Day 1, Kathmandu

April 23, 2009

India is a large country. Although I am certainly proud of this fact on most occasions, today it seemed painful to be living here. I chose to go to Nepal because it is our neighbor. A neighbor, to reach whose capital city it took me eleven hours (there were times when I had reached Amsterdam from Hyderabad faster than this!). And what a journey it was! The Hyderabad to Delhi flight pilot made me wish that I wasn’t born. And the Delhi to Kathmandu flight pilot made sure that my 150 buck sub that I had for lunch between the two flights came out of my guts in the reverse direction. If I had the power, I would make these pilots drive through Hyderabad on a motor bike through the whole summer.

I landed in Kathmandu at about 4pm IST (Nepal happens to be 15 minutes ahead of us) and was received by my travel agent at the airport. He was not only amicable but treated me with all the respect given to a firangi traveler.

By the time I checked in to the hotel, dropped off my luggage in the room and tried to wipe away every speck of dust visible to my naked eye while drawing a comparison between this hotel and the ones back home, I was ravenous. So I decided to venture out.

What I experienced while walking the streets of Kathmandu for the very first time surprised me. This place is so much like any Indian city, yet so different. I have been to quite a few cities in India, yet I haven’t found sidewalks lining both sides of the road in any of those cities. I was also surprised to see that almost every other person on the street looked like my neighbor back home. I guess I expected everyone in Nepal to look more or less like Danny Danzongpa.

The youth in Kathmandu is a perfect combination of western culture and Indian tradition. They are religious yet extremely fashionable. The temples here are swarmed by college goers and you seldom find teens without the sindhoor on their foreheads. Yet the way they dress and walk beats their counterparts in most Indian cities. They are not brand conscious, but they know how to carry themselves. And the best part is that no one bothers to even look at you. So wear what you want to and do what you feel like, and be at peace.

After walking the crowded market streets for about an hour, hunger and fatigue took over me and I headed back to my hotel. It was then that I discovered that all star hotels are the same when it comes to food and bathrooms. They all have tiny bathrooms and mysterious showers. They serve ridiculously expensive and extremely bad food (your mother being a great cook doesn’t always help, you know!). Yet, need makes you do things you never thought being capable of. So I showered in their tiny bathroom, ate their ridiculously expensive food and went to bed.

Day 2, Kathmandu

April 24, 2009

Durbar square, I have been told, is the centre of Kathmandu. Primarily, it is a collection of ancient temples, mostly built in the Pagoda style. Some are two to three stories high with stairs leading to the top directly. Get to the top of any of them, and you get the view of the entire square around.

Now, the interesting thing here is that these temples are not just places of worship, but, when closed, are also used by Kathmandu’s youth as public spaces. I found groups of young people hanging out in this square and also in many other spots throughout the city. I found this refreshing. People just sitting back and relaxing while watching life pass by seemed liked a nice idea… until I met a Thanka painter who thinks that ‘too much of anything is bad’. Apparently, people here are so laid back that they are almost complacent with whatever little they have and never think of achieving. And this results in the overall underdeveloped state of this little mountain country. Two sides to a coin….!

Another thing that caught my attention in the Durbar square was the Kumari temple. According to my guide, Nepalis choose a young girl (between the ages of 5 and 7) through a series of rigorous tests to worship her as the Living Goddess. This Kumari temple is her living quarters and also the place where public comes to worship this little girl. Now, the strange thing is (at least, I thought so) that the girl is never allowed to go out of her temple. She lives, grows up and receives education in the Kumari temple. From what I understood, the only time she ever leaves her quarters is during festivals when she is carried around in a chariot in the city. All in all, the Kumari is never allowed to set foot on land/earth. Unfortunately (!), the girl gets to be the Living Goddess only till she starts menstruating. After that, the post is filled by another eligible girl. I found the whole concept extremely amusing. But what’s better, when inside the temple, I caught a glimpse of the Kumari when I looked up at the floor she lives in. This, my guide said rather jubilantly, is considered a sign of good luck for me. Paisa vasool…!

From Durbar square I proceeded to visit other places of significance in Kathmandu, like Swayambhu, Pashupatinath and Bouddhanath, etc. I was fascinated by these temples and monasteries, and their architecture. I thoroughly enjoyed the new experiences these places offered me, while trying to absorb as much information as I could.

But to me, the city and its people were far more amusing than these 'tourist spots'.

I am a true Indian to the core. So the roads here mustn’t surprise me. But they did.... by being almost absent. Most of the city is connected by muddy and gravel filled paths which serve as roads. The cars here seem to be all used ones and surprisingly, I didn’t recognize the manufacturers of even half of the cars here. The public transport here is not just for the public, it is also by the public. It seemed that anyone with a minivan could put up a board and carry people around. I found it quite amusing to see neatly dressed young women wearing little masks over their noses and mouths traveling in battered auto rickshaws.

The bikers extremely interested me. Very few are found without helmets. They queue in long lines in front of gas stations to get their bikes fueled. I counted at least 50 heads in front of a gas station today, waiting patiently in ONE line for their turn, with at least a foot’s gap between every two bikes.

There is something charming about the nature of Nepali people. I went to a local café for lunch and was pleasantly surprised to learn that they employ physically challenged as a means to support them. Noble, innit?

Day 3, Pokhara

April 25, 2009

I took an early morning flight to Pokhara. The plane was barely the size of our APSRTC bus and the flight lasted for just over 20 minutes. It was one of the best flights I have ever had though. The flight was smooth and the Himalayas were visible from the window through the entire duration of the flight. It was a beautiful sight - Snow capped mountains glowing bright in the sunlight.

But the view lasted only while I was flying over the clouds. Once on solid ground, the visibility was reduced due to the cloud cover and I couldn’t see the Himalayas as well as I had hoped.

Pokhara is a little town near the foothills of the Annapurna range of Himalayas. This town is much smaller and cleaner than Kathmandu. Unlike Kathmandu where the houses are built mostly out of exposed red brick, the houses here are built of locally available tiles and stones. Even to an untrained eye like mine, the quality of construction was distinctly visible as being superior to that of an average Indian house.

I started my day with a trip to the less known Begnas Lake. Half an hour away from Pokhara, this lake stretches over several acres and is surrounded by hills on all sides. Except for the Himalayas visible vaguely over the horizon, this lake and the surrounding forests resemble the Paapikondalu in AP to a great extent. There were barely any tourists, giving me the peace I like. There were a few locals swimming and partying near the lake. I rented a small canoe and rode into the lake. As I went further away from the bank, the silence grew deafening. Yet being the rare commodity it is, I thoroughly cherished the silence.

After spending about three hours on the lake, I went back to the town of Pokhara and I headed straight to the lake side raod. This part of the town is near the Pokhara Lake and was swarming with tourists. Every other face was that of a foreigner and every third house I crossed was a guest house. Some foreigners seemed to be actually living here. Walking along the Lake Side Road, I discovered that Pokhara is primarily a destination for trekkers and mountaineers. There were several agencies offering treks of various sorts. The street was lined with several cafes offering continental food.



Later on, I convinced my guide to ditch the car and get his bike, and show me the lesser know places in Pokhara frequented by the locals. He obliged and we were soon on our way to the other side of the lake. I visited some unconventional spots and enjoyed some quiet near the lake.

Day 4, Pokhara and Kathmandu

April 26, 2009

I don’t remember when was the last time I began my morning with such a beautiful sight as I did today. I went to Sarangkot and spent my morning watching the sun rise from behind the mountains. I was awed watching the Himalayas materializing in front of me as the sun rose higher in the sky. But my excitement soon died as I discovered that during this time of the year the visibility is poor because of the fog hanging over the valley and one can barely make out the presence of the huge snow-capped peaks lining the horizon. I had to satisfy myself with the obscure image of mountain range and head back to town.

As I had my breakfast in my hotel, it occurred to me that I was encouraging globalisation - An Indian, eating French toast and omelette in a hotel at the foothills of Himalayas in the country of Sherpas and Gurkhas.

I spent the rest of my morning in the town of Pokhara. I must admit that I felt rather conscious. The people here with their petite physiques, perfect figures, flawless skin and glowing hair gave me a complex. I couldn’t even carry off the tourist look because I don’t have the advantage of foreign tourists and look more like a local. I also noticed that I felt like a giant around the locals, taller and stronger (a lot of people actually asked me if I am into sports fulltime) than most people here.


Firangi tourists can be categorised into two groups. The younger ones are usually alone or with a partner, generally taking time off work or study and backpacking, probably showing interest in activities like trekking and rafting. They live in cheap hotels or guest houses, use the public transportation to get around and spend time reading books at local cafes. They are primarily here for the experience of living in a place like this. The older ones, however, are here to visit and travel in groups. They put up in star hotels, have a guide and a bus exclusively for themselves and tour the city’s most important places taking pictures.

After a morning of musings and cursing myself for choosing the wrong time to come to Pokhara (I couldn’t see the Himalayas at all), I returned to Kathmandu in the same plane that brought me here yesterday.

From the Kathmandu airport, I went straight to Bhaktapur. The same guide that showed me around Kathmandu the day before yesterday picked me up from the airport and drove me to Bhaktapur. I had thought the roads in Kathmandu were bad. But I soon discovered that the roads around Kathmandu were worse. There was a thick layer of brown coloured dust over the entire stretch of the road.


By the time I reached Bhaktapur, I felt dirty (literally, not figuratively). I could taste dirt in my mouth and feel it on my hands. But I tried to ignore it and focus on what I had come to see. Bhaktapur is an old town, the capital city of one of the kings in the past, and is full of temples, squares, alleys and old houses. It reminded me very much of Italia.

My dinner was a special treat from my travel agent. We went to an old Nepali house turned restaurant for authentic Nepali food. I can’t say that I was looking forward to it because by then I had a vague idea of what Nepali food tastes like (it is so difficult being a masala loving Indian). But I wanted the experience more than the food. I wasn’t disappointed. The place was neatly decorated and was full of firangis. We were entertained with Nepali dances and folk songs. I barely touched my food but just out of sheer curiosity, tried the Nepali vine offered to me. I reckon that I barely had a few drops of the drink. My throat started burning and I could actually feel the heat coming out of my ears. It is so much easier to be a non alcoholic. My fellow guests seemed to be having a good time. For the last dance of the night, most of the guests joined the dancers on the floor. After a little hesitation, I threw caution to wind and joined them. I am on a holiday after all. What is the point if my senses don’t take a leave like I did?

Day 5, Kathmandu to Gangtok

April 27, 2009

My next stop is Gangtok. I left Kathmandu on an early morning Buddha Air flight. This plane was slightly larger than yesterday’s and perhaps the only one I have seen so far in which the luggage compartment separates the passengers from the cockpit. Contrary to all fears the flight was extremely smooth, so much that I could have asked the pilot to marry me!

I landed in Biratnagar. This is a small town in Nepal, close to the border of Bihar. And hence it is more Bihari than Nepali. The airport arrival lounge (!) was like a typical ladies waiting room in a remote railway station in India. Tricycle rickshaws were lined up outside the airport. Fortunately, I made my arrangements before leaving Kathmandu and Rikesh, an old acquaintance and a tour operator from Gangtok, was waiting for me when I landed.

Gangtok is about 8 hours by road from where I landed. I am not a big fan of long journeys in cars. And today’s drive didn’t help me alter my opinion in anyway. The weather was hot and humid. The AC in Rikesh’s Alto was broken. Since the highway was closed we had to drive through the town of Biratnagar and not surprisingly, the people were extremely inconsiderate to the traffic on road, thus making our journey all the more painful. Nothing would make them budge from where they were sitting or driving, which is usually the middle of the road.

Things got better once we crossed Siliguri. The terrain changed and I could see that we were approaching hills. We were driving through thick forests and I was praying that some wild animals would make an appearance for me on the road.

We had stopped in Siliguri for a short break. I couldn’t resist the temptation of pani puri I found along the highway and forced Rikesh to stop. Although it lacked the tang I usually find back home, the puchka helped me revive my taste buds. Rikesh warned me that driving on mountains could make me dizzy and therefore advised me to take Avomine. There was a time, not so long ago, when I used to be airsick, and Avomine was my cure. But I know the side effects of this tiny pill and was reluctant to resort to it again. After some hesitation I decided that it was definitely better to sleep through the journey than to puke.

The pill started taking effect me at around lunch time when we had stopped at a local restaurant about 50km from Gangtok. I vaguely recollect the remaining journey, driving at no less than 80kmph and reaching the hotel. I did notice that the hotel was unlike any that I have so far put up in. It was very Sikkimese in style. I dropped my luggage and immediately crashed. I barely managed to make it to dinner in the hotel. I had local food, rice and curries. I was surprised to note that, like back home, the staple food here is rice and not roti. Even in my sleep driven state, I noticed how courteous the one man staff in my hotel was. I am looking forward to spending some sober time in Sikkim.

Day 6, Gangtok

April 28, 2009

This is my first day in Gangtok, so Rikesh insisted that I go on a local sightseeing trip in and around Gangtok. I obliged.

Sikkim is almost entirely on mountains. This tiny state survives mainly on tourism. The efforts that the government here is taking to preserve the natural beauty of this place are commendable. Plastic is banned in Sikkim and only paper bags are used here. No outsider can buy land in Sikkim. One can only lease such property for a maximum of 99years. If only everyone was so protective of environment!

Being at an altitude of about 5000ft, Gangtok is a little chilly even at this time of the year, while the mercury is soaring down south. I was enjoying a very pleasant morning when to my horror, I discovered that this is the ‘tourist season’ in Gangtok. And the entire world seems to have taken a certain kind of fancy to this serene hill station, for I encountered hundreds of tourists where ever I went today. And annoyingly, most of them happen to be from Andhra Pradesh. The Telugu people seem to know no boundaries when it comes travelling with their rather large families. I remember encountering similar noisy groups on my trips to Venice and Rome. With the Telugu groups tailing me almost through out the day, the solitude I came so far to seek, seemed to elude me.

I finally managed to shake my tail off, by idling at one of the ‘view points’ for longer than what was necessary. That is when my attention was diverted towards my driver/guide. Busy plotting ways of getting away from the tourists, I had failed to see what a dim witted company I had for the day. He was hardly capable of comprehending what I said, let alone guiding me through the city.

For the nth time, my Dumb Philosophy was proven beyond doubt today. I have a philosophy that it is not the dumb, but those around the morons that suffer the consequences of the deeds performed by these blessed creatures. I refer to them as being blessed because they live in the glory of their ignorance, oblivious to all the misery they cause. Their limited intelligence doesn’t permit them to see the extent of damage their stupidity can create. Meanwhile, it is the more intelligent ones who live to clean up the mess created by their dumb companions.

I have another philosophy that your intelligence reflects in the way you handle various things. Like in your handwriting, for example. This philosophy was also proved to be right today. My dear companion drove the car today as if it were the Sun God’s chariot. It wasn’t being driven as much as being flown. Today, I understood the meaning of the expression ‘like a bead in a tin can’. And why is it that the caution exercised by drivers varies inversely with the altitude at which they drive?

By the time I was done with the day’s touring, I was a mess. Every joint in my body ached and I felt as if I had just been taken out of a blender. I have no idea why God keeps sending such people into my life so often. Perhaps, it is a sign that I should learn to be more patient in life.

My only respite of the day arrived in the form of dinner at a local hub with Rikesh and his fiancé Pavithra. Pavithra proved to be match for Rikesh in wits and is capable of giving a lot of movie stars a run for their money. At first, they seemed like an odd match. Rikesh is an ardent smoker and loves meat. The very mention of meat makes his mouth water. He cannot live without alcohol and was deeply disappointed when he realized that today is a dry day in Sikkim because of the oncoming elections. Pavithra, on the other hand, is a non smoking, non alcoholic, vegetarian. It is couples like these that make me realize that when it comes to love, differences in tastes and opinions are mere trifles.

Thus, I enjoyed a delicious meal in their pleasant company, realizing that this is one of the things I rarely do back home, as all my friends, however few they are, live abroad and therefore I don’t have much of a social life anymore.

Day 7, Nathula

April 29, 2009

After a goodnight’s sleep, I set out to visit the historic Nathula pass this morning. Nathula pass was the primary reason I choose Gangtok to be my next stop on the trip. And I was quite excited on finally getting the chance to strike one item off from my Bucket List.

The pass is a mere 50km from Gangtok. I thought it to be ‘mere’ until I realized that when you are in the mountains, you think in completely different terms. We were barely averaging 20 km an hour, as Nathula pass is located at an altitude of about 14,000ft and most of our journey as uphill. However, this was barely the issue. As we ascended, the road became horrible, making the journey arduous. We soon discovered that most of the route to Nathula from Gangtok was under construction. The men of Border Roads Organisation were braving the cold and making every attempt to make Nathula accessible to all.

As I continued towards the pass, I realized that I wasn’t alone. The same tourist groups I encountered at several locations in Gangtok yesterday soon joined me. The Telugu group struck up a conversation with me when we were forced to wait together in a traffic jam. I couldn’t believe the shock they expressed when I told them that I was travelling alone. ‘Brave girl’ said one of them, shaking his head in disbelief. In fact, I received similar expressions of surprise and shock from several people during my entire trip, not excluding the drivers of the other tourist cars. My driver reported to me that they were jealous that he got the chance to ‘travel light’ while they were stuck with noisy and whining tourists, who complain that 40 rupees for a plate of Maggi is outrageous, conveniently forgetting that they are at an altitude of 12,000 feet.

Finally, after abusing my body for three hours, we reached the last check post 4km away from the border. This is where the bad news was delivered to us. Due to a land slide that occurred last night, the pass was closed to public (I wonder why the land decided to slide only in that last 4km stretch when there were much more dangerous spots through the rest of the route from Gangtok?). The tourists were enraged. They had come from faraway places and invested quite a bit of money in this endeavor. What they did not realize was that the whole area is Defence property and they have a right to refuse admission any time they wish.

I, though disappointed, did not despair. I have lived enough to learn that it is always wiser to cherish what life offers you than to crave what it doesn’t. Nathula was beautiful, surrounded by snowcapped mountains on all sides. The scenery that I was treated to en route the pass was breathtaking. The Tsomgo Lake, at an altitude of about 10,000ft, mesmerized me. I spent most part of my day in the clouds, literally. I couldn’t help being awed at the beauty and intricacy of God’s creation. From what I could see around me I learnt that life in mountains is very different from that in the planes. These men and women literally live on the edge, braving the cold, landslides, the snow and the dangerous roads.

My journey wasn’t futile. I had no complaints.

Day 8, Gangtok

April 30, 2009

Thunder woke me up at 5am. Being my lazy self I went back to bed and woke up at about 8 when I discovered that the previous night’s rain had brought a cloud cover over entire Gangtok reducing the visibility to almost zero.

It’s Election Day in Sikkim. So I got the day off.

They say that the best way to know a city is to walk it and that is what I did in Gangtok today. After a good night’s sleep I took off at about 10 in the morning and started walking the streets. Pretty soon I discovered the reason for the petite figures of natives of this part of the country. The roads here either go uphill or downhill and hence, to walk on the roads here you need to exert extra effort as compared to the plains. If you live on the mountains since your childhood, you get so much exercise even without asking for it, that there is no way for you to put in that extra flab around your waist.

I heard that every important city in this country has a street named after the Mahatma. So does Gangtok. The only difference here is that on the MG Marg in Gangtok vehicular traffic is not allowed. It is built exclusively for pedestrians. This street is so European that it reminded me of the area around Pathe in Eindhoven. It is neatly decorated with flowering plants of various kinds and has benches for people to sit on and spend some time. This is exactly what I did. I sat there for three hours reading Frankenstein and watching the crowd pass by. This is something that I miss in Hyderabad. In Indian cities, we do not have the concept of public spaces. The only places that I can think of in Hyderabad where I can sit alone and read a book are the parks. And everyone knows what parks in Hyderabad are famous for – joggers and lovers.

My night, however, wasn’t as pleasant as my day. Rikesh, Pavitrha and I were supposed to go out to dinner. To our dismay all the restaurants in the town were closed because of the elections and as a last resort, we went to one of the star hotels here. As always, they served bad food. They even served the wrong food. For pasta layered with spinach, they brought us spinach layered with pasta and vehemently argued that it was what we asked for. As a follow up for our disastrous dinner, the weather got worse and it started raining, thus putting a dismal end to the evening.

Day 9, Gangtok to Phuentsholing

May 01, 2009

When I first arrived in Gangtok, I had to decide where to go next. I had a choice between North Sikkim and Bhutan. For obvious reasons, I chose the latter.

It takes 12 hours to reach Thimpu from Gangtok by road. It is the usual practice for tourists taking to this route to stay overnight at the border town of Phuentsholing (also known as Jaigaon in the Indian side of the border), since one needs a permit to enter Bhutan which must be obtained from the immigration office at the border.

It took me 7 hours to reach Phuentsholing in Rikesh’s battered Alto. The drive was a pleasant initially. The scenery was breathtaking, with beautiful green jungles covering the mountains along the path and clouds hovering just above our heads. However, as we approached the border, the mountains disappeared and we were on the plains again. And the roads got worse and so did the weather. It found it hard to believe that the road we were travelling on was the International highway to Bhutan.

We reached Jaigaon a couple of hours after my usual lunch time at 4. Jaigaon looks like a regular town in India, except for the presence of special military forces reminding you of the fact that you are only a few feet away from a different country. The first checkpoint is a few kilometers after crossing the border, up to which point one can walk freely without requiring any permit. So for lunch, we decided to walk across the border. I was surprised to see that there was a considerable difference in culture and the atmosphere on the other side of the border.

I spent the evening walking on the other side of the border. Though Jaigaon is on plain ground, I discovered that the terrain changed the instant I crossed the border and moved over to Bhutan. It is not difficult to see that while Jaigaon is flat, Phuentsholing is hilly. I found a nice view point on the highway to Thimphu from where I could watch the town below me twinkle in the night and spent some time taking in all the fresh air and silence I could get.

Day 10, Phuentsholing to Thimpu

May 02, 2009

My journey to Thimpu began at 1pm. After abusing my body in battered cars for more than a week, I finally got the luxury of a brand new Swift for my trip to Thimphu. I got lucky with the driver too. He is calm, doesn’t speak unless spoken to, drives responsibly and knows the country.

Unfortunately, just like Nathula, the road to Thimpu was under construction. It seemed to me that the whole world is under construction. Though the car is new, because of bad roads we were horribly slow, barely averaging 30 kilometers every hour. But as they say, the journey is more important than the destination. Since I was in no hurry, I tried to focus on what was around me rather than on the road.

As soon as we crossed border in Jaigon and entered Phuntsoleing, we started ascending a hill. I soon discovered that Bhutan is almost entirely located on mountains and is covered with thick jungles. As has become common to me over the last few days, we were driving through clouds for most part of our journey. To my surprise, I found that, although located along the same mountain range as Sikkim, Bhutan is very different from its neighboring state. The mountains here are less steep and hence the roads wider. There are quite a few flat pieces of land where people have the possibility of farming and construction.

Throughout our drive, we encountered several people waiting in the middle of nowhere for a ride from strangers driving by in expensive imported cars (because of the meager import tax, Bhutanese import many cars. You can see more Prados than Marutis.). I reckoned that there was no public transport between towns.

I took the wheel after we crossed the 100km mark to Thimpu, as I find driving far more exciting than being driven. I also wanted to experience the thrill of driving on the mountains, in a foreign country, neither of which I have done before. That’s when we picked up three young boys at about eighty kilometers from Thimpu. I used this opportunity to learn about this country from its native people. Apparently the boys were there to play football as they have no ground in their own school, some 15km from where they stopped our car asking for a ride. They also told me that most Bhutanese drop out of high school, thus leaving a lot of jobs to be filled by foreigners (read Indians). According to them, the education system isn’t strict, like in India. Neither the students nor the teachers have keen interest in studies, as a result of which the youth doesn’t turn out to be competitive or hungry for achieving. When I asked them if they were on Facebook, they drew a blank. Apparently, very few Bhutanese outside Thimpu own computers or are connected to the World Wide Web. What a secluded life these people lead! They are not connected to the outside world, they are happy and content with what they make. At least this seems to be the scenario on the country side. What lies in Thimpu, I am yet to see.

As we approached Thimpu, the road got better. In fact, the last 30km of our drive was smooth as silk because the road was one of the best I’ve seen so far in the Indian subcontinent. I was awed. But more surprise awaited me in Thimpu. The roads here in the city resembled those in Europe. From what little I could see in the dark (it was 8pm by the time I reached Thimpu), I could have been in Italy.

Day 11, Thimphu

May 3, 2009

Planning doesn’t always work. I had everything arranged before I left for Bhutan. At least, I thought so. But I was wrong. After coming here I discovered that nothing is going to happen like I planned. For the nth time it was proven that I should trust no one with things that matter to me.

I was scheduled to go to Punakha tomorrow, Paro the day after and fly out from Paro on the 6th. But it turns out that I need a permit to enter Punakha, which I cannot have because today is Sunday and tomorrow is a national holiday here. So I will have to go to Paro and come back to Thimphu tomorrow, go to Punakha the day after and drive directly to Paro via Thimpu to catch my flight. So much for letting others plan your life!

The agency that arranged my trip to Bhutan told me that my driver was going to be my guide. I soon realized that though a good a good driver, he is a very bad guide. He could only drive me to the important places here in Thimphu but he knew nothing about them. I had no choice but to hire a guide at an extra cost. As if I hadn’t had enough, just when my guide arrived after noon and we started touring the city, it started raining.

By and by, my luck improved and the weather cleared up. My guide turned out to be quite knowledgeable and educated me about the intricacies of Buddhism in practice. My luck got even better when I was at a local 12th century monastery and the princess of Bhutan happened to walk into that place. It was a very unusual hour for visitors and hence I was the only person present apart from the monks, when the royal family walked in. At leisure, I watched the princess offer prayers in the monastery and noted that no one minded her wearing shoes inside the main chamber.

I spent the rest of the day going around the city. This place is very different from any other cities that I have seen so far. It is situated in a valley surrounded by mountains on all sides. For a national capital, Thimphu is very small. It is clean, calm and well organized. There is little traffic and therefore, very less pollution. I think that the lack of pollution can also be attributed to the thick forests covering almost eighty percent of Bhutan. My guide told me that the Bhutanese government tries to maintain its jungles. They even have a Forest Day when every student is given a sapling to plant and the student whose plant grows to be the healthiest is rewarded. The topography of the town reminded me of Banjara Hills back home. There are a lot of points around the city which provide an unobstructed view of the town. These points also serve as hangout spots for the Bhutanese youth.

The only oddity in Thimphu is the presence of a lot of stray dogs. They were omnipresent - at monasteries, on the roads, near houses. But they didn’t look like stray dogs at all. They were healthy, well fed and looked after. I noticed that unlike the usual strays here in India, they are much shorter, well built and have thicker covers.

Day 12, Punakha

May 4, 2009

In an attempt to straighten the mess my agency created, I hired a local Bhutanese car and drove to Punakha even though I didn’t have the permit. Luckily we weren’t stopped anywhere.

Our drive was spectacular. We traversed several hills and travelled through dense forests echoing with the sound of crickets. I was surprised to see that there was a considerable change in vegetation in the surrounding jungles as we moved farther away from Thimphu. The hills grew flatter and were located farther apart, thereby leaving large flat areas in the valleys where people cultivate rice and make homes.

On my way to Punakha, I learnt a lot about Bhutan from my guide. ‘Bhotan’ means the land of mountains. And true to its name, this country is full of mountains covered with think jungles. Flat areas are rare and are utilized for cultivation and dwelling. When you drive in Bhutan, there are many spots along the road where you get a clear view of the valleys below. But when you look up, only mountains are visible for as far as you can see. For a while you think that you can see the sky behind the mountain range in front of you. Yet, when you observe closely, you discover that it is just another set of mountains behind the ones right in front of you.

Bhutanese have what I consider to be excellent road manners. I don’t know if they are required to be so mild on the road because of the danger associated with their roads or if it is inculcated in their nature to be gentle on the road. You rarely see anyone being rash on Bhutan’s roads. If you do see one, you can be sure that they are from India. They drive steadily and let faster vehicles pass even without being asked.

We reached Punakha at around 11 in the morning. The major attraction in Punakha is the Pungtang Dechen Photrang Dzong. The Dzong is located at a point where two rivers merge into one. It was built in the first half of the 17th century by Zhabdrung. He is considered to be father of united Bhutan and coincidentally, today happens to be his death anniversary. There were many locals visiting the Dzong today with their families. The place was specially decorated with a huge Thanka (typical Buddhist paiting), by looking at which, it is believed by the locals that all your sins are washed away.

The weather in Bhutan can at best be described as being capricious. For the second consecutive day, it rained at noon. When the sun shines, it is bright and warm. But when it rains, it is cold and damp, reminding me of my days in Rotterdam. It is also very windy in the valleys where there are no trees or hills to obstruct the flow of the wind.

On the way back from the Dzong, we visited the monastery of the Divine Mad Man. He is called so because of the way in which he preached about the ‘naked’ truths of life. It is believed by the Bhutanese that when visiting a place of religious importance, one should exercise in some form to reach the place. That is why many monasteries are built at a high altitude, thereby forcing people to climb stairs and perspire in the process. Hence, the Divine Mad Man’s monastery is located far away from the highway. There is no motorable road leading to the monastery and thus, we had to walk for about half an hour in the blazing sun to reach it. The wind was so strong and was howling so loudly that I could barely hear what my guide was telling me. But once there, the monastery offered a fantastic view of the valley and the hills around it.

Bhutanese have some rather strange practices. For one, they paint giant penises on the outer walls of their houses to ward off evil spirits. Their offerings to the gods in the monasteries often include junk food. In all the monasteries I visited today, I found rows of Parle-Gs, Lays, and other sorts of biscuits along with regular fruit and other mundane stuff.

Day 13, Paro

May 5, 2009

Technically, this is the last day of my trip. So I decided to test the limits of my physical endurance today by taking a trip to the Paro Taktsang.

Taktsang, or more commonly known as the Tigers Nest, is a monastery in built on a cliff at an altitude of 3100m above sea level. It is built around a cave where Guru Padmasambhava is said to have meditated for a considerable duration in the 7th century. The challenge here is that there is no road to the monastery and the only way to reach it is by foot from the adjoining Paro valley, some 700m below the monastery.

I hesitated for a while when I looked up at the monastery looming precariously an the cliff. My guide warned me that the path is steep, slippery and often dangerous, and that most tourists return midway. But what the hell, you live only once. And I don’t believe in tomorrow. So I decided that I would take my chances and try to make it to the monastery.

As expected, the trek was grueling. It has been years since I worked out and the trek made it very obvious that I am in a bad shape. I stopped to catch my breath after every few steps and found that the only sound I could hear was that of my heart beating in my chest. But I was utterly glad that it was still beating, because at one point I thought I was going to die. No, I knew I was going to die. I ached, I perspired and I whined. Yet I kept going on because I wanted to do it, for myself. I needed to know that I am still capable of doing what I set my heart on, that I am just as adamant and perseverant as I was when I took on life ten years ago.

Two hours after we started at the base camp, we were inside the monastery, just before closing time. I was triumphant, tired and awed.

But that wasn’t the end of the story. I had thought going up was much harder than coming down. I soon discovered how wrong I was. As I descended the mountain after offering my prayers at the monastery, I could barely walk as my legs were trembling under my own weight. Curse McDonalds and Pizza Hut! After another two arduous hours, I made it back to the spot where we left our car in the valley below. Alive and kicking. Actually, I could barely walk, leave alone kick.

There were other places that I was supposed to visit today after the Taktsang. But I had neither the time nor the energy. I did manage to go to the Rinpung Dzong though. I limped around for a while and headed for my hotel.

On the way, I called home and learnt about the upheaval going on in Kathmandu. Later my driver told me that the day after we left Jaigaon, there were riots among the local groups and there was a curfew in the town. It seems like I am turning every place I am going to upside down and getting out just in time.

Day 14, Paro to Hyderabad

May 6, 2009

I began my journey home from the world’s most challenging airport.

I took the Drukair flight from Paro to Kathmandu. Just like the hotel I stayed at last night, the plane to Kathmandu was full of firangis. Both at the hotel and in the plane, I was the only colored person. During our flight to Kathmandu, we were treated to a spectacular view of the Himalayas and the Mount Everest. Everyone on the flight was so excited to see the Everest that at one point I could feel the plane tilt to the right.

After a stopover at Kathmandu, the same plane took me to Delhi, from where I caught the 4pm Spice Jet flight to Hyderabad. I am averse to flights. And taking three flights in one day is something I haven’t done before. I was almost sick and dizzy by the time my plane took off in Delhi. To make things worse, I had extremely annoying neighbors on the flight home. The guy sitting next to me and his female colleague relentlessly discussed everything on earth – food, politics, people and his wife. The girl was a stereotype - loud, incessant and completely oblivious to the inconvenience she was causing to everyone around her. I’m sure she is a bad driver too. I was extremely relieved on landing in Hyderabad, I don’t remember being so happy to see the Shamshabad airport before. And after a painfully slow two hour drive, I was home.

Thus ended my trip. I took eight flights, travelled some 1000km by road and 7000km by air, all in two weeks. I abused my body with battered cars and bad roads. I missed seeing the Himalayas from Pokhara and Gangtok because I went during the wrong season. Despite several efforts, I couldn't visit the Indo China border at Nathula because of the landslide. Yet, I am happy. I visited several places, met a lot of interesting people and learnt innumerable things about the culture of my neighboring countries.

But more importantly, I rediscovered myself.