. The lunch meal service began about an hour after our flight left towards Delhi. I spent most of the flight just reading my Lonely Planet guide about Bhutan. I was expecting dinner as well, with an arrival time scheduled just before midnight locally. Indeed, there was a second “meal” service. However, this was no more than a snack-sized roll and a tiny container of ice cream. Nothing resembling an actual meal.
By the time we approached Delhi, the redness from the bee sting had spread to almost half of the underside of my forearm, with mild swelling too. This might sound alarming and it did look concerning, but it was not. Essentially the bee venom probably got injected right into or around the muscle. As I used the arm throughout the day, it spread throughout the muscle. I’m no medical expert, but that was the conclusion I drew. I had plenty of medicines and antibiotic ointments with me in my luggage. I figured I’d apply that once I arrived at my hotel. The plan was certainly not to miss my connecting flight to Bhutan the next morning. I would only go to a Delhi hospital if it was absolutely necessary. Later on during the trip, after about a week, the swelling and redness had gone away anyway.
After our late night arrival, I cleared immigration into India, as I would be spending the night in Delhi at an airport hotel. The process through immigration was relatively painless and smooth. After presenting my confirmation number of my e-visa, my passport was stamped, my photo was taken and my fingerprints were scanned. Then, off I went.
I first pondered getting something to eat at the airport. However, there weren’t any good options for that, so I decided to go to my hotel. I needed some Indian rupees cash, but the ATMs at the airport didn’t work. There was no other option but to withdraw cash via one of the currency exchange offices. To make matters worse, they wouldn’t accept my Maestro debit card. The cash withdrawal had to be done on one of my credit cards, which made it expensive in terms of fees.
It was too late at night to use the metro towards the hotel, so I needed a taxi. Anywhere in Delhi, but particularly at the airport, there’s a ton of taxi scams. To alleviate this, there’s an official taxi service. You pay your fare at a rundown shack in front of the terminal. You receive a voucher, which you have to give your driver. After I had paid, someone waiting next to the shack grabbed one of my bags. Before I could react, he pulled it out to one of the taxis. I assumed he was the next driver waiting in line. Nope. It was just someone hauling bags for about 20 meters (60 feet), and expecting a tip for it!
First of all, I don’t tip people who force their services on me. I don’t care what the circumstances are. I will not pay someone for grabbing (stealing even?) my bags without my consent. There’s also zero chance I will pay someone any tip for displacing my bags no more than 20 meters, without making it clear that was your only job. There’s a handful of reasons why I don’t give any money to beggars. I could write an entire blog post on what those reasons are and why.
Eventually, I found myself together with all my luggage in front of a beat up, old Chinese-designed minivan. The advantage of Delhi Airport’s taxi vouchers is that you don’t pay the driver any cash. This means there’s no argument over the fixed price. However, I had heard stories about people being driven to a different hotel than intended, because their hotel was “fully booked” and “this one is better”. Obviously, the driver would get a commission from the “new” hotel. Because these people had already given their vouchers to the driver, the taxi driver would claim he had done his duty. Either the drivers dropped the passengers off or demanded more money for taking them to their booked hotel. Because of this, I was hesitant to hand over my voucher until we had arrived at the hotel.
Fortunately the taxi driver didn’t speak any English. This is usually a disadvantage, but it meant that he wasn’t going to use any tricks. He couldn’t make up an excuse for not taking me to my hotel, in a language I’d understand.
Eventually I arrived at 1:30 AM, tired and starving, at the Aloft New Delhi Aerocity, which I had booked for one night.
The hotel’s restaurant had closed, but in-room dining was offered 24/7. On one hand I needed to go to sleep, but I hadn’t really had any dinner. I ordered two sandwiches from the room service menu. I thought it was just going to be two sandwiches with some fries on the side. It turned out to be two full meals including all the sides. Whoops. Too much food for me, and I had to throw some of it away afterwards. There was no space in the minibar for it. I didn’t like the idea of leaving it on the table overnight and then eating the rest for breakfast.
Thanks to a combination of jet lag and the food, I couldn’t sleep. Delhi is 3.5 hours ahead of Switzerland, so it took quite a while before I fell asleep.
SATURDAY, September 15th
I woke up, after barely sleeping for four hours. At least the morning was relaxed. Breakfast was included in my stay. The hotel’s breakfast buffet had a good mix of Indian cuisine and international food.
Incase you’re wondering, that is indeed a cup of tea, not coffee.
I checked out and took the more expensive hotel transfer to the airport, to save time. At the airport, I checked in to the flight to Paro, Bhutan as one of last passengers. It was not possible to book seats in advance. Unfortunately, I was assigned an aisle seat. I always try to get a window seat. I wanted one particularly for the spectacular approach into Paro. Oh well.
The Drukair aircraft arrived over 45 minutes late at the gate in Delhi, which caused a late departure. However, I had nothing much scheduled for that day anyway, so that wasn’t a big deal. Because Bhutan is northeast of India, the flight from Delhi to Paro flies parallel to Nepal along the Himalayas Mountains. The captain made an announcement a few minutes before we were flying past Mt. Everest.
Usually passengers don’t pay much attention to the PA announcements, but not this time. Everyone started moving around the cabin to get on the left side for pictures. Everyone already seated on the left side took their pictures, then got up and let everyone else have a chance. It was quite a cool experience. I’ve never seen so many people moving around an aircraft cabin in flight.
Eventually we arrived in Paro, still a bit behind schedule. Although I was seated in the aisle, I still could sense that it was a thrilling zig-zag descent through the mountain valleys to the airport in Paro. It was however difficult to get a good video of it.
Paro isn’t the capital of Bhutan, but it was the most convenient place for building an international airport when Bhutan opened up for tourism in the 1980s. The Indian military had already constructed an airstrip here in the late 60s, per an agreement with Bhutan. Creating an airport in Thimphu, the capital, would have necessitated demolishing buildings and displacing hundreds, if not thousands of residents. Doing so was unacceptable according to Bhutanese culture. The airport in Paro was expanded, and now serves as Bhutan’s only international airport.
The control tower in Paro, with a picture of Bhutan’s current and former kings underneath.
Because so much of the country is mountainous terrain, there wasn’t any better location to place the airport. There are hills at either end of the single runway, both about 800m (~2,500 feet) from the runway threshold. At most international airports, planes approach to land by flying in a straight line for 15 kilometers (10 miles) or even longer. They fly a steady descent path, often controlled by the autopilot, guided by signals from instruments on the ground or satellites. This is not possible in Paro.
The approach has to be flown manually by the pilots themselves, descending on a winding path through the mountain valley. A late turn around the nearby hilltops finally lines the plane up with the runway, just five seconds before landing. This is unheard of, and notoriously difficult, because there’s essentially no margin for error. The pilots are relying on visual cues, such as villages or specific temples throughout the valley, to determine whether they are positioned correctly. They obviously will know that they are flying through the right valley, but they also have to fly at the correct altitude. This is where it gets really tricky.
The pilots lose sight of the airport throughout most of the approach, and only see it again about 15-20 seconds before touching down. Because Paro is one of the most difficult approaches in the world, pilots need specific training. Only about a dozen pilots are certified to land in Paro, according several sources online. Whether this still holds true, I can’t say.
Because of the many connections that state-owned Drukair and private Bhutan Airlines are offering, it would mean that they are often flying with only one of two pilots in the cockpit being certified to fly the manual approach to land in Paro. The other pilot would then be monitoring instruments and communicating with air traffic controllers. Usually airlines rotate these duties between their two crew members, but here it would already be predetermined who’s flying.
After deplaning, I needed to pass immigration into Bhutan and get my visa stamp. Then I was greeted by my guide and our driver, both of whom would be with me throughout the two weeks. I had arranged a private tour, so it was just the three of us. It’s a requirement for foreign visitors to Bhutan, except Indians, to be accompanied by a guide throughout your travels.
We drove for about 10 minutes to the hotel I would be staying at for two nights.
After I had placed my baggage in my room, we discussed the overall itinerary for the trip, particularly for the next days. Having done that, my guide and our driver left to go to downtown Paro. They were staying in a separate, cheaper hotel. Although you need to have a guide, and if necessary, a driver to accompany you throughout Bhutan, that doesn’t mean you can’t leave the hotel without them. The main reason for the compulsory guide is to ensure that Bhutan’s nature and culture is respected. To enter sights of any kind, particularly temples, the guide has to be with you. However, simply going for a walk is always possible.
My hotel, the Tashi Namgay Resort, was situated just across the river that runs through the Paro Valley, parallel to the runway at the airport. The picture above was taken from just outside my hotel room.
I walked along the main road behind the hotel for a bit.
A bird sitting on a fence at the entrance to the hotel.
There are several points along the road behind the hotel, that offer great views of the airport and the valley.
The sun was setting by the time I was out walking, so I didn’t stay out for too long.
A small chorten, or shrine, at the hotel’s entrance.
I had dinner at the hotel at its buffet. This would become the norm at most places we stayed at throughout Bhutan. After dinner, I went back to my room to relax a bit before going to bed.
Picturesque decorations around the staircase that leads from the dining area to the reception.
SUNDAY, September 16th
Woke up, showered, then had breakfast at the hotel’s breakfast buffet. Following this, I met with the guide and our driver in the hotel’s reception. We drove up a hill east of Paro to the Paro Ta Dzong. A “ta dzong” is the watchtower for the dzong below it. Dzongs are some of the most important buildings in Bhutan. The name translates to mean something like “temple fortress”. Every single one of Bhutan’s provinces (Dzongkhags) are ruled from a dzong. Each dzong has a separate wing for administrative offices and for the local Buddhist monastic orders. Most dzongs also have a central tower, as well as a large courtyard. Bhutan is divided into 20 Dzongkhags. However, there are a few more dzongs than that, because some have been abandoned or were damaged.
The Paro Ta Dzong watchtower was damaged by an earthquake in 2011. Restoration was still ongoing when I visited. Before the earthquake it housed Bhutan’s National Museum. Some of the exhibits of the National Museum were temporarily placed in an adjacent annex.
Photos were not allowed inside the museum’s annex, but the exhibits covered Bhutanese culture, nature, wildlife and history. One of the most interesting parts was a single room showcasing masks used by monks while performing traditional dances at religious festivals. Many of these are used throughout Bhutan, but there are some masks that are specific to certain regions. The history of the Bhutanese royal family was also explained in some detail. The long list of animals, some of them presented in a stuffed-out form, found across Bhutan was also quite interesting. One of Bhutan’s most precious animals is the black-necked crane. This crane is an endangered species that breeds only in areas in Bhutan and Tibet. We were going to visit one of the largest breeding areas for the black-necked crane later during the two-week trip.
After visiting the museum annex and seeing the watchtower from the outside, we walked downhill to the Paro Dzong itself. However, before doing so, we took a moment to admire the fabulous views of the valley from the hilltop.
To get to the dzong, the large structure in the lower right corner on the picture above, we walked along a dirt trail, passing some farmhouses. On the roof of one of them, chilis were being dried in the sun.
It was common to see this throughout Bhutan, as chilis are an integral part of the local cuisine.
While we had visited the Ta Dzong, our driver, Tandin, had moved the car down to the parking lot in front of the Paro Dzong. This proved useful, as my guide needed to get his traditional Bhutanese kabney to enter the dzong. Both my guide and our driver always wore a gho, a traditional Bhutanese dress for men. The kabney is a long scarf worn around one shoulder. When Bhutanese men want to enter temples or dzongs (temple-fortresses), they need to wear the gho with a kabney, as a sign of respect. For foreigners, the dress code is different, but modest clothing is certainly appreciated.
We went inside the dzong to tour the building. The entrance hallway was covered in colorful Buddhist murals.
As we entered the front courtyard, it became apparent that a local festival was ongoing. This first of all meant that it wasn’t possible to enter the dzong’s temple. It was used by the monks while they weren’t dancing.
The main reason I traveled to Bhutan around September was because it’s a busy period for the Buddhist festivals. Several of these were on the tour itinerary, but the one here in the Paro Dzong was a pleasant surprise.
We stayed for a few hours to witness the dances. The festival was held inside the dzong’s rear courtyard, and it was a very intimate setting. There were no barriers or fences, and there was only one or two rows of spectators in front of us.
The dancers were just within a few meters of us, close enough to almost touch them. There were several different dances performed.
Monks from the local monastic order perform all of the dances. The religious festivals are actually meant to be both educational, and a celebration at the same time.
Every single one of the dances tell stories from Bhutanese Buddhist beliefs, particularly dealing with the afterlife. Attending the festivals is considered good karma, so they are popular with the locals.
Because the dances apply to different tales, the monks have to adapt their costumes, and change to a different headgear or mask. They change inside the temple itself. During the breaks between dances, usually a group of local women volunteers perform a song or dance of their own.
The dances would continue into the afternoon, but according to my guide, the most exciting dances had already been performed.
We left the dzong and walked across an old wooden bridge below it, towards the outskirts of town.
We drove to downtown Paro for lunch. This was the first meal outside of the hotel in Bhutan. As with almost all other restaurants, there was a separate dining room for guides and drivers. I was eating by myself.
After we were all done eating, we walked around downtown Paro. There’s not a lot to see. The small town centre is pretty much just two parallel streets lined with buildings.
Some villages and clusters of buildings around the Valley are also sometimes considered part of Paro. Because it was a Sunday, the weekend market was active, so we headed towards it.
The weekend market is a place for farmers from around the Paro Valley to come to the town centre, to sell their fresh food products. The only city in Bhutan that has a Western-style supermarket is the capital Thimphu. In the smaller cities and remote towns, the markets are where local residents buy their groceries.
Several vendors were selling betel nuts, a special nut that comes wrapped in betel leaves. The nut releases stimulants, but chewing it is terrible for your mouth and makes your teeth decay. Regular use of betel nut also leads to an increased risk of cancer.
The betel nuts are in the dark purple bags in the center.
The sale and use of betel nuts is legal and has been a tradition for centuries. It’s being discouraged by the government via health campaigns, because of its negative health effects.
The market wasn’t all about edible items either, there were also several sellers of incense sticks at the weekend market.
Next on the itinerary was a visit to an ancient temple. However, my guide knew this was closed on short notice due to a local election. Instead, we drove southwest of Paro to hike to a monastery.
On the way we stopped two different times for photos of the airport from the nearby hills. I was hoping to see some aircraft movements. Paro definitely isn’t the busiest airport in the world, so no luck.
We drove close to the Dzongdrakha Monastery, which is perched on the side of a cliff. This meant that we had to hike the rest of the way. Paro itself is already about 2,300m(~7,500ft) above sea level. Because I had only spent one day in Bhutan thus far, I was definitely feeling the high elevation as we hiked further uphill.
On the way towards Dzongdrakha, we passed several different locals making sweet corn.
To make sweet corn, first they fry the corn in a pan, then place all of them inside a hollow tree trunk. The corn are then smashed with large wooden poles. The crushed corn taste quite sweet, hence the name. Sweet corn is a popular candy in Bhutan.
Dzongdrakha Monastery is sometimes referred to as a “mini Tiger’s Nest”, in reference to a much larger temple that is placed in a similar cliffside setting, drawing thousands of visitors. I was going to visit the actual Tiger’s Nest on my last day in Bhutan.
The monastery itself turned out to be closed. We concluded that the caretaker was probably at the Paro Dzong for the festival. Ugyen, my guide, still walked around the temple once to spin its prayer wheels.
After having seen the complex without entering any of the buildings, we took a moment to enjoy the nice views of the southern part of Paro Valley.
Then we hiked back down, met up with our driver, and drove back to the Tashi Namgay Resort. I had dinner at the hotel’s buffet, and used the hotel’s WiFi to upload a few pictures on social media, before going to bed.
The next stop on the trip through Bhutan was Thimphu. To read the blog post about my days in the Bhutanese capital, click here.