Thimphu to Paro
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| Old man with prayer wheel and prayer beads |
1st
April
At breakfast I requested toast but there
was no bread left; I decided that one more puri would do the trick but the waitress
insisted on bringing it, and it was a Bhutanese size serve – at least twice as
much as I needed.
I was quietly enjoying my own company when
an Indian man from the adjacent table asked “may I sit and talk to you?” It seemed rude to say no, and it appeared,
after 10 minutes or so, that I now have a new close friend.
There was a fresh sprinking of snow on the higher
peaks after yesterday afternoon’s very icy weather. I had started to feel quite cold on my walk back to the
hotel from Tashichho Dzong.
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| One of Thimphu's lovely buildings |
I went out to walk, heading for the weekend
market and paused to photograph buildings and snowy peaks. An old man, with his prayer wheels and
prayer beads, crossing the road must have thought I was going to photograph
him, and stopped until I did.
I diverted via Zangto Pelri Lhakhang and
spun the numerous large prayer wheels for my friends who are not in such good
health.
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| Zangto Pelri Lhakhang |
Walking around the market I thought how lovely it would be able to cook my own meal and buy some of those wonderful
vegetables!
I met a Lobesa family at the market but did
not recognize the students from class 5 (and one I had not taught from class 8)
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| Chillies at the weekend market at Thimphu |
I walked along the river to a small park. 2 young boys in the park called “Hello
Auntie” – which could have served as a warning, young boys do not usually
address me as “Auntie”, but it is a sufficiently respectful form of address for
me to respond – and they immediately pointed at the ground by my feet in horror
and when I looked down, called “April Fool!” Cute. I told
them they still had 53 minutes to call others April Fool, but not to do it
after midday!
I had lunch at Spices Restaurant and
enjoyed a spicy wrap – I cannot remember what it was called, but it was rather
delicious and nutritious.
Then I returned to the Khamsum to wait for
my lift, which was scheduled for sometime after lunch….
It materialized in due course and my
suitcase and backpack were installed in the rear of the car, after everything
else had been pulled out and in due course restacked on top. The I needed to wait for my 2 other
passengers; that was quicker than
I had expected and we left reasonably promptly.
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| Buddha Statue at the riverside park |
The 2 young men who were my co-passengers
in the rear seat were chatting between themselves in Dzonkha but I picked up
“class teacher” and “hostel” and a couple of other school related terms and
asked if the were still studying.
Yes, they were repeating year 12 at a private school in Paro, having
“not qualified” the previous year.
Repeating in a government school is not permitted at year 12, and only
those whose parents can afford the fees get the opportunity for a second
chance.
They were dropped off and my driver
immediately picked up another passenger, and then a family of 3 – all of whom
squished into the back seat of this tiny vehicle. So much for “there are only 3 passengers for my journey” but
I guess that a fare is a fare and the taxi business here is probably as cut
throat as it is at home, and apart from the overpowering smell of doma from one
of these new passengers, I was not really impacted – and that aroma was managed
by the driver who opened his window wide!
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| Covered bridge of the Wang Chhu leading to the weekend market |
After inquiries at the taxi rank, my driver
headed with me further up the road and asked if I knew the location of the
hotel. I denied any such knowledge
but spotted the sign on the next building. Without being asked, he carried my bags inside, which at
least gave me the opportunity to double check that I was registered here before
he disappeared.
This was a much newer version of the
Khamsum Inn at Thimphu – and the rooms are much fresher. The dining room menu looked the same
and I elected to find myself dinner elsewhere.
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| Outdoor Gym in Thimphu's riverside park |
In the meantime, a walk; I was unsure about whether I would be
allowed to visit Dumtse Lhakhang, but the chap on reception assured me I could,
and although the caretaker looked a little startled, he did not object and
dispensed holy water after I had performed my prostrations and made my
offering. He did clearly tell me
though that I could not proceed to the inner sanctum when I signaled my query
about this. His “No” may well have
been his only English word, but it worked well.
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| Ripung Dzong, Paro |
From there I circled a chorten, clearly an
important one to locals, and wandered down a footpath beside the river, hoping
that it might connect with the one on the opposite side, possibly via the
footbridge access to the Dzong. I
had not factored in the confluence with another river from another valley, nor
the Bhutanese factor that a nice paved walkway neither needs to start or finish
at a significant point. I enjoyed
the return walk also and was rather delighted to receive quite a formal
greeting from a young man who appeared to be up to some small mischief on a
raised section of river bed some distance away.
I paused on my return walk for a few
photos; storms were brewing in
both valleys and the clouds, mist and glimpses of peaks and snowy slopes made
for some possible good photos.
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| Part of Paro from the balcony of my room at the Paro Khamsum Inn |
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| approaching storm |
At one such point a passing man suggested
it would be a good photo and told me he was heading for the national
museum. I asked if he worked there
but no, he worked as a horseman on treks earning 300Nu a day, but it seemed
that he did not actually own his own horses. His horses had just gone off on a trek on the Druk Path from
Paro to Thimphu and he pointed out the mountains that are close to this
trek. It would be a stunning
trek! We chatted a bit more and
then he asked if he could beg me – this needed a bit of clarification but he
was, yes, asking me for “a small” money.
I gave him 100Nu, figuring that it would more than buy his dinner if
that were his immediate need. If
his figure for his daily wage is accurate, I can only imagine the horseman’s
joy when I trekked in 2015 and tipped the horseman the same as the others – on
the grounds that he had an incredibly important job in getting all the goods
and chattels to the required place on time.
Light was starting to fade as I crossed the
bridge back to the town side of the river and I went looking for somewhere to
get momo for dinner.
There were many shops having "Tsetchu Sales" - Tsetchu having finished the previous day. I was not in the least tempted by their wares, although I did not stop to check.
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| And another storm from the other direction |
In due course, and after trying several
restaurants for momo – 2 did have momo but only beef – one might have some
cheese momo in and hour or so, I decided that I might have to resort to the
hotel menu, and headed back in that direction – very glad of my down jacket and
its waterproof hood and shoulders.
The imminent storms had arrived: thunder, lightening and rain.
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| The national museum and Rinpung Dzong |
I passed a lady sitting with some large
insulated food containers in the meager shelter of a shop verandah and I asked
what she was selling – porridge (noodle soup) and momo – yes, cheese momo! Whoo hoo! 2 plates please and a druk 11000 from the shop a couple of
doors up and dinner was sorted! My
last supper (for the time being at least) would be a delightful picnic in my
hotel room of street food momo and beer.
For the total princely sum of 165Nu. And with a view of the dzong and the national museum lit up
like Christmas trees.
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