Bhutan, Land of the Thunder Dragon

Mt. Everest

Goodbye traffic, smog, masses of humanity! My plane flew near Mt. Everest, which marked the transition into another way of life. There are only 700,000 people in this whole mountainous country. Crisp air, misty mountains, prayer flags, and brown and white painted houses created a magical backdrop. Only one airline, Druk Air, flies into Bhutan, and they only have a few airplanes in their fleet. The beautiful airport had the fastest customs line ever...only one person ahead of me in line. And my bag was there lickity-split. All processed and a bathroom break in under ten minutes. Then, my driver and guide, both dressed in traditional clothing called ghos, whisked me on my private adventure. Yes, Bhutan requires visitors to have a registered guide to escort you through their country. A fee is paid for each day in Bhutan, yet it covers everything. Still, it adds up so I had to choose a very short glimpse of Bhutan as my tour. My tour was arranged by Phuentshok Tours and Treks, which I highly recommend.


Holy Water doesn’t make you sick


My guide took me to a few temples where monks poured holy water into my hands, and the idea is to take a sip and then pour the rest over your head. I tried to make a sipping noise but the problem is that you can’t do that without inhaling a little water. Of course, I had not been weaned off of bottled water, so I created elaborate nightmares in my head about what could happen if the water had any bacteria, parasites, viruses, pesticides, or other unpleasant critters that would startle my GI system. This happened three times. I don’t know what the monks do with it but I am delighted to say that holy water is pure! (Disclaimer: everyone has a different system. I happen to have the nickname “iron-gut Sammy,” so maybe that explains it.)

the highlight of my trip was hiking up to the Tiger’s Nest Monastery (Taktshang Goemba). Legend has it that Guru Rinpoche flew a flaming tigress to the spot where he was supposed to build his monastery, which happened to be conveniently located on the side of a sheer cliff 900 meters up. The hike was estimated to be two hours. After two minutes, I began to doubt that I would make it in that amount of time. I was winded already. I didn’t think I was having trouble adjusting to the altitude because walking level was not a problem. Once we started ascending, it was a different and heavy breathing, sweaty story. My guide was patient and reiterated that there was no hurry, which I heard but chose to ignore and trudge onward, albeit at an injured snail’s pace. Where was my flying tigress? It was a beautiful hike and only two or three other groups were walking that morning when we were.

Near the Tiger’s Nest, prayer flags fluttered, creating bridges through the sky, and ice began to cascade down a half-frozen waterfall emitting a roar that I imagined to be the tigress, reminding me of where I was and announcing that she had not gone away. I heard monks chanting and the blasts of their horns, which was the call of the thunder dragon. Anyone who visits Bhutan, this is not a sight to be missed. On the way down, my breath was there waiting for me.