The stone verandah outside the Kurjey Lhakhang in Bhutan’s Bumthang Valley was cold. The monastery dedicated to Guru Rinponche was shut as the monks were at lunch, but I did not mind waiting. The only sounds I could hear were those of the fluttering prayer flags from the courtyard and the distant tinkling of a wind chime. The world was at peace and so was I.

My journey to Bhutan had started many years ago. In college, I had stumbled across some photographs of the Himalayan kingdom and fell instantly in love. It took me over a decade to finally take that flight to Bagdogra and then a taxi through towns, villages and fields to the Bhutan border. On a grey April evening, my husband and I crossed into Phuentsholing and entered a different world.

Travel through Bhutan is one long road journey, mostly on the highway that starts at Phuentsholing and cuts through the country.

The rain and mist kept us company almost the entire drive from Phuentsholing to Thimphu, the capital, but it did not block out the stunning views. The road to Thimphu winds through hills, and dark lush forests hug the steep slopes.

Resembling a small town rather than a nation’s capital to jaded Indians, Thimphu is nevertheless the most modern town in Bhutan. Like most towns in the country, Thimphu sits in a valley and its main street is filled with tiny shops and hotels. An evening at The Zone, a watering hole frequented by the city’s hip and happening crowd, introduced me to ema datshi , the national dish of chillies in cheese gravy. The chef’s skills put my fears about excessive heat to rest and ema datshi was part of almost every meal thereafter in Bhutan.

Thimphu is very easy on its visitors. It doesn’t take much of your time and energy. Our Thimphu ‘sightseeing’ started with the National Textile Museum, where we admired the rich traditional weaves that become the gho and kira — the national dress worn by Bhutanese men and women. Later we walked to Trashi Chhoe Dzong, the seat of the central government and also of the Je Khenpo, the chief abbot of Bhutan. The massive whitewashed walls and the multi-tiered roof of the Trashi Chhoe is meant to inspire awe.

Bhutan’s dzongs are its most impressive structures, lording over the surrounding landscape from strategic points atop a hill or at the mouth of a valley. The dzongs, some dating back to the 17th century, started out as fortresses and are seats of the district administration and the monastic body. The first dzong on our agenda was the one at Punakha, a little more than 70km from Thimphu.

An early morning drive through Dochu La pass and over some very bad roads got us to the picturesque Meri Puensum Hotel, situated on a hill slope before Punakha, in time for a lunch of emadatshi , beans datshi , chilli chicken and sticky brown rice.

The dzong at Punakha is the most beautiful I have seen. Located at the confluence of the Pho Chhu (Father River) and the Mo Chhu (Mother River), with a beautiful covered wood cantilever bridge leading up to it, the dzong looks straight out of a dream. Legend says architect Zowe Palep designed it, inspired by a vision of the palace of Guru Rinpoche.

Later, a pleasant and easy walk through fields and villages took us to the Chimi Lhakhang, a 15th-century monastery dedicated to the ‘divine madman’, Drukpa Kunley, who is responsible for the larger-than-life phallus symbols that adorn the walls of many homes and buildings in the country. The head monk blesses pilgrims by striking their heads with a wood phallus.

It took a better part of the next day for us to get to Bumthang, the spiritual heart of Bhutan. As we drove up from Punakha, yaks and pine trees became common. Every now and then terraced fields made their appearance, across the gorge on the opposite slopes, amidst forests speckled with red, pink and lavender flowers. At the head of these terraces were solitary farmhouses so steeply perched that I worried their residents might roll down to the bottom of the valley if they stumbled.

Suddenly we had snow-capped mountains for company — they marched silent and menacing beside us till we began our descent into Trongsa and then finally to Bumthang. And then appeared Chhume, the prettiest village I have seen. Wooden-roofed houses lined the straightest 500m stretch of road in Bhutan; flowers dotted every apple and peach tree; firewood lay neatly stacked beside the houses.

Jakar, a one-street town, is the main settlement in the valley with the Jakar Dzong keeping watch from a hilltop above. Monasteries and temples are peppered across Bumthang and it is easy to walk between some of them. That is what we did the next morning after a hearty breakfast at Jakar. We started with Jampey Lhakhang, a temple built in AD 659, dedicated to the Buddha of the Future.

We followed a slushy path between fields to the next monastery, whose roof we could see from Jampey. The scene was bucolic in the extreme. The sky was a startling blue with fluffy white clouds, cows grazed in a meadow and a couple of women worked in a faraway field. A few houses, in the typical Bhutanese architecture of white walls, small windows with colourful painted frames and sloping wood roofs, stood here and there.

We climbed up the boundary wall of the Kurjey Lhakhang by means of a short ladder and down another. As it was shut we waited around. Then we chose to walk to the new and colourful Zangto Pelri Lhakhang, a stone’s throw away. A solitary goat path led us to a nameless restaurant — just the front room of a house — where the lady of the house provided plate after plate of melt-in-the-mouth potato momos with a fiery chilli sauce and steamed rice and a plate of ema datshi . With full stomachs we made our way back to Kurjey, picking up pinecones as we walked.

That day and the next, we visited more monasteries, a monastic school, the Jakar Dzong and even a holy pond. The ‘non-spiritual’ highlights of Bumthang were the visits to a tiny cheese factory and a brewery.

It was with heavy hearts that we bid our goodbyes to Bumthang and started for Paro. I tried my best to extend the farewell — taking time picking up pebbles from the bed of the Chamkhar river and dilly-dallying as much as I could in pretty Chhume. A night halt at Wangdi ensured that we were dewy fresh when we drove into Paro.

Like Thimphu, Paro town is small and pretty. The dzong and the national museum, with its beautiful display of masks, are the only true ‘sights’ to see in the town. But Paro is also the starting point of the trek to Taktsang Lhakhang or the Tiger’s Nest monastery, located at the edge of a cliff.

I huffed and puffed my way up to Tiger’s Nest through the pine forests. Other tourists and guides shouted out words of encouragement and somehow — it seemed like a miracle — I was eye to eye with the otherworldly monastery. But I still had to climb down what seemed like an unending flight of steps and climb up another set to finally get to the monastery. Then, of course, we had to climb all the way down. My lungs and legs are not going to forget Tiger’s Nest for sometime.

Travel log

Getting there

Fly into Paro by Druk Air or Bhutan Airlines from Mumbai, Delhi, Kolkata or Bagdogra. Alternatively you can cross over by land. The Jaigaon-Phuentsholing border is the most convenient point to cross into the country.

Permits

Indians do not need a visa to enter Bhutan. Present your passport to get a week’s permit at the Paro airport or at the border. This permit is only for Thimphu and Paro. You can get a permit for other towns at Thimphu.

Getting around

Taxis charge around ₹2,500 for day trips between towns. Longer trips, like Thimphu-Bumthang, will cost more.

Tip

At Bumthang, buy Bhutanese gouda and organic honey — the latter with a flavour of bananas (!). Bumthang is also where you must taste nakey or fern datshi.

Radhika P Nair is a Bengaluru-based writer

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