Bhutan: A sarcastic tale of exploring a Himalayan Gem

We landed in Kolkata at around 9 and after having a ridiculously expensive airport breakfast, we took a cab and began our exploration of Kolkata. From the Eden Garden cricket stadium to Howrah bridge to Howrah railway station, which is a tourist destination unto itself we took it all in like the awestruck tourists we were. It was the first time for most of us in the city, and for the ones who had been here before it was still an interesting experience.

I always found Kolkata to be a city of contrasts. Massive parks and Victorian-era buildings surrounded by posh areas with tiny streets and slums with what could be charitably called gully access. A city that's both grey in places and amazing colourful in others. Traffic that is chaotic enough to make a Bangalorean feel right at home, yet a strict adherence to not crossing the white line at a traffic signal. I'm told this is because of a very strict traffic police force which I find commendable. Also, unlike the traffic I'm used to back home, here it actually moves. It's the only city in India with a functioning tram system, which practically nobody uses primarily because it's old, unmaintained and so slow it'll struggle to keep up with you on a romantic stroll. It is also the city with some of the best food in the country!!

Howrah station is a monster by itself. With 22 platforms it's India's largest railway station and the complex is huge. After a long struggle to find the cloakroom and deposit our bags, we wanted to have lunch and then explore the area on foot in the midday June heat. It was decided we will definitely try some authentic Bengali food to test our culinary palate and ended up eating at a Pizza Hut instead. A walk on the famous Howrah bridge and a rickety ferry ride back across the Hooghly river later we were on the train and a step closer to getting to Bhutan.

Day 2: Bhutan finally!!

The drive through the tea gardens of West Bengal and the Dooars forest was beautiful. The road was good, traffic sparse and the landscape was a monsoon green. It's a landscape I find relaxing while the budding photographers of our group were busy trying to one-up each other taking pictures of every interesting tree, rock, person, car and hill and a few uninteresting ones as well, which proved to be challenging because we only had one camera.

After a hearty meal of Dosa and Chai, since we were stereotypical south Indians, we settled in to watch a cricket match, play cards and go through withdrawal symptoms caused by not being able to use our phones. We had only one Tashicell sim card for use in Bhutan, for emergency calls only. We were going to live like pre-2000 era savages without mobiles for a week. With that in mind, we called it a day and settled in for the first night in a foreign country and much to my horror, bed bugs.

Day 3: Thimphu here we come

While Indian nationals can enter Phuentsholing without any issues, a permit is required to visit Paro, the tourist hub and Thimphu, the capital. This can be obtained at the permit office near the border gate. The office is open only on weekdays so arriving at the border on Sunday and going to Thimphu on Monday was deemed ideal. Unfortunately, practically everyone who had come to Bhutan that week appears to have deemed this plan ideal, which led to immense rush at the permit office on Monday morning. After 3 hours of bureaucracy, that would make anyone who's dealt with an RTO or government office in India feel nostalgic, we got our permit and began our journey into Bhutan.

The roads in Bhutan are very well maintained but not for the faint of heart, or stomach. After a fight for seating position in the car we determine that the most stubborn and meanest got the windows while the more understanding, nicer folk got the backseat with the luggage, in an on the nose metaphor for life in general. I retained my window seat as usual. The area is prone to sudden fog and rain, during which it usually advisable to stop unless one wishes to test the flight capabilities of one's vehicle. If one does plan on coming in their own car ensure that there are at least 2 drivers per vehicle as it's a tiring journey. Each vehicle will also require a permit.

After an evening of exploring Thimphu on foot, it was discovered that most of the city basically shuts down after sunset, as does most of Bhutan in general. So with shopping thankfully, gloriously, stupendously out of the question, we ate at an Indian meal cause we at that point we were desperate for food, expanding culinary pallet be damned. With the plan of shopping the next day on top priority before doing anything else, yes it’ll definitely happen, we called it a night.

Day 4: Thimphu

Mornings in the Himalayas are almost mystic. The chill air, the silence except for birds chirping, the mind-numbingly beautiful views, the coffee. It's all out of a Disney movie and yet real, afar cry from the dust, smog, froth, sweat, noise and not to mention 2.5 swear words per second you hear, see, feel and breath in the early morning traffic in any Indian city. It's something one should experience at least once, or multiple times, per year, at least.

The main market in Thimphu is apparently closed on Tuesdays. As already established the universe does really hate us. This little bit of information left us dramatically moping around in a surprisingly quaint and beautiful cafe in the capital, soothing our sorrows the only way we knew how at 8 in the morning. Food, hot coffee and even more photos. Since we now had the day to ourselves we decided to explore Thimphu. Thus in a remarkably good mood for a group whose primary means of acquiring pointless trinkets and clothes that'll never be used for ourselves and a bunch of ingrates we call friends and family, was severely restricted, we began our tour of Thimphu. A fact I was secretly celebrating cause I absolutely hate shopping.

It was here we meet a rather interesting group from India. We noticed them taking pictures of us using high-end DSLR cameras. The more shy, logical ones in the group questioned their motives while the more extroverted brain-dead idiots tried to get them to take more photos. After a rabid fight of 'my pic next', we discovered that this was a group of amateur photographers from all over India. They ran a Facebook group that met up on occasion to head to exotic locations and hone their craft. After realizing that their Skills and equipment were way above ours we elected to be their subjects for the day.

After messing around at the statue for a few hours we headed to a small animal reserve on our way back down to the city. It was here we came face to face with Bhutan's national animal, the Takin. It's a rather unusual animal that looks like the result of a DNA splicing experiment of a goat and an ox. It's apparently a very rare animal which would probably explain why it looks so alien to us tourists. It was a long walk around the entire park, but we were a young, healthy and jobless group so we decided to complete it. After sighting a few animals and fewer tourists we finally headed back to Thimphu.

After having an Indian lunch because we realized Ema Datshi, the traditional chilli and cheese dish, wasn't really to our taste we paid the restaurant and headed back home. In most places in Bhutan is accepted. Expected would actually be a better word for what actually happens. Apparently, this is useful for the locals when they buy goods from India. While it is easy to get the local currency called the Ngultrum, converting it back to Rupees isn't as easy. Also, a lot of places don't accept notes of 500 or higher denominations as they're afraid of counterfeits. While there are ATMs and POS machines in shops these aren't all that wide-spread. Also, be ready to be it with a high transaction fee if you do use your card cause banks be evil. After paying for the meal we headed back into Thimphu.

We didn't have anywhere particular in mind so we just went with what with the driver recommended. This started with a Dzong of course. We arrived in time for a prayer ceremony which was an interesting experience. It involved a lot of chanting and incense like a lot of Hindu rituals but seemed a lot less frenetic. We stayed for a while before moving on. We also lost a pair of sunglasses here, the first of many such loses.

The next stop was a traditional artisan school which took us a while to find. It is schools like this that show what is wrong with the world. These people study their desired art for years with unwavering dedication only to have to peddle their wares in gift and novelty shops. While IT monkeys like me get a good salary, comfortable living and a heart attack early in life.

There were people carving intricate designs into wood and others printing exquisite patterns on cloth. We were allowed to stand and watch them which was weird, to say the least. It was a weird experience since the students were basically practicing their lessons while we just stood among them. This seemed to be particularly distracting to the people in the painting classes.

We saw few more sights including a park and the local football stadium. Apparently, Bhutan is football crazy and had an important match coming up the next day. While we initially toyed with the idea of buying tickets for the match we decided against it. We did end up watching a little of the match the next day on TV at a restaurant though I don't quite recall who won.

The day ended with a little grocery shopping where we discovered that a lot of the products you get in Bhutan are just re-branded Indian products. This is especially true with food and beverages where you can see the Indian companies name embossed on the bottles even though it has a Bhutanese label.

A long, partially alcohol-fueled discussion at night about the various topics that haunt us ensued before bed. These included past loves, present loves. arranged vs love marriage, work, college days and what is body scrub and why does it cost so much. After a lot of heated arguments and tears about the various topics, except the body scrub for some reason, we came to the inspired conclusion that all our lives are miserable while sitting in a hotel room, in a foreign country, in the Himalayas. We finally headed to bed late into the night after a surprisingly memorable discussion.

Day 5: Punakha and beyond

After checking out of our hotel and picking up yet another permit, we began on our way to Punakha. This permit allows you to visit a few areas beyond Thimphu and Paro and can be picked up from the customs office in Thimphu. This didn't take long thankfully. Punakha is about two and half hours of slow progress from the capital, with a few interesting sights along the way.

We also came across a large group of South Koreans. At least that's what the more excitable of our group claimed they were Koreans, the rest of us didn't really bother to take the matter further. While we did initially attempt to talk to them, all but the most enthusiastic of us gave up almost immediately and went for a much-needed coffee. The weather was cold and foggy and being outdoors didn't seem to be the best idea. A hot coffee or tea, even a mediocre one, in the middle of cold Himalayan pass is one of those things that will inspire poets to write about the heavens, it's good enough to inspire grand stories of spies fighting on the mountainsides or as in our case, inspire us to take pictures of the cup.

With no plan, other than to experience the white water rafting and if we had the time, visit the magnificent old Dzong here as well. The river rafting is split between 2 rivers, one with milder rapids referred to as the "Female river" by our guide and one with far more intense rapids called the "Male river". While the former is used mainly by novices to just for the experience, a group including us, the latter is considered far more advanced and is usually only traversed by visitors with some experience in whitewater rafting. While the starting point on each river is different, both of them end at the same place. The starting point of the female river is a few kilometres up the road from the Dzong, which is where we went.

We met the guide who'll actually join us on the raft and after negotiating what turned out to be a remarkably reasonable price for what turned out to be a 2 hour, 14-kilometre adventure, we coughed up the money. Our driver was to join us at the other end and we left most of our electronics and cash in the car and were given a plastic bag to protect whatever we were taking with us, which turned out to be the camera and 2 phones. After we were given a safety briefing that assured us that yes, it is safe. No, nobody will drown. Yes, we know drowning our patrons is not good for business. After we were reasonably convinced we boarded our raft and started on our little adventure.

The ride was unforgettable. The water was clean, cool and pristine. Almost glassy where the river was calm. The guide would tell us when to take the camera out and take photos and when to pack it all in and brace for rapids. It wasn't a fast journey, which was fine with us as we didn't want it to end. Also, with our uncoordinated flailing with the oars under the pretext of rowing, it was probably safer too.

We were regaled with the tragic tale of the Romeo and Juliet of Bhutan and the same tragedy with a Bhutanese twist. We took in all the beautiful scenery of the mountains and the occasional quaint house we passed, the sight of the new Taj hotel we would never be able to afford and finally the might Dzong with a bridge over the river. We were the muse for the multitude of people on the bridge to take photos of and we in return took photos of them. It really was one of the most interesting experiences of a very interesting trip.

The ride ended at the confluence of the male and female rivers, with a quick swim in icy water. After saying goodbye to our Nepali guide and promising him that his homeland would definitely be our next destination, we went to change. All of which would have been amazing except for the fact that there were no changing rooms. After much deliberation, we decided to suck it up and change near the car. The guys took turns change with the one towel we had while the girls took all the other towels and went to a secluded spot to change in peace. After this slightly awkward moment, we continued on to the Dzong.

It's the city with Bhutan's primary airport. So if you're one of the people rich enough to afford the ticket fare this is where you land. No fuss at the border or anything interesting like that. While you do get a quick entrance and exit to the country with a quick view of the Himalayas, it just doesn't have the sense of adventure that taking the road into the country has. So if you're rich or don't have the time, take the plane, if you're young, poor or just have the time and are willing to be thrown around a little, take a car.

The trek begins around 10 km from Paro town, in the forests to the north of the city. There's a parking area for cars and a little market that sell trinkets for travellers. I actually bought most of my souvenirs from here. One can also hire a donkey to take you halfway up the hill from here. There is a 300 rupee entry fee for the monastery on the top which needs be bought before starting the trek up. The tourist office at the start of the trek provides the same. Why the tickets need to be bought at the start of the trek and not at the monastery itself still eludes me, but then again the world works in mysterious ways.

After buying a bunch of trekking sticks more for show than actual purpose, we began the journey up. While most of us decided to trek all the way up, we had one weakling in the group who decided to go halfway up the hill on a donkey. It was sunny for the first part of the trek, though it was never hot. It wasn't a difficult trek but our progress was hampered by the fact that some of us had the same stamina level as a geriatric panda bear. After a lot of panting, whining and grumbling we reached the restaurant at the halfway point.

An overpriced snack and drink later we continued up the rest of the route in 3 groups. The 1st group were those who actually were fit enough to carry on comfortably, a group I thought I would be in but wasn't. The 2nd group were those who struggled a little but still managed to keep up a steady slow pace, a group I actually was in. The 3rd group were those who gave up midway and took a nap in the forest, a group I will soon be joining given how lazy and out of shape I've become. While we did wait for this group at a viewpoint, they apparently reached the monastery first, or so they claim. Maybe there was a rift in the space-time continuum.

The final stretch is a set of 300 odd steps down to a waterfall and then back up to the monastery. This was by far the most painful section as it messes up your knees and ankles. After the climb down, we had a photo stop at the waterfall. It was here we met an old couple slowly making their way back from the monastery. They would have easily been in their 70's and though they seemed to be struggling a little had managed to trek all the way up here, a fact that put us out of shape youngsters to shame. After a quick chat with them, we discovered they were from Andhra Pradesh, a fact highlighted by their joy in talking Telugu to those who spoke it in our group and had decided to travel a little and see the world after their retirement. After some encouraging words to us to finish the trek, which was a little embarrassing, to say the least, we continued on our way. Knowing that people even in their old age are still bitten by the travel bug is inspiring in its own little way.

Once we were at the top we had another photoshoot as well as a light drizzle which was very welcome. The views at the monastery and at the various viewpoints and the clean air up on the mountain make it a trek worth taking. It was never crowded and the serene vistas one sees from the top is enough to inspire the most divine paintings and poetry, or in our case, another photo shoot and this blog. We didn't enter the monastery as we didn't buy the tickets nor did we feel the need to either.

The trek back down was uneventful in comparison. The only highlight being meeting a group who had been split in 2 and didn't have the tickets to enter with them due to some confusion, stressing my point that having the ticket office at the start of the trek makes no sense. We trekked at a relaxed pace down the mountain while listening to music the whole way. We even broke out into the occasional song and dance routine, which unfortunately there's video proof of as we recorded it as well. Unfortunate because I can neither sing nor dance.

At the bottom, we bought a whole lot of souvenirs at the market as it was cheap and of decent quality. After confirming with friends that my gifts weren't too tacky we finally headed back to the taxi after we had exhausted all our money. We ended the day with the stroll through Paro for some more souvenirs and of course, another photo shoot.

Day 7: Heading back home

We came across an Indian Army canteen along the way. This was our first taste of south Indian food in a week and it was heavenly. We emotionally ordered practically everything on the menu. After eating way more than we usually do, which proved to be unwise since we were heading into a hilly section of road, we profusely thanked the cook and left a healthy tip as well.