Siliguri to Bhutan

Early morning activity below my hotel room

20^th April

My alarm went off at 5:30am and I called reception to order a “packed breakfast” of Aloo Paratha and boiled eggs;  I had discussed “packed breakfast” with the hotel manager the previous afternoon.  It came on a tray, on plates and in bowls, and my inquiry of the young staff member regarding packing was clearly going to go nowhere so I accepted it and transferred it all to a handy zip-lock bag for consumption at the airport.

Siliguri railway station

The area below, which is adjacent to train and bus stations, was busy even at 5:30am, with pedicab drivers snoozing in their seats while waiting for fares, the fast food vendors plying their trade, colourful tuktuks lined up waiting or coming and disgorging ladies dressed in colourful saries.

My taxi was waiting as expected, but he wanted more than had been previously agreed; never mind said the reception staff on duty.  Hmm, had I known they were going to permit that; they would not have got the tip!  The driver is overcharging but had me over a barrel!  There was an additional person, who I questioned, and reception said “extra driver” – for a 10 km ride?  Then “he will drop him”  - who knows where.

fast food vendors

The road was not too busy once we were away from Siliguri junction, so despite the fact that my driver was doing 70kph in a 40 zone, the ride was not too hair raising.

The whole airport check in was a real plethora of separate tasks.  Firstly fill out a form for some reason – perhaps emigration.  Then queue until staff arrived  to scan my check-in luggage scanned before I took it to the check in desk.  This process always amuses me rather, though it does provide more opportunity to question the bag owner than scanning after check in.   

Waiting for a fare

I was questioned regarding a “cellphone in the bag?”  I confirmed there was one there.  I was carrying an old one intended as a gift.  Was it “switched off?” Certainly, and given that it had been in the bag for 7 weeks, undoubtedly could not be switched on before it was recharged!  Though I did not share this level of response with them.

The bag was then secured with electrical ties.  They are going to be interesting to subsequently remove given that anything sharp enough to do so is packed in that bag.

Iron chain suspension bridge
built by Thangtong Gyalpo (1385–1464)

At check in my visa was sent off;  it had looked OK to me, but I asked if there were problems.  No, they were just making a copy; minor sigh of relief!

I then proceeded upstairs to the departure area and sat for a while before a staff member directed others towards Emmigration; I followed.  I was asked why I was travelling to Bhutan – I thought my visa made that clear, but I did provide the information verbally that I was travelling as a tourist and yes, I had travelled through Bangkok previously.  I am not sure whether this is considered a minor crime or was just conversational.

Then I was directed to another officer who apparaently was the Customs official; he looked at my documents and added a stamp to my boarding pass.

Rhododendrons splash red across the forest

Through the security scan – not only does one walk through the gate like thing, but ladies are directed to a curtained cubicle for further scanning with a hand held metal detector;  for men this happens publicly.

I had removed my laptop and fluids from my cabin bag and placed in the tray, but it seems that I was also required to remove my iPad.  I obliged.  This is the first time I have encountered that requirement, including in other Indian airports.

Rhododendron

Finally, I could just sit and wait for my plant to arrive.  I had requested a window seat on the left hand side of the plane, but the flight was coming from another Indian port and was full;  I could have an aisle seat.

I chatted a little with some other passengers, Canadians, and our conversation was interrupted by the landing of military aircraft – complete with parachute braking!  Then later by their takeoff – at an improbably steep angle and with extraordinary noise – even the tarmac staff were covering their ears against this.

Rhododendron

There were only a small number of people boarding this plane, and the boarding call was made by a female staff member quietly walking through the side of the gate lounge announcing that we should board now!

There was little room in the overhead lockers, and a flight attendant asked if he should keep my backpack in business class.  I assented and told him he could keep me in business class also, if he wished.  No response to that one, but he had already moved towards that area!

The ancient trail - worn deep by many feet

Arrival at Paro airport definitely felt like coming home.  Airport formalities over, I scanned the waiting guides/drivers with their signs and found one with my name and had my first meeting with my guide Sonam, who introduced me to my driver Narwang.

It would proved so much easier to me to remember their names than the previous time I was a tourist in Bhutan.  Probably because they are names I am now familiar with.

Narwang’s driving is comfortable, safe, quite slow but he definitely is not indulging in any of the homicidal/suicidal actions that I have seen in the past few days.

Pitcher plant?

They said we were to meet Kezang for Lunch in Thimphu to discuss my trek to Laya – which would now be managed as a one day each way trek as the road goes all the way to the camp between Gasa and Laya – and the campsite is muddy and generally not very nice. 

We renegotiated the stay in Laya to 3 nights, with a night each end in Gasa – that leaves my plans with Phub intact; I can spend Saturday afternoon and night with her.

My plans to do a little shopping were thwarted by the National Election – everything was closed.  That’s a nuisance as I wanted tonic for my duty free gin (déjà vue here) and some fish oil capsules for my joints and iron tablets for my general stamina – anticipating that both might be helpful given 7 weeks of vegetarian food and an upcoming trek to fairly high altitude.

Dochu La

I also needed an ATM so I could pay Kezang for my ticket from Guwahati to Bangkok;  problem.  The ATM not only rejected my attempts to withdraw but blocked me.  I tried 2 other banks but they do not accept my card.  I am hoping the block is temporary, or only that ATM.  I tried another ATM of the same bank but that was off line.  Advice was to wait. 

Lunch was supposedly a traditional Bhutanese restaurant but one that catered for tourists.  The vegetable selection on the buffet was dreadful and the only concession to flavour was a small dish of emma datse.  I even had to ask for ezy to go with the momo.  I am trying to establish that I do not want standard tourist food (or treatment).

Misty trees on Dochu La

There were some other suggestions over lunch for amendments to my itinerary, but since that would not work so well for my friends, I declined.

Galay, who actually came to meet me for lunch said he had iron tablets at his house that I could have, so we dropped him on our way and collected those.

Image of  Zhabdrung Ngawang Namgyel
in meditation cave on Dochu La

We proceded on up to Dochu La, at a very sedate pace, and I elected not to circumambulate the chortens as I was keen to do the nature walk.  But first we checked into the hotel – which proved to be a good idea as I needed to excavate a couple of things from my suitcase and definitely get rid of a substantial number of items from my backpack before hiking.

It was lovely to be welcomed back to the Dochu La Eco Resort and put in the same room that they gave me last time.  Owner Karma responded well to my request to him to organise me clear weather for sunset and sunrise by saying that he would consult with the local deity.

This was my second reference today to the local deities.  I had asked Sonam about the flights to Yongphula – the airport in the east.  They had commenced but a lightening strike had sone some damage so they were suspended again.  I commented that the airport seems fated not to be.  Apparantly the local people are saying the local deity is not happy with the airport.  Not surprising.  One wonders what might be done to appease the local deity.

Rhododendron

Deki, who had previously taken me on a hike to the monsastry up the hill, sporting her new badge labeling her as “hotel manager”, brought a pot of freshly brewed mint tea – made with the fresh herb – to my room while I was getting ready, which was really sweet of her.  I consumed one cup and poured the rest into my drink flask to take with me.

I met Sonam and Narwang back downstairs at the appointed time and we drove up the hill a little to the start of the trail.  I had declined walking back via the road, so Narwang would drive down and meet us there.

The walk was very pleasant.  While some rhododendrons had finished, others were in full bloom.  Sonam has some botanical and ornithological knowledge and I shared with him about Sikkim guide, Abijit’s total lack of botanical knowledge, and he was most comfortable to go along and joke, when he did not know the name of something, that it was a yellow berry bush!

Lhakhang at Dochu La

Not far down the trail we reached a somewhat open area, circled by rhododendrons – mainly red, but some pink – and with an absolute orchestra of birdsong.  My untrained ear picked up at least 4 species but doubtless there were more.   Beyond the rhododendron were spruce, Bhutan’s national tree.

We stood for a while, admiring and listening to this wodnderful concert and Sonam captured a segment of soundtrack on his phone. 

We proceded down the trail, sometimes an easy smooth trail, othertimes rocky or slippery with damp leaves.  At several points the trail sank between two banks, worn down by thousands of feet over the centruries, for this is a portion of the trail that the monk body would use in moving from Thimphu to warmer Punakha for the winter, as well as being the main trail that would be used by those travelling across Dochu La.

The trail has, according to history, religion and mythology (and to this insufficiently informed observer, the 3 seem intricately mixed in this country) been in use since 1611 when Drukpa Kinley, the Divine Madman, chased the demoness from DochuLa and subdued her at what is now a stupa built near Chimmi Lhakhang.  Biannual use of the trail by the monks ceased only in the mid 1970s when a road was constructed over the pass and travel by car was the preferred option.

At one section of trail, which ran particularly deeply between its banks, I remarked what tales the trail could tell, could it only talk!  How many million pairs of feet have passed that way over the centuries?

For a while the trail met the road cutting, but some 40-50 metres vertically above it.  I chose not to go too close to that edge.

We proceded down a section of what was evidently not the main trail, but a more recent (and more precipitious) shortcut to reach a road workers’ camp not far from the Botanical Park, with our vehicle parked nearby.

I requested that we return to DochuLa.  I wanted to walk above the road in the area that has recently been landscaped.  Previously this hillside was opne forest adorned with prayer flags.  Now the government has landscaped the area and banned the fixing of prayer flags – which were not being maintained and removed or replaced as they rotted.  I would have to confess to contributing towards this crime, having tied a short length of prayer flags there after a friend’s father had died, early in 2015.

Sonam asked if I wanted them to come or not – I did not mind, I was easy either way.  He said I should be carefull not to get lost – that would require too much search and rescue.  Yes, it would be tedious!  I had no intention of straying far from the well paved paths that zig zag up the hill, through the existing forest, including its fairly prolific undergrowth of Daphne – now in flower – to a series of meditation retreats that have been constructed.

These “caves” are nicely made, with space for sitting and a painting at the rear of Buddha or one of the other Buddhist saints.

We returned to the hotel around 5, me with thoughts of a hot bath and a drink before dinner to celebrate my return to Bhutan.  Maintenance had to come and fix the water before any ablutions could proceed, but it was an opportunity for a hot drink.  It seems that I am the only guest tonight, so the staff are particularly attentive.

I went down to the dining room about 6:30 to find the staff sitting cosily around the huge bukari – the wood burning stove that warms this enormous space.  They immediately leapt to their feet, removed the towels that had presumably been placed to aid their drying, and rearranged chairs.  I almost felt guilty at disturbing their camaraderie!

I was half way through a Druk 11000 when Sonam came down and I invited him to join me in finishing it, which he happily did.  We toasted the beginning of some adventures together!  But preferably nothing quite as adventurous as my episode in Mangan not long before.  He informed me that police in Bhutan are very polite and gentle with tourists; though I must say, so were the Sikkim police with me. 

I retired early and was very glad to get to bed.