Hypnotic Himalayas

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UNDATED -- Animals still cart most of the loads in a land where there is still little accommodation for automobiles. (SUPPLIED) FOR POSTMEDIA NEWS TRAVEL PACKAGE, JANUARY 9, 2012. (POSTMEDIA)

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POSTMEDIA NEWS Tourists have only been able to visit Eastern Bhutan in the past year or so but modern highways are coming soon. At right, animals still cart most of the loads in a land where there is still little accommodation for automobiles. (POSTMEDIA)

The Drukair Airbus glided smoothly to the runway of Guwahati, on the plains of Assam, India. My daughter, son-in-law and I were the only passengers to disembark along with an Indian couple -- he reminded me of a young Omar Sharif and she was elegant in sari. The 60 or so other passengers went on to Paro in west Bhutan. Perhaps they had read the guide books warning to only visit Eastern Bhutan if you have a sense of humour and are prepared for a lack of hot water and western toilets or maybe because tourists could only exit Guwahati -- not enter -- until the last year or so.

The small airport building was guarded by an armed soldier in com-bat dress and inside were two officials in crisp, white uniforms, tall and distinguished and somewhat aloof. An attractive young woman in western dress came forward to help us while immigration officers scrutinized our Canadian passports and Indian visas at length. Finally we were free.

Our journey to Eastern Bhutan in the land of the Thunder Dragon had begun.

We were definitely alone. Then we happily spotted our guide and driver from Bhutan Scenic Tours. They were not in their traditional gho, the national dress code as they were "on holiday," having driven four or five days over the winding and sometimes treacherous Himalayan road to meet us.

Our Indian escort drove us three or four hours to the Bhutan border through village after village in traffic that made our Vancouver rush hour seem like a walk in the park. We crossed the Brahma River, one of the three most important rivers in the world.

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We continued on bumpy gravel roads, dirt roads and finally to see the splendid highway linking New Delhi to Guwahati. And back again to our road, the only road to Bhutan.

We felt very thankful we could explore Eastern Bhutan before the highway is completed and also before the new airport is built in Bumthang, the most easterly city of central Bhutan.

The landscape began to change from the dry plains and sparse forests of India to the rolling landscape and lush jungles of Himalayan foothills. "Welcome to Bhutan!" our guide exclaimed.

Our first trip came about because we were intrigued with an article in the Vancouver Sun by Mike Grenby about a magical kingdom in the Himalayas that has one foot in the past and one foot in the future and measures its GNP by happiness -- GNH -- where there were no roads until the '60s when Nehru and his daughter Indira Gandhi visited from India on horseback and later sponsored the first road that now joins the west to the east.

Bhutan is now one of the youngest democracies in the world, if not the youngest. The present king -- the People's King -- ascended the throne in 2005 and voluntarily moved the country from an absolute monarchy to a democracy by 2008. He is smoothly advancing the kingdom into the future -- one of his plans being to have roads (and electricity) to every village -- many still only accessible by trails.

Attempting to be both ecologically aware and health-conscious, Bhutan has both banned plastic bags and the import of tobacco (except for tourists' personal use). Signs have also appeared along roads leading to secondary schools warning of the dangers of multiple partners. When TV was introduced a few years ago, a speech from the throne advised the Bhutanese to benefit from the good and beware of the harmful.

This, our second journey, was inspired not only by the majesty and grandeur of the Himalayas, the over-whelming beauty of the countryside but also by the friendliness of the people whose spirituality embraces their lifestyle.

The border town of Jandrop Jack-hor, Eastern Bhutan was our first stop. The Mountain Hotel was a heavenly retreat after our long journey and a couple of sleepless nights. There was an intriguing restaurant and even a bar we were too tired to try.

The torrential rain, electrical storm and blackout added to the mystery of it all. However, a view of the Royal Bhutan Police building was most comforting. We felt further reassured in our travels as our driver had formerly been with both the military and the police.

The next day we travelled the route our guide and driver had taken to meet us -- twisting and winding on a steep, rugged hillside. Looking back to where we had been, our road looked like a mountain-goat trail high above the valley floor dotted with an occasional farmhouse or garden. It was one of the most dramatic roads in the country, where at one point it ascended 3,200 metres in a distance of 84 kilometres. At one of the many curves, a sign reads: Life is a Journey -- Complete it.

Our road then climbed to the village of Narthong, where we had our midday meal. Strolling down through a farmyard, past children playing, we found our lunch spot hidden away and accessible only by an extremely steep ladder. It was certainly worth the climb! We were the only guests in a spacious colourful living room with a tempting and delicious hot buffet prepared just for us.

Our most easterly destination was Trashigang, where the rooms faced a large, sunny courtyard -- dining was outside at a long table shared with half a dozen other guests with Nordic, Spanish and American accents. We explored the countryside, visiting craftsmen in hard-to-find homes making wooden bowls, bows and arrows and even paper, using ancient techniques.

The highlight was Gomphu Kora the sacred sight for meditation where Guru Rinpoche, who introduced Buddhism to Bhutan, slew the serpent. Founded in 1510, the temple/monastery is in a magnificent location with large boulders blending into the grounds, beautiful landscaping where roosters roamed and colourful prayer flags soaring skyward. Further on, we rested in the shade, on a canyon rim high above a surging river. The peace and tranquillity of Bhutan finally enveloped us.

We travelled to Mongar the next day, winding through hills with pines and lemon grass. We'd pass by small farmhouses, the wooden shake roofs held down with big rocks, and by women in traditional kira, often with babies on their backs, sweeping the roadside.

The town itself is on a hill with eucalyptus trees protecting it from the wind. We wandered the old town in search of kiras (skirts) and jackets, past little shops with chilies drying in baskets in the sun. Inside one shop, there were stacks of eggs on the counter, sacks of rice and grains by the door. Neatly folded on shelves were what we were looking for. While trying on jackets, we suddenly turned to see half a dozen children's faces peering in, pressed against the window frame. In leaving, a friendly Bhutanese said we were the most exciting thing in town.

Before we left, my daughter and her husband with guide and driver travelled several hours to the base of the trail to the weaving village of Khoma. Crossing a footbridge, leaving the refreshing river behind, they hiked for over an hour up a hot, steep, dusty side hill. Their prospects of finding this remote site seemed bleak, until finally a villager driving a Kaboda tractor with cart came along giving them a wild and bumpy ride to the village. Luckily, communication was not a problem as our international guide spoke several languages as well as the Bhutanese dialects including the Scharcop (the eastern dialect). The houses, grouped together along a winding pathway, were built of wood and stone, all with steep ladders leading to the living spaces. Invited into the home of an accomplished weaver, they sat spellbound watching the women nestled by the window leaning into her backstrap loom, fingers a blur as she wove brocade in intricate patterns, beautifully executed, the design in her head. Life in the village seemed dreamlike, although basic, a relaxed happy existence prevailed. Hopefully a vehicular bridge across the river won't change that.

The early-morning drive going west was refreshing, winding along the mountainside looking down on terraces of rice and potatoes. We climbed through forests with waterfalls, mossy rocks and huge ferns somehow clinging onto the sheer cliffs. We continued on through forests of ancient spruce with old man's beard floating down from their craggy branches, the occasional rhododendron brightening the scene. Bits of melting April snow appeared at the edge of the road along with the sign -- "You are now at the highest point and the official border of east and west Bhutan. Our road is definitely the most dramatic in the country."

We reluctantly left the east -- old Bhutan -- only to pledge our return next year to celebrate my 90 years.

-- Postmedia News

Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition February 18, 2012 D4