Trials and tribulations in the land of the Thunder Dragon

We had very high expectations of Bhutan and were looking forward to going, yet we almost didn’t make it there. We phoned ahead to the airline to let them know that we’d be bringing two bicycles on board and were assured that this would not be a problem at all. But once we walked up to the check-in counter I could already tell from the way the staff looked at our luggage that there would be trouble. And indeed we were told straight away that there was no way our bikes would fit on the plane, which turned out to be not a jet airplane, as promised, but a propeller plane instead. During the discussions and phone calls that followed, I somehow managed to keep a cool head. The end of the story was that we would fly without our bikes, which would be picked up from airport by the Bhutanese travel agent’s representative in Kathmandu, and then be put on the next jet airplane from Kathmandu to Paro, four days later. Leaving our bikes behind in Kathmandu was slightly nerve wrecking, but since all flights to Bhutan were fully booked for the next few days, the alternative was canceling Bhutan altogether. So we took a deep breath, said goodbye to our beloved bikes, and boarded the plane without them.

Bhutan had been on my wish-list ever since I first read about it years ago, not long after it started to emerge from its long, self-imposed isolation. Bhutan had to be one of the highlights of our trip: the last independent Himalayan kingdom, it is also known as The Land of the Thunder Dragon. Some people call it Shangri La, an unspoiled country in a fast modernizing world. And our guidebook boldly declares that it is “a country that you only hoped existed”. It sounded almost too good to be true.

Bhutan actually hasn't been a country for very long. It came into existence about 100 years ago. Back then Bhutan was a British protectorate. At some point, the local administrator of the territory saw an opportunity and decided, with British consent, that Bhutan would become a kingdom. Not surprisingly, he crowned himself the country’s first king. This marked the beginning of a period of stability, but Bhutan lacked many of the institutions that define a country, like a currency, a legal system, schools, and international representation like at seat in the UN and embassies. It may have been precisely the absence of such institutions in Tibet that set the stage for the Chinese take-over there (or its peaceful liberation, depending on who you ask) in 1951, allowing them to argue that they were not invading another country, but just reasserting control over what used to be a Chinese protectorate. Bhutan’s third king may well have feared that Bhutan was next in line for liberation by his well-meaning northern neighbors and promptly started to modernize the country, introducing a national currency, setting up schools, building roads and initiating diplomatic relations, applying for a seat at the UN and, perhaps most importantly in his quest to avoid being liberated by China, cozying up to its big neighbor in the south, India. Other than that, Bhutan remained almost completely isolated from the rest of the world under his rule. Under the fourth king, Bhutan started a very slow process of opening up to the world. The very first western tourists entered the country in the late 70s. Internet and television were introduced in the late 90s. And parliamentary democracy was introduced in 2008, when the current fifth king took over the throne.

There are portraits of the king everywhere, and you also see many pictures of his four predecessors. Sometimes you get the impression that the quantity of a ruler's images and his popularity are inversely related (like in Tibet, where Tibetans’ increased aversion to their liberators seems to have coincided with a sharp increase in the number of Chinese flags in the region, especially on the roofs of Tibetan houses), but I'm pretty sure that the king is genuinely popular in Bhutan. In general, the country is not a bad place to be a high-ranking official. After our flight landed in Paro, a couple of Bhutanese people got off the plane before anybody else and were greeted with a red carpet on the tarmac. We assumed that they had to be part of the royal family, but they turned out to be just high-ranking judges.

As far as I'm aware, Bhutan is the only country in the world with a mandatory national dress code. It was introduced during the early years of the kingdom in order to create some much-needed national identity. For women, it is essentially a long dress. For men, it resembles a bathrobe, which reaches to just above the knee. Therefore, it is complemented by long socks. The design is always the same, but color patterns differ somewhat. By law, everybody has to wear this outfit when working, going to school or attending ceremonies. I had heard about the national dress before and expected that just about everybody would be wearing it. It seems that the majority of people (still) do, but I was also surprised at how many people didn't. It seemed that the further away you got from the capital, Thimpu, the fewer people wore it.

Would you like some more water?

Another distinguishing feature of Bhutan is its use of Gross National Happiness (GNH) instead of good old GDP as a measure of national welfare. Nonetheless, we very quickly found out that, even after almost 30 years of GNH, the profit-motive is still alive & kicking in Bhutan. After a couple of days we found out that our Bhutanese travel agent tried to increase his profit margin by downgrading us to cheaper hotels than the ones we had agreed on when planning the trip. When we told him that we were not very impressed by this kind of behavior he made matters worse by telling us, completely straight-faced, that we should actually be thanking him because these were upgrades. This time I didn’t manage to keep a cool head (nor did I particularly try). At the same time our guide, Chimi, had been going out of his way to buy water for us before we even had a chance to consider doing so ourselves. Being helpful is one thing, but he did this in a way that was completely over the top. He explained to us that tourists were routinely being grossly overcharged in Bhutan when buying bottled water. He repeatedly warned us that we would routinely be charged the equivalent of 1 euro per bottle, while assuring us that the true price was just 50 eurocents. This surprised me for two reasons: first of all, having travelled all over the world, I have never been overcharged for water. Secondly, it seemed to run completely counter to the carefully cultivated image of Bhutan. Wasn't Bhutan all about happiness rather than making money? At the same time, Chimi came across as a very honest and well-meaning guy as well, so we decided not to raise these questions with him and give him the benefit of doubt. It quickly became obvious that this was a surprisingly transparent and silly way to try to make some extra money. The attempt to rip us off was actually so pathetic that it was impossible to be really angry with him. When we confronted him with the fact that we’d been able to get water at 20 eurocents per bottle, Chimi first categorically denied any wrong-doing, then proceeded to sleep on it for a few nights before admitting that he had successfully been tricking tourists in this way for many years and thanking us for our moral guidance in this matter. All of this just goes to show that, indeed, money talks and bullshit walks. Even in Shangri La.

Our first impression of Bhutan, from the airplane window, held no surprises: it looks as clean and organized from the air as it does when you are on the ground. Smoking is banned in Bhutan. Only tourists are allowed to bring a limited amount for personal consumption. In the arrival hall you are warned that failure to declare tobacco products can result in lengthy prison sentences. Nonetheless, some Bhutanese, including our guide, do light up from time to time, just not openly.

Unfortunately, we brought the grey, gloomy weather that had plagued us in Nepal with us to Bhutan. After spending two days in Paro, I proceeded to do the first two biking days of the itinerary – from Paro to Thimpu via the Haa valley - on a rental bicycle. This turned out to be a rather painful experience, because the tip of the saddle kept on slowly moving upwards while biking. This section involved a 3900 meter mountain pass, which we crossed in windy and snowy conditions. Carola had decided to give the low-quality rental bike a miss, and when I arrived down in the Haa valley, shivering and teeth chattering uncontrollably, I wondered if I shouldn’t have done the same. The next day, the weather improved a bit, but the problem that I had with the saddle got steadily worse, so that I was happy to hand in the rental bike once we arrived in the nation’s capital, Thimpu. Compared to Paro, home to the country’s only airstrip and its 3^rd biggest town with about 10 thousand souls, Thimpu is a metropolis with some 200 thousand inhabitants. Yet the place feels decidedly sleepy and is probably one of the few capitals in the world, if not the only one, without a single traffic light. Apparently one was installed a few years ago, but quickly removed after a popular outcry against this untraditional way of regulating traffic.

 

We were relieved that our bikes arrived as planned and in good condition. Once out of Thimpu, heading east over the country’s main road, the road was initially still quite busy but got steadily quieter as the days went by. Biking in Bhutan is a pleasure: the roads are generally pretty quiet and in decent condition. There are some long climbs, the longest that we did was 40 kilometers, but gradients are around 4 to 5%, which is not too steep. You always go either up or down and there are hardly any flat roads. The country is very unspoiled, and there is very little deforestation. It's all very peaceful and pretty, with rolling hills, the Himalayas sometimes visible in the distance and pretty villages. These all in same style – there are very strict architectural guidelines in Bhutan – and prayer flags all over the place as well. Some houses have enormous penises painted next to the main entrance, which is supposed to deter evil spirits from entering. Apparently, the way these look are not subject to government guidelines and, as a result, some of these look pretty creative - see pics further down for some nice examples. Most towns are built around a commanding castle, which nowadays typically houses government offices and/or a monastery.

 

Bhutan is a friendly and peaceful country and you have the place almost to yourself, with only 50 thousand tourists visiting every year. At the same time, the scenery is pretty but not really spectacular: for the most part, the country consists of high hills and low mountains covered in fir trees. If you’re looking for jaw-dropping mountain scenery, you’re definitely better off in Nepal. Also, we quickly realized that we like traveling independently much better than on a pre-set itinerary with a guide (which is mandatory in Bhutan). And the drawback of national dress and building codes is that different parts of the country look a bit similar, just like the landscape. All in all, we thought that Bhutan was quite nice and interesting. But to call it Shangri La? A country that you only hoped existed? Perhaps that’s a bit exaggerated.

Note the sign next to the door

The Bhutanese turn out to get pretty creative when you let them

It's a brave evil spirit that tries to get through that door

After two weeks in Bhutan, we were ready to move on. First to Thailand, to warm up again after almost 2 months in the Himalayas and to spend some time off the bike, and then on to Burma.