The Himalayas, NepaL & Bhutan-Day 0

Tuesday, April 1, 2025 - Preliminaries

Bhutan and Nepal

Two countries separated by less than 40 miles of the Indian state of Sikkim, but oh so different. Nepal, birthplace of Siddhartha Gautama, The Buddha, is now predominantly Hindu, while Vajrayana Buddhism, a branch of Mahayana Buddhism, is the state religion in Bhutan, practiced by as much as 75% of the population.

There's an abundance of other differences but one major commonality, and it's a juggernaut - the Himalayas. The Himalayan mountain range is a formidable, 1500-mile barrier than sweeps across Asia from Afghanistan to China, separating the Tibetan plateau from the Indian subcontinent, and it's impossible to discuss Nepal and Bhutan without knowing a bit about the Himalayas and how they profoundly molded the beliefs, practices, and trajectories of these countries and their people.

The Himalayas

Stretching from the Hindu Kush and Karakoram mountain ranges in Pakistan and Afghanistan, itself a formidable barrier and watershed that includes more than 20 mountains greater than 23,000 feet above sea level, the Himalayas continues on for another 1500 miles and boasts well over 100 peaks more than 23,000 feet. The range continues through the disputed lands of Arunachal Pradesh, terminating at the foothills of the Brahmaputra River basin near the northwestern border of Myanmar.

The mountain system creates a drainage basin that is home to over 600 million people - over 50 million of whom live in the Himalayan mountains themselves.  North of the range lies the vast Tibetan plateau, highest and largest plateau on the planet, nearly a million square miles in area. To put that into perspective, the continental United States is just over 3 million square miles. 

The Himalayas, historically, have been a barrier to people and commerce, but the range is also a barrier to weather.  The 5-mile high barrier of the Himalayan range captures nearly all of the atmospheric moisture from the tropical latitudes, feeding massive glacier systems that are sometimes referred to as the Third Pole as they create the largest reservoir of fresh water outside of the polar regions. On the southern slopes and subtropical plains of the south, as much as 120 inches of precipitation falls, most of it as snow, whereas in the northern slopes that yield to the Tibetan plateau there’s an average of about 8 inches of annual precipitation, most of it as hail.

The Himalayan range is the result of tectonic forces as the upper crust of the Indian tectonic plate folds and is uplifted as it pushes north against the Eurasian plate.  The lower layers of the plates continue to push against each other and that contributes to the overall uplifting of the mountains as well as creating some devastating earthquakes in the area as those immense pressures are released.  In the past 100 years, there have been 4 earthquakes in the region that were greater than 8.0 on the Richter scale with the greatest recorded on April 15, 1950 - a staggering 8.6 according to the USGS. But the most deadly was the October 8, 2005 Kashmir earthquake, a 7.6, that killed nearly 90,000, injured another 100,000, destroyed over 30,000 buildings, and displaced millions of people.

So the setting for the states of Nepal and Bhutan is a mountainous region, prone to severe earthquakes, that experiences abundant rainfall. A bit of a mixed bag as a formula for growth and economic prosperity.  But the valleys and passes tucked away in the Himalayas also created natural barriers and routes for both trade and conquest. The steep valleys were also conducive to the creation of isolated kingdoms with no centralized government beyond one's valley and those enclaves needed protection.  And that, in turn, gave rise to the “dzong” - the fortress monasteries that served as both economic, administrative, and spiritual centers, as well as providing defense and early warning of invaders. So the dzongs, literally “fortified palace” in the Tibetan language, gave rise to the tradition of the “warrior monk” as people sought spiritual guidance and enlightenment while defending their way of life against intruders. It is these dzongs, more than anything else, that define the cultural heritages of Nepal and Bhutan and they are found throughout the Himalayas at strategic locations, designed to fulfill their purpose. 

The dzong system was so effective, that in 1874, when Great Britain dissolved the East India Company and its army of mercenaries that controlled trade in south and southeast Asia for centuries, the Brits imported Gurkas (Gorkas) from Nepal who were trained from an early age in the Nepalese warrior monk tradition.  The Gurkas, with a reputation as fierce and fearless warriors, helped Great Britain maintain control of India until August 15, 1947 when the world’s largest democracy gained independence.

Religion

As mentioned earlier, Siddhartha Gautama, The Buddha, the Awakened One, was born within the borders of current-day Nepal, and he spread his teachings through his travels in search of enlightenment. Today, the various branches of Buddhism have about 500 million followers, and it is the state religion of Bhutan.  For comparison, Christianity has about 2.3 billion followers; Islam, about 1.9 billion; and Hinduism, about 1.2 billion. 

Nepal, on the other hand, the birthplace of Buddhism, is now predominantly Hindu. There does not seem to be any clear reason for such a transition.  Some say it’s because of Nepal’s proximity to India, but that fails to explain why Bhutan, which, like Nepal, is surrounded by India on the west, south, and east (China marks the boundary on the north for both countries) is predominantly Buddhist.  It does seem though that the Rana regime, which seized power in 1846, may be the prime factor.  Jung Bahadur Rana staged a dramatic coup in September of 1846 that carried on for several days, culminating in the Kot massacre where many of the king and queen’s aides were killed by Rana’s army.  Later, Rana further consolidated his authoritarian rule at the Battle of Alau and King Rajendra was imprisoned in a palace in Bhaktapur.

The Rana regime established a hereditary ascendency to the throne and they remained in power until the Revolution of 1951 when a new constitution was adopted. During the time of the Rana reign though, specifically between 1926 and 1944, the regime banished many Buddhist monks for teaching Buddhism in an effort to squelch a Buddhist revival which they viewed as a threat to their authority.  That would certainly have a chilling effect on practicing Buddhism in Nepal, and it wasn’t that long ago.

Buddhism has a long history in Bhutan. Guru Rinpoche, also known as Guru Padmasambhava, is credited with bringing Buddhism to Bhutan in the 8th century, and it has been practiced uninterrupted since. Even Bhutan’s constitution, established in 2008, abolishing the absolute hereditary monarchy of the Wangchuck clan and establishing a constitutional monarchy, specifically recognizes Buddhism as the country’s spiritual heritage. And now, it is established as the national religion of the country.

Recent History - Nepal

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Recent History - Bhutan

Bhutan was unified into a single religious state by Shabdrung Ngawang Namgyel in 1616. It was a dual system of government led by a Chief Abbot, a Je Khenpo, and a secular ruler, a Desi. The system worked for over 300 years, but the land locked country remained isolated from the rest of the world.

Modern-day Bhutan started in 1907 when Gongsar Ugyen Wangchuck, armed with a vision to abolish the dual system of governance, and to establish a hereditary monarchy, the Wangchuck Dynasty, consolidated the clans in Bhutan and was proclaimed hereditary ruler and the first Druk Gyalpo (Dragon King) of Bhutan - the Land of the Thunder Dragon.  Some say the best form of government is that of a benevolent dictator and Ugyen seems to fit that role perfectly. He grew up in a time of strife in the country and was, himself, kidnapped by an enemy of his father in 1877 when he was 15.  His captors released him after his father, a local ruler in Punakha, threatened to kill family members of the kidnapper, Damcho Rinchen. In 1881, Ugyen’s father died, and he assumed many of his father’s responsibilities. Over the next few years, he proved himself to be a shrewd leader, reconciling with his father’s enemies when he could, vanquishing them when negotiations failed, suppressing dissent, and forging an arms length alliance with Great Britain.

By 1886, he had consolidated and made peace with most of the local rulers, but two of his trusted allies conspired against him and the result was the battle of Changlimethang. Ugyen was victorious and that marked the last armed civil conflict in the country - they have had none since. Ugyen was crowned as the first Druk Gyalpo the following year on December 17, 1887 - a national holiday still celebrated as the birthday of modern Bhutan.

Until Ugyen assumed control, Bhutan was largely isolated from the outside world, in large part because of its rugged terrain. But Ugyen was outward facing, valued education, and wanted to learn more about the world beyond the borders.  He traveled abroad, consulted with world leaders, and forged alliances without ever subjugating his people to those powers. In fact, Bhutan has never been colonized by any other nation - one of the few countries that can make that claim.

There have been 5 Dragon Kings in the Land of Thunder Dragon. Ugyen’s heirs carried on his philosophies, traditions, and goals for the future of Bhutan.

The First King of Bhutan – Sir Ugyen Wangchuck (Reign: 1907 to 1926). He is remembered as a visionary leader who set the stage for Bhutan's journey toward modernization while preserving its cultural heritage.

The Second King of Bhutan – Jigme Wangchuck (Reign: 1926 to 1952). He is remembered as a shrewd politician who extended his father's outward-looking vision while forging alliances with British India, which carried over when India gained its independence from Great Britain. His actions preserved unity and peace in the country while protecting it from external influences.

The Third King of Bhutan – Jigme Dorji Wangchuck (Reign: 1952 to 1972). Jigme ended feudalism throughout the country redistributed land, and established a modern judicial system. He set the foundation for transitioning Bhutan into a democracy. 

The Fourth King of Bhutan – Jigme Singye Wangchuck (Reign: 1972 to 2006). Jigne, educated in India and Great Britain,continued the work of his father, further moving the country towards a democracy by, among other things, establishing a Prime Minister. During his reign, Bhutan became more involved with the United Nations, education was prioritized, and he established Drukair, the country's national airline. Building an airline may not seem like a significant achievement, but it paved the way for high value, low volume, low impact tourism - a model that persists today. Jingme Singye also began marketing his country for tourism.  He established the country’s “Gross National Happiness” concept wherein the country does not blindly forge ahead with growth, but rather does so with a “mindfulness” that takes into consideration people’s overall happiness, not just GDP, and also respects the health of the planet.  Bhutan and Panama are recognized as the only two countries that have a negative carbon profile - they sequester more carbon than they create.  In 2006 he abdicated the throne to his son.

The Fifth King of Bhutan – Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck (Reign: 2006 to present). King Jegme Khesar was educated in the United States and in Great Britain. His education established the foundation to realize the wishes of his father in creating a democratic Bhutan. Revered by the Bhutanese, Jegme Khesar is referred to as the “People's King”.

But Bhutan's march into the 21st century did not come without stress nor strife. During the rule of King Jigme Singye, about 15% of Bhutan’s population, scores of thousands of people with Nepali heredity, were expelled from the country and many others left voluntarily. The purge was so impactful, the United Nations had to reduce their population estimates for Bhutan by as much as a third. Those expelled lost their land, and India, where most of the people were expelled to, provided no path to citizenship so they were, effectively, rendered stateless.  Some people find it ironic that the same King that promoted Gross National Happiness, also made many people very unhappy.  Although, I believe the King’s rebuttal would be that he was taking care of the Bhutanese people, and those expelled were not Bhutanese, they were Nepali.

Wednesday, April 2, 2025 - Departure

After a wait of nearly 6 months, departure day has arrived. It is always with a healthy amount of trepidation that I bring to a long haul journey. It's not that I have fears of flying, it's because of the surprises encountered at airports, at security checkpoints, on the plane, in the air, and at border security in other countries. 

This time it's exacerbated by a resurgence of unfriendliness towards Americans, the ugly Americans, largely due to recent world events and US government policy changes that are unpopular with many abroad - and several within as well. All it would take is an immigration officer with an axe to grind in Qatar, Nepal, or Bhutan to derail my plans. 

And on the topic of planning, at least thus far, Audley Travel has done a fantastic job making the arrangements for this journey. I've had some great and informative phone conversations with Jason at Audley and his first hand knowledge of Nepal and Bhutan has been indispensable. He even got me seated on the left side of the plane on Drukair for the flight from Kathmandu to Paro so I can get a panoramic view of the Himalayas if the weather is kind. But the proof is in the pudding as they say, and this pudding hasn't been served yet, but I am optimistic and I've encountered zero red flags.

First flight from Phoenix to Dallas is delayed. Par for the course.  I'll have less than 45 minutes, not including de-planeing, to catch the flight to Qatar. The good news is that it's in the same terminal so I should be able to make it. More good news - no middle seat - always welcome, regardless how long the flight.

I took advantage of my seat location, 23D, directly across from the lavatory, to conduct a little survey. During the 2-hour flight, 14 people used that lavatory and it was evenly split between men and women. Every one of the gentlemen closed the door when they left, but two-thirds of the women did NOT close the door, they just walked away leaving me to stare at the toilet - bad Feng Shui by the way as the toilet faced the door directly. What is that all about?! It was an easy fix, I was in the aisle seat and just reached across the aisle and closed it, but it should not have been necessary. Ladies, I'll make you a deal, be nice and close the lavatory door when you leave and I'll put the seat down before I leave. Otherwise, I really don't want to hear any whining about toilet seats.

Second flight from Dallas to Doha. After a sprint through the terminal, I arrived at the boarding gate and was immediately waved aboard. The kindly gate staff urged me to relax and catch my breath, which I did. I’d heard so much about Qatar Airlines high-quality service so I had high expectations when I got on board. Those expectations crumpled on the rocks of reality. They are old school, and that's not bad, but it just didn't work well. My seat was piled with a blanket, headphones, eye mask, socks, toothbrush, and a pillow. All nice touches, but me and my seatmates (no empty middle) struggled to get everything squeezed into the cramped space. 

The flight attendant came by with packaged “refreshing towels”, but I've used similar ones before and they leave fibers on my face stubble. Useless, except for wiping your hands maybe. And because of their old school, two-prong jack for headphones my fancy noise canceling ones wouldn't work - you had to use theirs or none. I opted for none. And yet, they had credit card readers at every seat to make it easy for you to buy additional goods or services. How convenient.

Qatar Airlines may very well have excellent accommodations and service in business class but their economy cabin was like every other economy cabin I've flown in - nothing special there, at all, well maybe except for the card readers, but for me, that feature doesn't rise to specialness. I think the 2-year old sitting in front of me wasn't real happy with Qatar's accommodations either and she let everyone within earshot know, repeatedly and intermittently, throughout the flight. Well, it's only 14 hours and 25 minutes.

12 hours in and I'm feeling like I've been jammed into a torpedo tube. There's no way to get and stay comfortable. Now I'm thinking I should've taken advantage of their offer to upgrade. The food has been okay, but not memorable, pretty much on par with everything else - mediocre.

Thursday, April 3, 2025 - Doha, Qatar

I wish I could say I visited Qatar, the small country that sets on a peninsula that juts into the Arabian Sea, but the truth is, I don't even know what it looks like.  The sun had set before we landed and by 1:30AM I was back on a plane headed for Kathmandu.  All I saw were patches of dark punctuated by millions of points of light and, of course, the airport itself.

The airport was impressive, a plethora of high-end shops selling everything from sports cars to jewelry. And many of the design elements of the airport were first class. From the middle east to Asia, the world does airports so much better that their European and American counterparts.

There are things to do, in the city, in the desert, and body of water off the coast in, depending on where you live and what you do, the Arabian Gulf, the Arabian Sea, the Persian Sea, or the Persian Gulf.  During my brief visit there, the most surprising thing I learned about Qataris is their obsession with stadiums and soccer - especially the FIFA world cup. The number of large, world class stadiums is considerably out of proportion to the population of 2.7 million people perched on the peninsula and the designs are stunning.  Give yourself a visual treat and Google "Qatar stadiums".

Friday, April 4, 2025 - Kathmandu, Nepal

Flight QR 648 arrived early but the sun was rising as we approached he'd the Nepali border. An unbroken layer of low-lying clouds blanketed the area, and you'd occasionally see mountain peaks rise above the cloud cover.

The flight path to Kathmandu brings you in from the south - it's the only way to fly into the valley without some extreme flight maneuvers as it is guarded by peaks in all other directions. And even on that southern approach, the plane passed several nearby peaks that were higher than our attitude. 

But the plane landed without incident and after a brief hiccup with my visa, I met up with my guide, Dihendra, who was waiting for me with his “Mr. Everette” placard. We walked out to the cab where Dihendra had a basket of water, juices, and snacks waiting for me. Nice touches, especially after a long journey.

We wound our way through the traffic, headed for the Kathmandu Guest House in the Thamel district of Kathmandu - a great location in the old part of the city, walking distance to several interesting places. My home for the next three nights is an older hotel but well-maintained and nicely decorated (some of the biggest cove molding I've ever seen) with a flowered courtyard with food and beverage service - providing a nice respite from the hustle and bustle of the street.

Because we arrived so early, it was still before 10:00 am when we got to the hotel, so Dihendra and I sat down for some fruit juice and conversation. Less than 15 minutes later though, they had my room prepared and I got checked in. The porter said it was a nice room, and it was. The room has a faded charm that borders on the classic. Wood doors, polished brass hardware, and a small balcony overlooking the courtyard all added to an understated, comfortable, and relaxing ambiance.

But relaxation was not in the cards for me, not yet anyway. I didn’t want to waste a minute, too much to see in such a short time - and I don't like wasting daylight. Sure, I was tired after having only a few short naps on the flights over, but I've learned my body will just shut down when it needs to and because I'm not driving, there's no worries.

So I grabbed my camera and hit the streets, invigorated after arriving in a part of the world I'd never seen. I was getting my second win and a good thing too because shortly after, I met Prinsh (sp.) Prinsh spoke pretty good English and he offered to walk with me in the neighborhood. At first, I hesitated. I wasn't sure what he was up to and history has proven to me that I'm an easy mark for street vendors. After chatting a bit though and him telling me about all the sights within walking distance, I decided he had something to offer, so we were off.

Prinsh is an interesting character. He came across as very honest but many of his stories contain elements that people like to hear that made me wonder if he was what he said, or just a very polished liar. We spent the next five hours together and I never caught him in a slip-up, so I choose to believe him.

Prinsh is 19, is studying Tourism in college, is very religious and is a vegetarian. His family home is in the mountains, near Everest, and he is a Sherpa. For clarification, the word “Sherpa” applies to a group of people whose ancestors come from the Tibetan Plateau and most Sherpas now live in the mountains of Nepal. When most people hear the word “Sherpa” though, they think of the guides and porters who help international climbers achieve their summit goals. 

It turns out though that Prinsh is a Sherpa in the classical sense. In fact, he comes from a family of guides and porters and his father has summited Everest twice. Prinsh is a porter during the climbing season and he pursues his education in the off season. But this IS the climbing season, March, April, and May, so why was he not in the high country? There was a bit of contempt in his reply. He hates being a porter. He resents 12-hour days hiking uphill with heavy packs for rich Asians and Westerners (mostly American) for $10 a day. Companies typically charge between $30-60,000 to attempt an Everest summit but the porters make $10 a day. Yeah, I think I'd hate that too. 

But he continued on and the resentment moved to the disdain end of the spectrum as he described the rude manners, disrespect of the mountains, and rampant drug use, mostly weed, of the climbing customers. He said most curtail their drug use to camp but he's seen others use on the trail as well. Anybody want to get high and go climb a 29,000 foot, ice-covered mountain that claims 15-20 lives a year?

And it turned out he knows how to give a tour - one of the best I've had anywhere. We took off at a good place with Prinsh constantly looking back, making sure I avoided potholes, holding out his arms to protect me from traffic (cars motorcycles, pedal cars, pedestrians all share the narrow roads. He made absolutely sure I stayed safe.

And he took me to some of the most out-of the-way places I would've never found on my own. For example, an old, old building, maybe c.1600s, that contains the oldest glass windows in Kathmandu. He avoided all the tourist-oriented shops and brought me to where "the people” shop. Sure enough, as we went deeper into the old market area, I saw fewer and fewer tourists . . . yes, we're pretty easy to spot. 

And Prinsh was unabashedly honest in some of his descriptions. One stop was a small temple on the street, he called it the Kama Sutra temple for the “time before pornography on the internet”. It's a small, square temple, only about 20 feet on each side, and the brightly colored carvings on the walls and lintels depicted, well, sexual acts and lascivious female figures. In Prinsh's matter-of-fact style, he said that men would go around the temple to the back and, his words, " jack off to the figures and images." I guess that's one way to visit heaven. There were large, brass bells hanging from each corner and I was curious what those were for, but decided that maybe I really didn't want to know.

But towards the end of the afternoon, he also brought me to the Boudhanath Stupa, a UNESCO world heritage site (1979) that is one of the three great stupas in Nepal (the other two are Swayambhunath Stupa and Namo Buddha Stupa) and the largest circular stupa in this part of Asia. Before circling the stupa (clockwise, always clockwise) we went up to the 3rd floor of one of the restaurants, got an open-window seat (great for photographing) and had pizzas and Gorhka beer. I would've chosen something a little more aligned with the local cuisine, but they were really good pizzas and Gorhka beer is full of flavor. Prinsh wolfed his pizza down so fast it made me wonder when was the last time he'd eaten.

After the lunch break, we circled the stupa with other tourists and devotees. The brilliant white-washed dome reminded me of buildings in Santorini, Greece but there was a vestige of ochre-colored pigment creating arches along the face of the dome. According to Prinsh, about every 10 days monks will make up some pigment and literally throw the paint on the dome in graceful, sweeping arches. It'd be a wonderful process to witness but no time for it on this trip. Prinsh flagged a taxi to take back to the hotel where we bid farewell and I gave him some money to help him with tuition at school.

The body shut down on the way back a couple of times and when I got back to my room, I just collapsed. When I woke, it was nearly 10:00pm and the quaint, little courtyard was teeming with activity that carried on well into the wee morning hours. Normally, I'd be bothered by such late night revelry, but I'd had a good sleep and had no need for more.

The day was a great and unexpected start to my stay in Nepal.

Saturday, April 5, 2025 - Kathmandu & Swayambhunath

Yesterday was a great day. Today was an awesome day!

Breakfast at the Kathmandu Guest House was not as elaborate as on a cruise ship but it was tasty and fresh, besides, I’m not on a cruise ship. The only thing I would’ve done differently was to eat a bit more - I was running low on fuel by the time today’s scheduled tour ended.

Dhirendra arrived to pick me up promptly at 9:00AM. The driver took off to meet us later and Dhirendra and I walked the streets to the nearby market and onward to the Bishnumati River. It was early in the day, a weekend, and a festival day as well, so the vendors were cleaning their shops, preparing their wares, and sweeping the streets. It was in the same general direction as my walk yesterday but the route was different with some sights familiar and some not. I’m glad I did both.

Dhirendra gave a running commentary of not only the immediate area, remembering going shopping with his grandmother in the market, but of the history and culture of the Kathmandu Valley as well.  I should’ve recorded everything he said, he’s full of information.

We smelled the Bishnumati River before we saw it. Like so many small channels of water in far too many places in the world, it’s become a sewage canal. I’ve seen and smelled so many in so many places, I took it in stride, but Dihrendra surprised me when he said the river was so clean when he was a kid, you could drink from it.  How did it get so bad in such a short period of time? People.  We can sometimes be our own worst enemy.

The driver met us at the river and we were off to Kathmandu Durbar Square, one of two UNESCO World Heritage sites we’ll visit today. A “Durbar” is a Royal Palace and there’s three of them in the Kathmandu Valley. Development of the complex is traced back to the 3rd century but expanded significantly under the Malla Dynasty when numerous temples and palaces were added, especially in the 16th century. 

But the square was devastated by the April 25, 2015 earthquake. It was a 7.9 and several buildings that had stood for centuries were reduced to a pile of rubble during the 59 seconds that their world shook. Today, there is an eclectic mix of new buildings, rebuilt structures that attempt to, as much as possible, retain their former grandeur, repaired structures, and many that are works in progress 10 years after the event, a grim reminder of the 8900 lives that were lost.

It is a festival day and as the morning haze burned off (somewhat) the families started arriving. They were dressed in festive clothes with special attention given to the young girls. Blazes of color appeared wherever you looked and even those dressed all in white, mourners who have lost loved ones in the past year, were out enjoying the day.  No one was rushing and there was a sense of relaxation and calm in the air.

But because it was a festival day, it also meant feasts, and feasts, even here in predominantly Hindu Nepal, mean meat. Young water buffalo and small tribes of goats were tied to temples with tassled red cords and they wore the telltale mark of a red blessing on their foreheads, heads adorned with marigolds. Today would be their last in their current cycle on the Wheel of Life and by the time we left the square, carcasses were already being carted out.

But there was one more very important thing to do before leaving Durbar Square.  I had to meet a Living Goddess, Kumari. Kumari lives in her own brick palace in the square, attended to by her staff, going out infrequently. Installed as the Living Goddess Kumari, Trishna Shakya is 7 years old. Sometimes, between 11am and noon, she may appear at her third-story window for a few seconds and people pack into her courtyard to get a glimpse of her. Today, she appeared, passively surveyed the crowd for a few moments, then quietly retreated into her room.

From there, it was off to the National Museum of Nepal, which, as the name implies, is the foremost repository of Nepal's cultural heritage. The thing that struck me most was that a lot of their collection of Hindu art, especially the painted pieces, share a commonality with Christian art in that they both tell their stories. As with stained glass windows down in Europe, if you understand that pictorial language, you can read through the piece and gain an understanding of its true meaning.

From there, it was off to the second UNESCO site of the day, to a hill west of town that overlooks the Kathmandu Valley, Swayambhu Mahachaitya - the Monkey Temple. And, yes, there were monkeys there, Rhesus monkeys. There weren't as many as I thought I'd find, but there were plenty, and they were always causing mischief. When not sparring with one another, they were snatching food (usually from kids), harassing the dogs who shared their space, and generally being a nuisance. 

There were some great views of the Kathmandu Valley, and on clear days you can see the Himalayas soar above the nearby lesser mountains. Today was not a clear day and even the nearby mountains were just shadows. But they were there.

It was already a full day and I was out of fuel, but Dhirendra had one more treat for the day and what a treat it was, the Seto Machhindranath, the Chariot Pulling Procession. The purpose is to appeal to the Gods for good weather and a prosperous growing season. Organizers and volunteers gather to decorate an old wooden cart that holds a locally-revered deity and parade it through the streets.  They are accompanied by thousands of supporters chanting, drumming, and dancing. Dhirendra got me (us) an invitation to a VIP party sponsored by the local Tourist Board and I was greeted with a blessing to the forehead, a garland of marigolds, and food and drink. We were on the roof of a building along the route and it was a great view of the procession that just grew and grew as the chariot was being prepared.

And those preparations. The heavy wooden cart and the tabernacle it carried was adorned with color and a bamboo infrastructure, some 50 feet tall, rose from the platform.  Pine boughs were hauled up and fixed to the bamboo frame with natural fiber rope. Even with scores of workers it was quite a task and, of course, no one wore safety lines.  Eventually, long cotton streamers, red (fire), white (air), yellow (earth), green (plants), blue (water) - the same colors as the prayer flags hanging pretty much wherever you look  - were tied to the top and hurled down for ground workers to arrange. When completed, the chariot appeared like a giant rolling Christmas tree.  

When all was set, the deity statue was gently placed in the tabernacle, a gun was fired, and to the roar of the crowd, the men heaved on the thick rope, inching the chariot forward. It was electrifying and you couldn’t help but be swept away in the excitement. I expressed to Dhirendra how it reminded me of matsuris in Matsumoto, Japan.  The difference is that the tabernacle, weighing about a ton, is paraded about town, balanced on two thick poles carried by men in traditional dress who were offered sake at every business that was blessed by the mikoshi, or portable temple. Dhirendra agreed that it was impressive, but said, really, this pales in comparison to the similar celebration of his home town to the south.  There, the chariot is 50 meters tall (yes, meters, not feet), over 20,000 people attend, and the celebration carries on for most of the month with the chariot being moved by a group, left to rest overnight, then another group moves it to the next way station the next day. THAT would be something to experience!

Sunday, April 6, 2025 - Dhulikhel, Bhaktapur, and Changu Narayan

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Monday, April 7, 2025 - Paro & Punakha

Dhirendra arrives at 6:15 for the ride to the airport.  No time for breakfast (they open at 6:00) but yesterday he arranged for the hotel to prepare something to take with me.  Dihendra and Autley both have my respect, they don’t just talk the talk, they pay attention to every detail. I can’t believe I’d never heard of them before.  They created a feature-packed itinerary, but are really making sure things stay on track and that I have a good experience.  Dhirendra confirmed they were successful in getting me in seat 17A, which will, more or less, insure my first panoramic view of the Himalayas.

The airport was hectic, what airport isn't. I did not see a lot of blue passports, Americans appear to be already curtailing international travel. Nearly all Caucasians were carrying European passports, most from Germany. 

Everything flowed smoothly and after a slight delay, we were off. The plane is a modified Airbus 320, and even Flightview, my favorite air travel app, calls out that the plane is equipped with “sharklets” for greater maneuverability. 

And that is needed because of the challenges that Paro's airport imposes - narrow valley, high mountains, short approach, short runway, narrow runway, unpredictable weather, and no electronic navigation or assists - the pilots fly stick for landing and takeoff and there's only about 50 pilots qualified to fly there.

That being said, the landing was not even close to being the white-knuckle experience that the internet would have you believe. Yes, you look at your window and you see mountains looming on both sides as you approach but, really, it was nothing dramatic. If you're looking for something dramatic, fly out of Juneau, Alaska where the pilots have to go vertical to avoid smashing into the Mendenhall glacier when they take off.

But there was drama on the flight - the Himalayas. I spoke with people who had been in Nepal over a week and never could see the mountains. As long as those fires burn, possibly until monsoon season hits in a few weeks, the haze is going to keep those mountains shrouded. Unless you're going to do some long trekking, the only way you can see them now is to get above the haze.

I believe I've seen all the major mountain ranges in the world and several lesser ones, but nothing compares to the vastness of the Himalayas. Audley got me a good seat - 17A, although 18A would've been even better - access to two windows. There were several people who signed up for seats on the Himalayan side of the plane, expecting to see the dramatic panorama, but all they saw was bulkhead, or a sliver of seat in front or back of them. That was not the case for me, although I could've done without the wing in my field of view.

Some people had the audacity to ask if I'd switch seats with them. I declined. But several times, I sat back to let others borrow the view and they were appreciative, although one German traveler took advantage of the situation and that did not please me much. She was straining so much to get a shot, I kindly got up and stood in the aisle so she could get her shot. I stood in the aisle for nearly 5 minutes before she finally relinquished my seat. I just glared at her as she squirmed away. I had already got my shots and video, but the rudeness of some people still amazes me. I hope she loses her phone.

The only hiccup at the airport was caused by me - I didn’t check exchange rates of the Bhutanese rupee to US dollar.  The ATM at the airport, Jason from Audley said it was the easiest way to get rupees, was vague as to whether I was withdrawing the specified amount of dollars or rupees.  At an exchange rate of about 137 rupee to the dollar, taking out 3,000 rupees is a lot different than $3,000 and if it was dollars, what the heck would I do with $3,000 worth of rupees! I kicked the can down the road and went to go find my guide and driver.

The guide, Pema, was funny.  He was holding up the placard with my name, but he had it flipped around so all you could see was a white sheet of paper. We laughed. He’ll do fine. The driver, Kaka (he stressed it’s spelled with a “K”, not a “C”) was just as good-natured and, of course, the wore traditional clothes - black shoes, high black socks, a knee-length robe (gho) tied with a cloth belt (kera). The clothes looked pretty comfortable and there’s something attractive about being able to roam around in public wearing just a robe. Pema presented me with a white sash as a welcome gift. Nice gesture.

Pema is very well-spoken and very smart - he is knowledgeable about many topics both inside and outside of Bhutan - and while he rarely initiates a conversation, he can talk at length once engaged. While chatting (it’s a long drive to the Punakha Valley) we learned that we are all horses in the Chinese calendar and we called to ourselves the Three Horsemen.

So the Three Horsemen loaded up and left Paro, taking the winding mountain road to the Punakha Valley. We started at 2200 meters, about 7,200 feet, the same elevation as when I lived in Colorado Springs. We crested at the 10,000 foot Dochula Pass.  I was surprised to see an abundant forest as in the US, we’d be getting close to tree line, but Pema said the tree line in Bhutan is more like 13,000 feet. There is a memorial at the crest, the Dorchula Chorten, honoring all those who died when the Fourth King of Bhutan launched an operation to expel Indian rebels who’d taken up residence in southern Bhutan.  The memorial consists of an array of 108 small stupas and it was a pleasant stop.  There’s a great aerial view of the memorial on Google Maps.

And speaking of forests, this might be the healthiest temperate forest I’ve encountered.  In the US, when driving through a national forest, you’d often pass through burns or beetle kill, but here, the entire forest, filled with pine, oak, rhododendron, magnolia and many trees I can’t identify, is a lush green. Pema informed me that development in Bhutan is limited so as to always maintain 65-70% of the land as forest.

The next stop was a roadside restaurant where I had my first taste of Bhutanese food - although it was not Ema Datshi, their national dish. As expected, the food, buffet style, was heavy on vegetables and light on meat. I’d noticed the numerous roadside stands along the road to Punakha, local farmers selling their produce - well-cleaned and beautifully displayed. The restaurant, no doubt, bought their food from local growers and you could really taste the freshness - much more flavorful than their commercially grown counterparts in the US, or wherever we’re importing food from. Another thing I’ve noticed, when vegetables are your primary food, you combine them and spices into really tasty dishes.  I’m not ready to go vegan, or even vegetarian, but I like flavorful food whether it had parents or not.

A couple of Australian travelers were at the next table and we had a laugh when we eventually acknowledged each other.  They’d been talking about the shift in American politics, especially as it’s playing out on the world stage, and they were surprised that I was American. I’m guessing in the next few months, international travelers will be encountering fewer and fewer Americans outside of America. I realized I really haven’t had much casual conversation in the last few weeks and it took a while to re-establish those neural pathways responsible for conversation. I’m glad they reached out and said “Hi” because it’s the people you encounter along the way that add flavor to the journey.

We were too soon back on the road but I fulfilled one of my goals on this trip - to see wild yaks. About 30 minutes after leaving the restaurant, we encountered a small herd, including calves, along the side of the road. They were unbothered by us and I was comfortable getting out of the car to better view them. I still kept my distance, but this isn’t something I would do if they were bison in Yellowstone. When a bus pulled up and 20 tourists piled out, it was time to go.  The yaks thought likewise.

I was blind-sided by the next stop - Chimi Lhakhang, the Fertility Temple. In the 15th century, The “Divine Madman”, Drukpa Kunley, who earned his nickname through a lifetime of increasingly bizarre behavior. He promoted intercourse as a means of attaining enlightenment and, according to legend, he subdued the Dochu La demoness, with his “magic thunderbolt of wisdom”, and she is still imprisoned there in the small stupa by the temple.

The first sign that things were “different” here was the appearance of phallic symbols painted on walls and being sold in shops in Sopsokha. Lots of them. And as we walked up the hill to the temple, I noticed there were a lot more women than men there.  When we got in the temple, there was a different feeling in the air.  I’ve been in numerous temples in several countries - this one felt different.

There are many stories Drupka Kunley’s eccentricities, most tinged with humor, and it’s easy to see why he is one of the most loved monks in Bhutanese culture,

It was a short drop to the valley and the Puna Thsang Chu, aka, the Sankosh River, The river is a milky blue, characteristic of glacial runoff, and it’s fed by two glacial tributaries just about 5km up river - the Mo Cchu and the Pho Cchu. We eventually ended the day’s drive at the Meri Puensum Resort on a hill overlooking the river. The resort is managed by a former governor (Dzongda) of the area and the grounds are gorgeous.  The main building looks like an English manor, the rooms are spacious, and the architects did a great job of utilizing the hillside to provide privacy for the guests.

Three things jumped out at me. One, most of the staff are women. Even the hauling of suitcases is done by women, as is the gardening, and the front desk is all women.  Two , everyone spoke in hushed tones, so hushed that my old ears had difficulty hearing them at times.  I noticed that, even in the car, Pema and Kaka spoke softly when chatting with each other, it’s not like I was going to eavesdrop on their conversation - I couldn’t even if I wanted to! Three, no one smiled. Front desk, porters, gardeners, wait staff, no smiles. I guess Gross National Happiness here in Bhutan is not measured in smiles.

Dinner was served at 6:30 and it was much the same as the day’s roadside stop - but more flavorful.  They started with a mushroom-ginger soup that would have been enough for me, it was so good that I went back for another bowl.  Just as earlier in the day, there was a single dish that offered meat, chicken I think, I prefer to not think of alternatives to what else it could be.

Butchering, the slaughter of animals, is prohibited in Bhutan, but, obviously, meat can still be eaten.  I tasted the “chicken” offering in both places and in each case, the dish was mostly vegetables. No problem with that, but it looked like the chicken was chopped into bite-size pieces with a cleaver, which sent shards and bits of bone into the chicken and into the meal. There was no way to eat that particular dish without getting chicken bone bits in your mouth, not a big deal, so long as you didn’t bite down on one.

It was dark after dinner and I strolled down the lit path back to my room in this very peaceful and quiet setting, the end of my first day in Bhutan.

Tuesday, April 8, 2025 - Panakha Dzong, Khamsum Yulley, and Butter

Bhutan is quiet. Really quiet.  Like spooky, scary quiet, at least here in the Punakha Valley. In the wee hours of the morning there are no cars, no voices, no dogs, no coyotes, no owls.  Silence.  Deafening silence.  It certainly causes one to reflect inwards, if for no other reason than to listen to your own body functioning - because that’s the only sound you hear. Around 5:15, the approaching dawn gave notice to the birds to start their day, and the silence of the night was broken.

Yesterday was largely a travel day because of the ride to the Punakha Valley, about 4 hours, but we did stop along the way and it was an enjoyable trip. Today, I’d planned on visiting some nearby villages where I’d be able to distribute the pens, pencils, markers, erasers, sharpeners, and eyeglasses that I brought as gifts. But Pema and Kaka had different plans.

Usual start time, 9;00AM, but before that I enjoyed my first Bhutanese breakfast.  Unsurprisingly, it was a simple affair with small, plain omelettes, vegetables, rice, oatmeal and bread.  Everything was flavorful, but I still haven’t experienced any of the hot chilis the internet claims Bhutan is famous for. The thing that surprised me most was the bread - it was just a shade off of “Wonder Bread” that so many Boomers grew up on.  They grow winter wheat here in the rice paddies during the dry season, so the bread should be hearty, possibly stone ground, definitely whole grain.  The bread was tasty but, like its counterpart from the past, a slice could be waded up in a ball the size of a large marble. I can excuse the store-bought peanut butter - which I skipped today but will load up on tomorrow for the protein - but some jam from local fruits, guavas grow wild here, would’ve been preferable to the giant jar Kroger-quality “preserves” they offered. At 8:30, I thought it’d be nice to stroll the grounds, but Pema and Kaka were already here, so our day began.

First stop was the iconic 17th century Punakha Dzong at the confluence of the Pho Chhu (male) and Mo Chhu (female) rivers. It is an impressive and effective fortress, halting the advance of numerous Tibetan invasions from the north over the years. The plan was to make a more in-depth view later in the day so it was just a short photo op. 

As we moved on though, traffic police stopped our car and had a chat with Pema and Kaka.  Some of the royal family are spending time up the valley so the policeman advised them to be on good behavior. These are things that don’t even come up in daily life, unless you live in a small country, controlled by a King.

We continued up the Mo Cchu, passing through terraced fields carved into the hills close to the river. Higher up, it was far too steep for even terraced farms, but that was our destination - the Khamsum Yulley Namgyal Chörten.

Kaka brought us to the foot of a prayer flag-lined bridge that crossed the river. I decided to bring the big lens for this hike but had I known what I was in for, I might have gone small. High up on a hill, next to those terraced fields sat a temple overlooking the valley. There was a rough, but well-worn trail that wound through farmer’s fields that gave way to pine first as we went higher.  For the first time on this trip, I was feeling the altitude and as we went higher, the stops were more frequent, which was good because it gave me a chance to survey and appreciate the valley below.

Pema, who has done this trek countless times, said we made really good time.  I wasn’t sure if he was stroking my ego as I stood in the courtyard, hunched over, trying to suck in as much air as possible, but I’ll accept it. It was the most strenuous hike I can remember from recent history, but good practice for Tiger’s Nest in a few days.  And even though Pema let me take the lead - a smart move so he wouldn’t have to worry about regulating the pace - I noticed he was sweating quite a bit whenever we stopped, so maybe it was a robust pace.

Inside the temple, there were three levels to view before a narrow stairway led us to a viewing platform at the top and that provided fantastic views of the valley. After seeing so much Buddhist art in these temples, dzongs and palaces I’ve been experiencing, I’m starting to recognize the various deities and incarnations of Buddha and the stories these walls and sculptures tell - not unlike the stained glass pictorials in European cathedrals.

When waves of tourists began stumbling, panting into the courtyard, it was time to go. People have said that going downhill is harder on the body than going uphill, and to them, I say, “Hogwash”. From my days in Colorado half a century ago, bounding down those trails, or just foregoing the trails altogether and “screeing” down the slopes has always brought me great joy and exhilaration, and today was no different. So, with pack on my back and 8 pounds of camera in my arms, I took off, instinctively planting my foot at the best location to launch the next leap with the fluidity and sureness of a mountain goat. I was one with the goat. I was the goat. After a while, I no longer heard Pema so close behind me and at one point he stated that I’ve done this kind of thing before, clearly impressed with my adroitness. Coming from a guy who does this trek, and more, every week, I took that as the best of compliments.  And later, when we got back to the car, he described to Kaka how I bounded down the hill, further confirmation that “I still got it.”  Of course, I could’ve just as easily taken a tumble, smashing my gear and my body, but that wasn’t in the stars for today.

On the way back to Punakha, we walked across the longest suspension bridge in Bhutan, just shy of 600 feet. So long is the bridge that you are walking downhill for the first part, and uphill as you reach the other side. It was well-designed with anchoring cables on either side to reduce the amount of sway, but some still tried to hang on to the cables, both sides, that held the decking. The King built the bridge for the few farmers on the other side of the river to save them a several hour drive into town.  And even though not permitted, the farmers, when the tourists are gone, ride their motorcycles and drive livestock across the bridge. I’d say that’s a pretty good trick to coerce a cow to traverse a swaying suspension bridge.

On the other side were a few buildings that held shops on the first floors and shopkeepers residences on the second, and we stepped into a lively pub with an even livelier proprietor who joked with everyone who came through the door.  When one Indian tourist asked about the price of some snacks, she told him 500 rupees but if  he came back later without his wife, she’d make him a very good deal. Pema and I each had a glass of freshly made, unadulterated watermelon juice that was the perfect refreshment after the trek up the hill.

From there, it was lunch across from the Punakha Dzong. They served, more or less, typical fare - vegetables, noodles, rice, some hacked-up chicken, but they surprised me with small pieces of pork on the buffet. Unfortunately, just as with the chicken, that pig was set upon with a meat cleaver and bone shards we distributed throughout the dish.

After lunch and Pema’s demonstration on how to properly fold a khata, we walked across the covered bridge to the dzong. A large school of fish pooled under the bridge and I stopped alongside a monk to study them. People are not allowed to take the fish, they are for the monarchy, although Pema said the government is considering issuing catch-and-release licenses for tourists.

Built in 1637, the Punakha Dzong is the most famous of all the warrior-monk fortresses in Bhutan and it is an imposing compound.  According to legend, there were no plans for the architect, as one night, the king and the builder shared the same dream for the design of the compound and work commenced immediately.  It took one year to build. One year. It would take more than that just to get a permit to build such a massive compound today in most any country.

It is on the “tentative” list for registration as a UNESCO World Heritage site and if that organization has any legitimacy and integrity (which I have significant doubts about since it registered the “Tucson food scene” as a UNESCO site) and would cut the crap and immediately grant it World Heritage Site status.  I have been in many Buddhist temples in several countries, and the Punakha Dzong is among the finest, if not THE finest I’ve ever experienced. Yes, it’s that good. After getting a tutorial on the many artifacts inside, Pema and I sat on floor cushions as a hundred or so monks entered the chambers and started their afternoon chants. To hear those chants, in that setting, was magical.

There was one oddity that Pema pointed out.  Sitting at the feet of some statues were some incredibly detailed, brightly colored sculptures, usually less than two feet high. With all the stunning art in the chamber, these were easy to overlook, and I’m sure the casual observer would just glance over them.  But the thing that makes them stand out as an oddity, is that they’re made from butter. Butter.

One other oddity, and one that I’d completely missed upon entering the dzong were the massive bee hives under the highest eaves of the dzong. I don’t think I can accurately estimate the number of bees, but it would not surprise me if their populations were well into six digits. Pema said they are left in place because the bees bring prosperity.

Our final stop of the day was the Sangchhen Dorji nunnery - and some of the royal family were visiting there. There were numerous armed guards, protecting the fleet of shiny, black, Toyota HiLux SUVs, and no one was allowed to get close. Pema said it was also not wise to photograph them. The nunnery was built at the request of the maternal grandmother of the 4th King of Bhutan on a placid, but windy, hilltop overlooking the Punakha Valley,  It was the shortest stop of the day, and I was thankful for that because my tank was empty. It was a strenuous day, but it hurt so good.

Wednesday, April 9, 2025 - Thimphu 

I failed to mention it yesterday, but not more than 15 seconds after returning to my room from dinner, there was a clap of thunder and the skies opened. Other than wind for the better part of the day yesterday, there was no warning. Now, daily rain is predicted for the remainder of my stay here in Bhutan. It seems a little early for the monsoons, from what I’ve been told, but if it suppresses the fires and haze, they are most welcome.

It’s a moving day. We are leaving the Punakha Valley and heading west to Thimphu along the same highway we came in from, which took us over Dochula Pass and the memorial there. The parking area was completely filled and tourists, mostly Indian, roaming everywhere on the grounds, making getting good photos a bit challenging. And it was cold at 10,000 feet, I had to dig out the jacket and even flipped the hood up after a while.

We soon dropped down into Thimphu though where the temperatures were more moderate. About 30% of Bhutan's 771,000 people live in Thimphu. There's traffic, but it's not terrible, and they still don't have any traffic lights, nor are they needed.

Like everywhere else in Bhutan, the valley is steep and narrow, so urban expansion is limited to the narrow corridor defined by the river that runs through the city. Building codes are strictly enforced, as they should be in mountainous areas subject to floods and earthquakes, but architectural style is also regulated. For example, all windows have to have a decorative lintel that is characteristic of traditional Bhutanese buildings. Also, government buildings always have red roofs, while the roofs of private buildings are green.

Our first stop was the National Memorial Chorten, a Bhutanese-style stupa commemorating the Third King of Bhutan. Scores of people circled the stupa, clockwise, always clockwise, beads in hand to amplify their prayers. There were many elderly at the site, selling simple handiwork to add to their seemingly meager income. It was the perfect place to distribute the eyeglasses I'd collected from people back in the US.

Pema and Kaka helped with the distribution - I couldn't have done it without them. At first, people thought I was selling eyeglasses and there was no interest,  but as soon as my friends told them it was a gift, I was swarmed. Kaka wisely grabbed the bag of gifts, which included colored markers, pencils, and sharpeners for kids, so I wouldn't lose it to the crowd. It took quite a bit of back and forth and swapping glasses until people got ones that fit them and, eventually, I ran out. 

The sincere appreciation that people gave me was more than touching and I'm sure many prayers were offered on my behalf that day. Pema said no one has ever done that before and he thanked me several times as well. If you're a tourist, visiting out of the way places, bring eyeglasses and distribute them to the elderly, you will not regret it. As for me, my only regret was that I didn't have more.

From there, it was a short drive to the Royal Takin Preserve to see Bhutan's national animal - the hump-nose, half goat, half cow Takin.

Thursday, April 10, 2025 - Thimphu Valley

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Friday, April 11, 2025 - Paro Tshechu, Day 1

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Saturday, April 12, 2025 - Paro Tshechu, Day 2

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Sunday, April 13, 2025 - Taksang, the Tiger's Nest Monastery

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Monday, April 14, 2025 - Nagarkot

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Tuesday, April 15, 2025 - The Long Ride Home

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Lessons from the Himalayas

I like to think I learn something from every journey, it's one of the pleasures that makes up for the inconveniences and annoyances of traveling in the 21st century. Here's my key takeaways from this excursion: