Day Two: Bhutan--From Puesntsholing to Thimphu (Bhutan’s Capital): A Journey into the Clouds.

Saturday, May 9, 2026

Day Two: From Puesntsholing to Thimphu (Bhutan’s Capital): A Journey into the Clouds.

Both Llew and I slept well—probably a result of the dram of peach wine that we had bought at the Bhutan Duty Free shop, the previous night, and which turned out to be super delicious. As early risers, all of us were excited to peep outside our windows and survey the scene below—it was typically Bhutanese, i.e. very foreign. Bhutanese people of all ages and both genders, were circling the temple (Zangto Peri Lakhang) and the wider temple square for their daily morning constitutional. Many had prayer beads in their hands and were clearly using the exercise to pray. Others were turning the massive prayer wheel just below our window—so that periodically, we heard the lovely evocative sounds of the temple bell. Yet, others were feeding pigeons (flocks of them were seated on the temple roof and flying down for an occasional peck), yet others were practicing Tai Chi. The sun gilded the top of the pagoda structure and in the far distance, we could see the mountains that created a beautiful silhouette for the unfolding scene below.

After showers, we had planned to meet the rest of our group downstairs in the restaurant for breakfast. Everyone showed up on time, packed and ready to move on—Puentsholing was only a one-night stopover before our real travels in Bhutan began. In fact, it is interesting to note that Indians are permitted to stay in Bhutan for 24 hours (usually in the border town of Puentsholing) for up to 24 hours without a visa. Many of the residents of India’s border town, Jaigoan and its vicinity, and Bhutan’s Puentsholing and its vicinity, walk across the border, in and out of two countries routinely for shopping and other needs. As the cost of living is much higher in Bhutan, we saw loads of Bhutanese hauling loads of common items such as sacks of onions and potatoes from India into Bhutan for their daily needs.

Breakfast done, we assembled in the hotel lobby at 9.00 am (as instructed by our guide on the phone, the previous evening) and sat waiting for him. He showed up, just a little after 9.00 am, took our passports and told us to wait as he had to deal with our Immigration formalities. We volunteered to go with him; but he informed us that it would be a long wait and we were better off sitting in the hotel lobby. We took his advice and waited. And Waited. And Waited. Yes, we waited for what seemed like forever. By the time he returned to us, it was 11.30 am—we had spent two and a half hours sitting in the lobby at Hotel Park. Occasionally, we walked out into the temple square to stretch our legs, but our impatience levels grew, the longer we were kept waiting. We do wish our guide had collected our passports the previous evening and stood in the line earlier in the morning (if the predicted wait was so long).

Finally! On our Way to Thimphu:

It was an age before our guide returned. This time, he actually introduced himself to us really formally. His name, he said, was Dil Kumar (unlike most Bhutanese, he is a Hindu). He told us that he would be our guide and would stay with us for the next 7 days. He also introduced us to our driver, a wacko character named Chilay (Buddhist) who did not speak English but had very good Hindi proficiency (thanks to the Hindi movies that are addictive in Bhutan). Chilay would also provide us with a few good laughs throughout our trip, while Dil was serious, even morose. I did not see him crack a smile at all during our entire travels. However, he was knowledgeable, fluent in English, conveyed his store of information clearly and easily understood. For all these things, I was very grateful. He was also able to answer all our questions throughout our long drives with him: questions that pertained to Bhutan’s population, its marriage practices, its form of government (a democratic monarchy), its royal family, etc. etc. etc. There was a lot we learned about Bhutan from Dil during our travels.

Before we left and entered the van (a much more spacious van than the previous day had brought us—much to our relief), we were treated to a lovely ‘Welcome to Bhutan’ ceremony that was conducted by Dil in the beautiful front garden of our hotel. It involved the gifting of a traditional white silk stole/shawl to each of us. This was placed in our outstretched arms and had to be draped around our necks by us. As he handed the stole over, Dil uttered a few words (in Bhutanese) of welcome. We were all suitably humbled by such a warm cultural gesture and were not really clear how we ought to react—as such, each of us had different (sometimes amusing) responses. With our stoles around our necks, we then had our baggage packed into our van and began the long journey into Thimphu.

The drive into Thimphu (Bhutan’s capital) introduced us to the fabled beauty of this country. As it is so high up (in the foothills of the Eastern Himalayas), it tends to be shrouded, for a good part of the day, by clouds. As we left Puentsholing behind, we found ourselves enveloped by glorious mountains in multiple shades of green as they are entirely draped by thick forests. Spring was clearly in the air (Bhutan is in the temperate zone) and the cool, clean atmosphere was such a relief for our clogged lungs that have been exposed to the most awful air pollution in India. This break was primarily a treat for our lungs and we breathed in deeply.

Driving in Bhutan is no mean task. While drivers in India have acquired supreme skills in dodging traffic, humans who saunter on to the road, animals who claim highway space for themselves, etc. drivers in Bhutan are experts at negotiating the hairpin bends that are a routine feature in their nation. You need to have very steady nerves to undertake the sharp curves and bends, blind spots, sudden appearance of oncoming traffic and the awareness that, as you climb higher, you have a much deeper valley into which you could tumble. It is not a pleasing thought and we were grateful we had Chilay to do the hard work for us. Initially, we enjoyed the passing landscape as we climbed ever higher. But soon, we had to make a stop at a very popular spot.

Exploring His Majesty’s Armed Forces Memorial Chortens En Route at Chukha:

About 90 minutes into our road trip, we stopped at a wayside venue that offers a really stunning visual treat: a series of seven chortens (stupas or memorial structures) that are highly decorated and really colorful. They depict important stages in the life of the Buddha (founder of Buddhism) through a chain of towering white stupas, each of which holds a small plaque that explains its raison d’etre. High up, perched in a glass window, is a statue of the Buddha in varied poses. The chortens rise in a straight single line and are constructed in the midst of pleasing gardens that were abloom with spring and early summer flowers (azaleas, geraniums, even roses). The site is so visually arresting that it made for wonderful photo ops and we took several—of the chortens and the surrounding gardens. As the plaques are self-explanatory, we did not need the services of Dil to enlighten us. A short stop later, an opportunity to stretch our legs, we were back in the van again.

We stopped once more when we passed by a row of vendors in a bend in the road. Members of our party were attracted by the fresh produce being sold in wayside stalls—some quite unusual, such as fiddlestick ferns, asparagus, fingerling potatoes and artichokes. These are vegetables with which we, in America, are familiar. But they are unfamiliar to most Indians. We also saw a massive amount of chillis in varied shapes, sizes, colors and forms. Chilli is a staple vegetable in Bhutan and is prepared in a number of ways. Of these, Emma Dashi is the most common and familiar—it involves cooking chillis with local cheese (the cheese tempers the fieriness of the chillis). It was really the only Bhutanese dish we had the opportunity to taste on our travels. Some of the versions were really good, others were nothing to write home about. But “Emma Dashi” became our catch word (instead of “Cheese”) every time we posed, as a group, for pictures. This fund of private jokes kept growing as the tour progressed. We did not leave the spot without buying roasted corn on the cob—a tasty treat with its seasoning of garlic, chilli and lime. It kept the hunger pangs at bay as it was lunch time and we were peckish.

Although after a while the scenery gets similar, there are some elements that punctuated the drive that are worthy of mention: we passed a few pretty waterfalls, we made the acquaintance of bands of cheeky monkeys who besieged the road, we crossed over several concrete bridges over gushing rivers beneath us, we drove deep into the clouds (with little visibility—which made for several hairy moments), we saw trees dotted with white flowers like a froth covering them. Occasionally, we passed through segments where road works were in progress—in these stretches, we were reminded of the road work being done on Bandra’s Kantwadi Road—and such bits came to be christened “Kantwadi Road” for us in the van! Yes, by the end of the trip, we had created our own store house of private jokes that would seem funny to no one else but ourselves. These sections were bumpy and uncomfortable and our guide apologized for them.

Stopping for Lunch at ‘The Pit Stop’:

As the van ate up the miles, time also flowed gently by and it was soon time for lunch. Dil made ‘The Pit Stop’ (very aptly named) our meal spot. But because we had been so badly delayed at the time of our departure by the Immigration formalities, we arrived at the restaurant to find that the buffet offerings had been entirely swiped. There was nothing in the dishes (much to our disappointment as we were hungry and ready to eat a ravenous meal); but a few inquiries with the staff led to the replenishing of a couple of dishes—there was one vegetable and a chicken curry made available to us and with rice, roti and papads, we had a filling (if not necessarily enjoyable) meal.

I have to say a word, at this point, about a distinctively Bhutanese drink (and meal-time accompaniment) called Butter Tea (this is to be distinguished from Milk Tea—which is the sort usually drunk in India). Butter Tea is made with a combination of herbal leaves that are steeped in water to emit their flavor and then served with a mixture of yogurt and salt using manual churners—today, the tendency is to make it in a mixie. I found it utterly delightful as it was reminiscent to me of chicken broth. I actually drank enormous portions of it throughout our trip and even bought a packet of Butter Tea leaves to take home to Bombay. Fortunately, there was Butter Tea at this buffet station and I enjoyed it immensely.

Lunch done, we were back in the van again. Once again, we passed through interesting scenery but it was old hat after a while as there is a typical sameness to it all.

Stopping at the Confluence of the Mo-chu and Po-Chu Rivers:

We had one more stop before we arrived at Thimphu. This site is a popular venue for folks on this long road trip. Just at the point where the highway takes a turn (literally)—one branch of it going to Thimphu, the other to Paro--you pass by a huge ceremonial gate and right by its side is a lovely look-over: it allows visitors to take in the sight of the meeting or confluence of the two rivers, The Mo-Chu and the Po-Chu. They unite rather picturesquely with the mountains as a heightened backdrop before they merge and become another larger, broader river—the Raidak. Yes, we all took pictures at this spot as we realized that this was quintessential Bhutan: emerald-draped mountain slopes, raging rivers with mini rapids in them, a small stupa on the river banks to commemorate the passing away of a beloved soul. These elements made us feel as if we were fully imbibing the spirit of this sacred land that dwells in the clouds.

Arrival in Thimphu:

And finally, after what had seemed like an interminable road journey, we skirted the city of Thimphu (Bhutan’s current capital). The city is renowned for being the only world capital that has no traffic lights. Instead, there are rotaries and, apparently, (although we did not see any), dancing policemen who direct traffic to keep it moving. The city appeared to be super clean, visually neat, and composed of man-made structures in just two colors--off-white and orche. Roofs were built uniformly in just two colors: green (signifying official buildings) and red (signifying domestic structures). The homogeneity of colors gave the entire city a very pleasing appearance and with the absolute lack of massive, screaming billboards to ruin the natural mountain landscape, it was a true delight to enter this city. In fact, we learned soon enough, that Thimphu crouches in the depths of a very verdant valley, completely surrounded by ice-encrusted Himalayas that still held tell-tale signs of a past winter in its remnant snow caps.

We had made plans to meet in Blossom’s room for aperitifs and nibbles (we had all been carrying a variety of savory snacks, dry fruits and nuts which had also provided snacking opportunities during our journey) and the peach wine and red wine (Llew’s choice) we carried allowed us to have sociable times together before we adjourned to the restaurant for dinner.

Checking Into Hotel Migmar:

We had made plans to meet in Blossom’s room for aperitifs and nibbles (we had all been carrying a variety of savory snacks, dry fruits and nuts which had also provided snacking opportunities during our journey) and the peach wine and red wine (Llew’s choice) we carried allowed us to have sociable times together before we adjourned to the restaurant for dinner.

Our accommodation for the next two nights was in Hotel Migmar, a lovely, beautifully decorated series of buildings, right on the main road, that had a spacious front courtyard and a striking lobby with a restaurant tucked on one side. We had a Welcome Drink served to us upon entry and within no time at all, had our keys in our hands. Our baggage was always seamlessly brought to our rooms—which turned out to be clean, pretty, well-appointed and offering lovely views of the city below and the distant mountains.

We had made plans to meet in Blossom’s room for aperitifs and nibbles (we had all been carrying a variety of savory snacks, dry fruits and nuts which had also provided snacking opportunities during our journey) and the peach wine and red wine (Llew’s choice) we carried allowed us to have sociable times together before we adjourned to the restaurant for dinner.

Dinner was pretty much the same everywhere we went. In many places, there was soup as a first course and we brought bowls of sweet corn soup to our table. Later, we helped ourselves to rice, rotis, dal, butter chicken, emma dashi, Indian-style vegetables, papads and dessert. We always sat together, ate heartily, laughed over the events of the day and usually on a very happy note, returned to our rooms, to spend peaceful nights.

Yes, we had lost an entire evening’s intended sightseeing (as the immigration formalities had delayed us), but Dil assured us that we would still manage to cover all of it, tomorrow. We hoped he would be correct.

Until tomorrow, keep smiling…