It was one of those dreamy afternoons when time takes a break. There was nothing to do but sit out on faded red Nilkamal chairs at the local chai shop and talk big small talk…
We were in the middle of a healthy mid afternoon flight of fantasy – taking off to Bhutan and then traveling by road to the rest of the world, teaching English to the locals. Not the best plan, yes…but like the ancient adage says: “When perched on Nilkamal chairs, the best thing is to abandon all reason”.
With abandon we proceeded.
And got Nowhere.
Which was fine by us…But what with the Universe conspiring to make you achieve the pointless… in less then a month after we had the Teach-Locals-English-Fund-World-Tour conversation, we were actually taking off to Bhutan. Just like that…
From chai shop in the sunlight to the Land of the Thunder Dragon, hidden among the mountains, known to be one of the most isolated nations in the world in less than 30 days… in financial dire straits… to an unknown country…in the middle of a cruel winter.
That's one of the best things about being broke…you have no choice but to be fearless.
The Great Indian railway was the chosen mode of transport – to cut across the country in Gandhi class - across the land on rail, chugging along rivers and states…
12-noon reading a book on the topmost berth…
8 pm squatting on the door, watching villages flash past…
3 am in a compartment, freezing to death…
7 days later. Here I was, crossing the border town into Druk-land and my city blood conditioned to the loud and crass - just died in my veins.
It’s a Royal kingdom in every sense of the word – upright, charmingly simple. There is a stillness abound – like a gong for prayer has just been sounded. Surrounded by mountains with shining snow and large colorful monasteries rising at the skyline. Gently elegant/proud but friendly – Bhutan is like the Mountains that surround it.
Every structure - from hotels to theatre halls, homes and shops lining the streets have dragons and Buddhist motifs staring at you from the stark-white wood-lined walls. Lines and lines of vibrant prayer flags pepper the mountainous roads, chanting in the cold wind…
And here comes the reccos - useful if you want some random insights :)
If you’re an Indian citizen, all you need is a driver’s license to a permit to visit Bhutan. One of the many perks of the (debated) Aryan lineage! And make sure you carry your permit with you wherever you go. They check it. Everywhere.
To get a whiff of that untouched – get your hands on the ‘weekly’ newspaper. It has news about India. Only. Nothing much else happens to report. No robberies, no bomb blasts, no page 3 idiots, random coups and pointless editorials. Refreshing!
And beat this – there are no traffic signs in the Capital city. Just that occasional Lamborghini or a Land Rover driven by a Bhutanese who thinks its no big deal.
Try the alcohol – its dirt cheap and fantastic. ‘Apple cider’ spiked with rum, ‘Hit beer’ is high on my list ;)
Check out the Dzongs, they are fortified monasteries that used to house warrior monks. Make sure you get a special permit to visit them… making bambi eyes at the guards doesn’t work. I tried. And failed.
The brilliant blue skies makes for excellent photography.
Drink Hit beer and don’t move much. Soak it all in. Then move on…to another spot.
The Thunder Dragon likes you to take it easy.
