Everyone had left the dinner party, except Doug, Dean and myself. We were sitting in the back yard under the trees. I had, already, agreed to the Royalty Belgium book delivery.
It was a quiet night.
"Bhutan," uttered Dean.
"Bhutan? What or where is that?" I asked.
"Buddhist Kingdom. The Himalayas....near Nepal and Tibet. Newly opened," Dean replied.
I had never heard of it. Both Doug and Dean had.
We made a vow - who could be the first to visit Bhutan.
Doug came in first, traveling with his mother. I came in second traveling alone. Dean never made it.
Spring 1982 by road. February 1983 by Drukair from Kolkata. These two trips are muddled in my mind, so I will take poetic license. Incidents from both become one.
For history's sake, the land approach to Bhutan began from Bagdogra, India. I was met by a guide from BTC (Bhutan Travel Corporation), the only inbound travel organization in Bhutan at the time. We drove to the border town of Phuentsholing where I spent the night in a 1* hotel. Next morning, the drive continued to Paro over a fairly rough winding road on which we were delayed multiple times by landslides. Our length of time on the road - extreme.
Drukair began service to Paro from Kolkata in February 1983. Their first or second flight included the captain, co-captain, a stewardess and two passengers - myself and a Buddhist monk. We flew in a Dornier Do 228 19 passenger aircraft which climbed slowly out of the Kolkata airport, across the northern plains of India into the foothills of Bhutan and through the mountain passes. The brown terraced hills were higher than the airplane. I could look down through the windows on villagers sitting on their porches and in their barren fields and across to the snow-clad Himalayas (Dornier windows are under the wings). The monk chanted prayers throughout the flight (I assumed they were prayers). We landed, sped down the tarmac, turned around slowly and rolled to a stop.
The monk climbed down the steps, was greeted by a car and drove off. The stewardess, pilot and co-pilot climbed down the steps, were greeted by a car and drove off. I climbed down the steps and stood on the tarmac. No car greeting. Airplane, runway and I...that was it. No customs. No passport control. No airport.
The silence was broken by a vehicle approaching down the runway which stopped about 20 feet away. The driver got out, removed and set down a table and chair from the back of the vehicle, beckoned me forward, stamped my passport, folded the table and chair, returned them to the back of the vehicle, and drove off.
I had officially arrived in Bhutan.
Soon, another vehicle drove down the runway and stopped. I was greeted by my guide. We drove to the hillside Hotel Olathang outside Paro town where I was given a 2nd floor room. I had two twin beds and placed my backpack on one and fell asleep on the other. During the night, I was joined by mice (or were they rats????) who ate a hole in my backpack and consumed my candy bars.
Tomorrow morning - A Hike to Taktsang Monastery (the Tiger's Nest).
______________________________________________________________
"One can hardly imagine we are on the main trade route into Bhutan from India. Today the road has been so bad that literally I have seldom been across worse places when after Ibex in Baltistan. Riding was out of the question, and the mules had men in front and men hanging on to their tails hoisting them over the worst places. Even then thee mules must be more like goats to find any foothold at all. The march was only 12 miles long today but it took us nearly eight hours to negotiate. The scenery was very fine, when we could take our eyes off the road to admire it, the hills on either side towering for thousands of feet above one, and where not of sheer rock, were densely wooded."
Captain Hyslop, In the Shadows of the Himalayas, Kurt Meyer & Pamela Duel Meyer
"Bhutan? What or where is that?" I asked.
"Buddhist Kingdom. The Himalayas....near Nepal and Tibet. Newly opened," Dean replied.
I had never heard of it. Both Doug and Dean had.
We made a vow - who could be the first to visit Bhutan.
Doug came in first, traveling with his mother. I came in second traveling alone. Dean never made it.
Spring 1982 by road. February 1983 by Drukair from Kolkata. These two trips are muddled in my mind, so I will take poetic license. Incidents from both become one.
For history's sake, the land approach to Bhutan began from Bagdogra, India. I was met by a guide from BTC (Bhutan Travel Corporation), the only inbound travel organization in Bhutan at the time. We drove to the border town of Phuentsholing where I spent the night in a 1* hotel. Next morning, the drive continued to Paro over a fairly rough winding road on which we were delayed multiple times by landslides. Our length of time on the road - extreme.
Drukair began service to Paro from Kolkata in February 1983. Their first or second flight included the captain, co-captain, a stewardess and two passengers - myself and a Buddhist monk. We flew in a Dornier Do 228 19 passenger aircraft which climbed slowly out of the Kolkata airport, across the northern plains of India into the foothills of Bhutan and through the mountain passes. The brown terraced hills were higher than the airplane. I could look down through the windows on villagers sitting on their porches and in their barren fields and across to the snow-clad Himalayas (Dornier windows are under the wings). The monk chanted prayers throughout the flight (I assumed they were prayers). We landed, sped down the tarmac, turned around slowly and rolled to a stop.
The monk climbed down the steps, was greeted by a car and drove off. The stewardess, pilot and co-pilot climbed down the steps, were greeted by a car and drove off. I climbed down the steps and stood on the tarmac. No car greeting. Airplane, runway and I...that was it. No customs. No passport control. No airport.
The silence was broken by a vehicle approaching down the runway which stopped about 20 feet away. The driver got out, removed and set down a table and chair from the back of the vehicle, beckoned me forward, stamped my passport, folded the table and chair, returned them to the back of the vehicle, and drove off.
I had officially arrived in Bhutan.
Soon, another vehicle drove down the runway and stopped. I was greeted by my guide. We drove to the hillside Hotel Olathang outside Paro town where I was given a 2nd floor room. I had two twin beds and placed my backpack on one and fell asleep on the other. During the night, I was joined by mice (or were they rats????) who ate a hole in my backpack and consumed my candy bars.
Tomorrow morning - A Hike to Taktsang Monastery (the Tiger's Nest).
 |
| Taktsang Monastery from distance (1982/1983) |
"One can hardly imagine we are on the main trade route into Bhutan from India. Today the road has been so bad that literally I have seldom been across worse places when after Ibex in Baltistan. Riding was out of the question, and the mules had men in front and men hanging on to their tails hoisting them over the worst places. Even then thee mules must be more like goats to find any foothold at all. The march was only 12 miles long today but it took us nearly eight hours to negotiate. The scenery was very fine, when we could take our eyes off the road to admire it, the hills on either side towering for thousands of feet above one, and where not of sheer rock, were densely wooded."
Captain Hyslop, In the Shadows of the Himalayas, Kurt Meyer & Pamela Duel Meyer
