Riding is a pleasure. But when that Riding is with your best buddies, the pleasure is doubled. Add a mystc, wild location to it and the pleasure is infinite. Not to forget the awesome food. The please-o-meter just climbs higher and higher. The North East part of India has been in the wishlist of many riders. But few get to accompalish it. I was one of the lucky ones.
It all started way back in July 2010. The idea of going to Bhutan was floated by Nilu. It was too fanciful to miss. Slowly the idea was exposed to few more riders and by Feb 2011, 7 riders were confirmed. These were:
Nilutpal Hazarika - Bajaj Pulsar 200 - Sinha Saab
Gyananath Moshahari - Hero Honda Karizma - Fukku
Mrinal Doley - Royal Enfield Classic 500 - Monk
Mrinaljit Dutta - Bajar Avenger 200 - John
Satadal Payeng - Bajaj Pulsar 150 - Fall Guy
Sir AK Brahma - Yamaha R15 - Mamaji
Diptinder Singh Chhabra - Royal Enfield Electra 4S - Kenny
Now began the task of planning out the itinerary. Two weeks of vacation time was carved out of our schedules. Arunachal Pradesh was added along with Bhutan. For me, Arunachal was described in one word. Mystic. This was before I visited the place. Nilu earlier described it as 'the place with the highest density of poisonous snakes'. Now, it can be described as Wild. Nilu began to prepare the itinerary. We had no idea about the kind of terrain, the road condition, the weather, we would be encountering. Help was taken from all possible sources. Another riding comrade Vibhor who had just returned from Red Dragon Ride provided inputs. The permits for entry into Bhutan would be no problem. They can be obtained on the spot. Nilu got the ILPs made for Arunachal early. The itinerary was repeatedly worked on so that we could get good time to explore both the territories comfortably. But the biggest task was still remaining. The motorcycles.
The initial plan was to take the machines along with us in Rajdhani to Guwahati. But our tickets had a long waitlist and the status was not climbing up. Gati refused to take bikes outside New Delhi. WTF. This was a constraint in New Delhi only. They were willing to take the bikes from Panipat. WTF. Aggarwal Packers & Movers were another bunch of fuckups. We took an online estimate and the cost was 3800 per bike. On contacting the agency, they estimated a price of Rs 10000 per bike. Even after repeatedly asking the reason for this inflated cost, we were not given a reason. Company policy. WTF. The time of departure was looming closer and we still did not have a mode to transport our motorcycles.
We booked sleeper tickets on the only other train going to Guwahati from New Delhi Railway Station (NE Express was now shifted to Anand Vihar Terminal). On 26th of March, Doley, Dutta and me went to New Delhi station to board the bikes. We contacted an agent. They were also now cashing in on the situation of lesser number of trains. They quoted a price of Rs 5000 per bike. WTF. Our logical reason told us that we could get the bikes delivered at the doorstep by some other Movers & Packers at less than that cost. We followed our reason and returned with our bikes. Over the next couple of days, Dutta found out that another agency, Caravan was charging Rs 6000 per bike. I found another M&P in Noida that quoted Rs 10000 for 3 bikes. The transit time was quoted as a week. This sounded like a sweet deal and we readily agreed. We saw later that theirs was the biggest fuckup.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Four Pack
30 March 2011
So, with just 10 days to go, Gyan also joined us in Delhi and we waited for the Mover and Packer truck to arrive at Doley's place in Gandhi Vihar. We passed the time by watching India Vs Pakistan Cricket World Cup Semi Final. Dutta was busy in his office. Gyan and I had taken an off. We were also trying to convince Doley to take an off as well. He would have been better off if he had.
One guy came to do a preliminiary packing using bubble wrap. When the truck finally came, the labour started to load the bikes onto the trucks. This caused certain people in the neighbourhood to become suspicious. Most of all, one person, whom I'll call Uncle Meddler. He rang up the local Head Constable citing his suspicions. The Constable, DineshJi, arrived quickly. This man earns respects for his honesty and efficiency. By now, even Doley had left for office. So, the persons getting the bikes loaded were two outsiders. One from Panipat, the other from Gurgaon. DineshJi asked for the original papers of the bikes and we presented them. He began to verify the engine and chassis numbers.
The whole matter would have been resolved quickly. But a Sub-Inspector arrived. No respects for him. He ordered the bikes to be taken to the local police station to get the verification done. Uncle Meddler, I would surely like to meet you again.
Another hour passed as we gave our details and Dinesh Ji checked the police records if the bikes were stolen. Full respects to him to finish his job and then give us the green signal. Unfortunate for the Sub-Inspector, there was no earning. Doley had just arrived at the station after spending only 10 minutes in the office.
But just as soon as we were out of the station, India Packers and Movers person, Tiwary, started to ask for more money. Again began a round of negotiations and then we settled for an amount of Rs 17000 for the 4 bikes taking his word that they would be delivered by 8th April, max. What a Farce!
But for the time being, we were relieved and began to enjoy a crate of beer with the match. Now began the anxious wait for 9th April, the day we would fly to Guwahati.
So, with just 10 days to go, Gyan also joined us in Delhi and we waited for the Mover and Packer truck to arrive at Doley's place in Gandhi Vihar. We passed the time by watching India Vs Pakistan Cricket World Cup Semi Final. Dutta was busy in his office. Gyan and I had taken an off. We were also trying to convince Doley to take an off as well. He would have been better off if he had.
One guy came to do a preliminiary packing using bubble wrap. When the truck finally came, the labour started to load the bikes onto the trucks. This caused certain people in the neighbourhood to become suspicious. Most of all, one person, whom I'll call Uncle Meddler. He rang up the local Head Constable citing his suspicions. The Constable, DineshJi, arrived quickly. This man earns respects for his honesty and efficiency. By now, even Doley had left for office. So, the persons getting the bikes loaded were two outsiders. One from Panipat, the other from Gurgaon. DineshJi asked for the original papers of the bikes and we presented them. He began to verify the engine and chassis numbers.
The whole matter would have been resolved quickly. But a Sub-Inspector arrived. No respects for him. He ordered the bikes to be taken to the local police station to get the verification done. Uncle Meddler, I would surely like to meet you again.
Another hour passed as we gave our details and Dinesh Ji checked the police records if the bikes were stolen. Full respects to him to finish his job and then give us the green signal. Unfortunate for the Sub-Inspector, there was no earning. Doley had just arrived at the station after spending only 10 minutes in the office.
But just as soon as we were out of the station, India Packers and Movers person, Tiwary, started to ask for more money. Again began a round of negotiations and then we settled for an amount of Rs 17000 for the 4 bikes taking his word that they would be delivered by 8th April, max. What a Farce!
But for the time being, we were relieved and began to enjoy a crate of beer with the match. Now began the anxious wait for 9th April, the day we would fly to Guwahati.
To Doley's place
8th April 2011
The day before departure had arrived. We all endured a painful time in our offices. At 6:30 PM, I took off. Picked up my bags, along with the carrier. Frustratingly, there are no autos in Gurgaon that would take you to Delhi. So much for NCR. My roommate dropped me till Dwarka from where I took an auto till Gandhi Vihar. I reached Doley's place at 9:30 PM. Dutta was again at office. That guy is fixated with his office. Doley told me that 3-4 days pass easily before he gets home. While Doley was packing, I passed the time with some Haywards 5000, advicing him on the packing.
We used his bubble wrap and Godrej tape to pack the carriers. Dutta arrived by then. He had not packed a thing till then. And he wasnt worried a bit. Just sitting there having beer.
The day before departure had arrived. We all endured a painful time in our offices. At 6:30 PM, I took off. Picked up my bags, along with the carrier. Frustratingly, there are no autos in Gurgaon that would take you to Delhi. So much for NCR. My roommate dropped me till Dwarka from where I took an auto till Gandhi Vihar. I reached Doley's place at 9:30 PM. Dutta was again at office. That guy is fixated with his office. Doley told me that 3-4 days pass easily before he gets home. While Doley was packing, I passed the time with some Haywards 5000, advicing him on the packing.
We used his bubble wrap and Godrej tape to pack the carriers. Dutta arrived by then. He had not packed a thing till then. And he wasnt worried a bit. Just sitting there having beer.
Arrival at Guwahati
9th April 2011
I dont remember when I slept off, but at 3 AM, we woke up for the taxi ride to airport. Delhi cabs dont drive, they fly. Dutta is always hopeful of the neighbouring seat in public travels. This time, the seat remained vacant.
We arrived at Guwahati at 8:10 AM, 15 minutes early. Nilu was nowhere in sight. We had to wait for half an hour before he came. Funnily, I noticed that the luggage carrier had been marked as Fragile. Sinha saab was styled in goggles and goatie. He had a huge apartment to himself. Each room had some sort of music source in it. An Audiophile's place. We called up to find out that our bikes had not arrived yet. Estimated date of delivery was 11th April. Now we had to work on a contingency plan. The ire on Tiwary would come later. To fine tune our thinking, we had some Tuborg Strong that Nilu had stocked up. Gyan also arrived. He can sniff the opening fizz of beer miles away. We began to work on alternatives . We could explore the areas around while waiting for the motorcycles and then zip through the itinerary in fast forward. That also meant we would have less time to explore the areas properly. Gyan made a list of plans based on what day the bikes would be collected.
Gyan started to cook pasta for us. He made a terrific job of it and then asked us to keep it as a secret from his wife. Nilu must have been having a hard time in his office during this duration because he arrived home soon and we all went to pick up PayengDa. It was great to meet him after so long. We went to Cafe Hendrix. It is such a chilled out place. Delhi should have such places. In fact, it had one by the name of Cafe Morrisson. But then they hiked the prices so much that it got unaffordable. We finished our lunch there. Fried Rice and Pork. This would be our staple food during the entire trip. We returned to Nilu's palace to reach a decision. With our senses sharpened by Carlsbergs, ideas began to flow. We could stick to our itinerary and explore Bhutan on four wheels. Everyone knew that we would be missing our bikes the entire time we would be on the road, but we were helpless. At that time, it seemed to be the best decision. PayengDa declined as he had an interview the next day at Chennai. So, there was only two bikes available, Nilu's 200 and Mamaji's R15. We could also hire other bikes at Guwahati. But ask any rider, and he would vote for No Riding rather than riding a hired motorcycle. Later, Mamaji also declined as he had already been to Bhutan on 4 wheels. That left with 5 of us. We could fit easily into Nilu's Fiery Fiesta. That also meant we could have limitless bakchodi.
Nilu had already booked the Indian Oil guest house at Madarihat near the Bhutan border. He also made arrangements for breakfast at a cousin's place we would be crossing on the way. This later resulted in a hilarious experience. Now we had the rest of the day with us. Gyan left for his home as he would be returning again in the evening. Nilu had a treat for us. Famous Grouse.
We drank moderately that night. Nilu got his tank full first so that we could leave early the next morning.
I dont remember when I slept off, but at 3 AM, we woke up for the taxi ride to airport. Delhi cabs dont drive, they fly. Dutta is always hopeful of the neighbouring seat in public travels. This time, the seat remained vacant.
We arrived at Guwahati at 8:10 AM, 15 minutes early. Nilu was nowhere in sight. We had to wait for half an hour before he came. Funnily, I noticed that the luggage carrier had been marked as Fragile. Sinha saab was styled in goggles and goatie. He had a huge apartment to himself. Each room had some sort of music source in it. An Audiophile's place. We called up to find out that our bikes had not arrived yet. Estimated date of delivery was 11th April. Now we had to work on a contingency plan. The ire on Tiwary would come later. To fine tune our thinking, we had some Tuborg Strong that Nilu had stocked up. Gyan also arrived. He can sniff the opening fizz of beer miles away. We began to work on alternatives . We could explore the areas around while waiting for the motorcycles and then zip through the itinerary in fast forward. That also meant we would have less time to explore the areas properly. Gyan made a list of plans based on what day the bikes would be collected.
Gyan started to cook pasta for us. He made a terrific job of it and then asked us to keep it as a secret from his wife. Nilu must have been having a hard time in his office during this duration because he arrived home soon and we all went to pick up PayengDa. It was great to meet him after so long. We went to Cafe Hendrix. It is such a chilled out place. Delhi should have such places. In fact, it had one by the name of Cafe Morrisson. But then they hiked the prices so much that it got unaffordable. We finished our lunch there. Fried Rice and Pork. This would be our staple food during the entire trip. We returned to Nilu's palace to reach a decision. With our senses sharpened by Carlsbergs, ideas began to flow. We could stick to our itinerary and explore Bhutan on four wheels. Everyone knew that we would be missing our bikes the entire time we would be on the road, but we were helpless. At that time, it seemed to be the best decision. PayengDa declined as he had an interview the next day at Chennai. So, there was only two bikes available, Nilu's 200 and Mamaji's R15. We could also hire other bikes at Guwahati. But ask any rider, and he would vote for No Riding rather than riding a hired motorcycle. Later, Mamaji also declined as he had already been to Bhutan on 4 wheels. That left with 5 of us. We could fit easily into Nilu's Fiery Fiesta. That also meant we could have limitless bakchodi.
Nilu had already booked the Indian Oil guest house at Madarihat near the Bhutan border. He also made arrangements for breakfast at a cousin's place we would be crossing on the way. This later resulted in a hilarious experience. Now we had the rest of the day with us. Gyan left for his home as he would be returning again in the evening. Nilu had a treat for us. Famous Grouse.
We drank moderately that night. Nilu got his tank full first so that we could leave early the next morning.
Guwahati to Madarihat
10 April 2011
We woke up early at 5 AM, packed our light luggage in the sedan and started our journey. Being Bihu time, the roads were empty. We zoomed through NH-52. Our motorcycles were in our minds. How lovely it would have been to ride on these roads. We covered 110 kms within 2 hours arriving at the cousin's place.
Almost all of the conversation was in Assamese so I couldnt make sense of it. Then the serving started. It began with tea, sweet and biscuits. Then the pork arrived. And Poori. And Paneer. And Dal. And chicken. And another sabzi. Man, this was breakfast. I hope we didnt disappoint our hosts because we were gobbling every minute.
We gave up when our stomachs could hold no more. But, the treat was still not over. Out came lao paani, or rice beer. I had been longing to taste it. Nilu refused to have but still had to taste some for courtesy's sake. We had a bit more for courtesy's sake. Nilu warned that it is extremely potent. It is said to be good for digestion, a fact proved as Doley immediately went to dump. This activity would become a big joke later in the evening as we came to know about a secret.
Our hosts packed up a tiffin filled with pork and a 3 Litres milk container full of rice beer for our journey. Being Bihu time, we were also presented with the traditional gamusha. We thanked our hosts immensely. Note the trip meter reading of 110 kms. We continued our journey to stop again after 5 minutes. The smokers badly wanted a drag. As we continued, with blues playing in the stereo, we mulled over what else to do. About 20 minutes must have passed since we left. Out came the milk container. Our hosts had also packed a few disposable glasses. I took my duty as the bartender, though it looked more like a milkman. I even wrapped the gamusha to complete the effect. We stopped for a while so that even Nilu could have some. It must have been killing him to see us gulping down the beer. But then he gets his high from driving.
As we bypassed Bongaigaon, an incident occurred. Suddenly, the vehicle began to lose power and the transmission warning light came on. This had never happened before. We were left with reduced power. This reduced the speed limit to just 70. Nilu was highly worried.
Dutta was a source of relief in between. Nilu frequently questioned him, "Dutta, so gaya kya?". This was only the beginning. He would be facing much tougher wraths in the days to come. But he was always sporting.
As we reached the Assam-Bengal border, miles of trucks greeted us. This is one of the two gateways to all the North Eastern states and is extremely crowded. Nilu had to manouver offroad to progress. But at one point, we were badly stuck. Then a good samaritan guided us towards a village path that would bypass the chaos. The Fiesta was now in unknown terrain. It handled everything extremely well even when underpowered.
And we were through. Now, we were in Boka-land. Remember the point where the trip meter reading was 110. It was now nearly 260. We had managed to finish 3 Litres of rice beer. That translates to 50 kms to a Litre. Not a bad mileage, I'll say. HAAAAARRR HAAAAAAAARRR.
The roads were still decent. We made good progress till New Alipurduar. Here we turned towards Madarihat. This road is in a bad shape. Huge potholes slowed our journey to a crawl. This road passes through the Buxar Wildlife Reserve. Greenery was in abundance. There did come a good stretch and Nilu made full use of it, racing the Fiesta to a speed of 140 kmph. It was a good 60 kms later that we arrived at the Guest House. It was placed well inside, past the Madarihat village. Enroute, we also saw the road that we would be taking in the morning to Bhutan alongside massive tea estates. The rooms were spacious. But the most spectacular part were the bathroom fittings. I wouldn't have written about it otherwise. Truly, state of the art.
We had picked up 3 bottles of Blender's for our time here and further on. One was opened tonight. It was during this session that Nilu dropped a bomb. He told us that he doesn't meet his cousin that often. We had enjoyed all the frills and eats at an almost-stranger's place. Doley was hit the hardest. He had dumped at that place. He exclaimed, "Shit!". Yeah, it was literally a shitty situation.
After the bottle was finished, we got down to the dining table to have dinner. The cook had made the chicken well. I dont even remember the taste of rest of the dishes. We would be carnivores throughout this trip.
We woke up early at 5 AM, packed our light luggage in the sedan and started our journey. Being Bihu time, the roads were empty. We zoomed through NH-52. Our motorcycles were in our minds. How lovely it would have been to ride on these roads. We covered 110 kms within 2 hours arriving at the cousin's place.
Almost all of the conversation was in Assamese so I couldnt make sense of it. Then the serving started. It began with tea, sweet and biscuits. Then the pork arrived. And Poori. And Paneer. And Dal. And chicken. And another sabzi. Man, this was breakfast. I hope we didnt disappoint our hosts because we were gobbling every minute.
We gave up when our stomachs could hold no more. But, the treat was still not over. Out came lao paani, or rice beer. I had been longing to taste it. Nilu refused to have but still had to taste some for courtesy's sake. We had a bit more for courtesy's sake. Nilu warned that it is extremely potent. It is said to be good for digestion, a fact proved as Doley immediately went to dump. This activity would become a big joke later in the evening as we came to know about a secret.
Our hosts packed up a tiffin filled with pork and a 3 Litres milk container full of rice beer for our journey. Being Bihu time, we were also presented with the traditional gamusha. We thanked our hosts immensely. Note the trip meter reading of 110 kms. We continued our journey to stop again after 5 minutes. The smokers badly wanted a drag. As we continued, with blues playing in the stereo, we mulled over what else to do. About 20 minutes must have passed since we left. Out came the milk container. Our hosts had also packed a few disposable glasses. I took my duty as the bartender, though it looked more like a milkman. I even wrapped the gamusha to complete the effect. We stopped for a while so that even Nilu could have some. It must have been killing him to see us gulping down the beer. But then he gets his high from driving.
As we bypassed Bongaigaon, an incident occurred. Suddenly, the vehicle began to lose power and the transmission warning light came on. This had never happened before. We were left with reduced power. This reduced the speed limit to just 70. Nilu was highly worried.
Dutta was a source of relief in between. Nilu frequently questioned him, "Dutta, so gaya kya?". This was only the beginning. He would be facing much tougher wraths in the days to come. But he was always sporting.
As we reached the Assam-Bengal border, miles of trucks greeted us. This is one of the two gateways to all the North Eastern states and is extremely crowded. Nilu had to manouver offroad to progress. But at one point, we were badly stuck. Then a good samaritan guided us towards a village path that would bypass the chaos. The Fiesta was now in unknown terrain. It handled everything extremely well even when underpowered.
And we were through. Now, we were in Boka-land. Remember the point where the trip meter reading was 110. It was now nearly 260. We had managed to finish 3 Litres of rice beer. That translates to 50 kms to a Litre. Not a bad mileage, I'll say. HAAAAARRR HAAAAAAAARRR.
The roads were still decent. We made good progress till New Alipurduar. Here we turned towards Madarihat. This road is in a bad shape. Huge potholes slowed our journey to a crawl. This road passes through the Buxar Wildlife Reserve. Greenery was in abundance. There did come a good stretch and Nilu made full use of it, racing the Fiesta to a speed of 140 kmph. It was a good 60 kms later that we arrived at the Guest House. It was placed well inside, past the Madarihat village. Enroute, we also saw the road that we would be taking in the morning to Bhutan alongside massive tea estates. The rooms were spacious. But the most spectacular part were the bathroom fittings. I wouldn't have written about it otherwise. Truly, state of the art.
We had picked up 3 bottles of Blender's for our time here and further on. One was opened tonight. It was during this session that Nilu dropped a bomb. He told us that he doesn't meet his cousin that often. We had enjoyed all the frills and eats at an almost-stranger's place. Doley was hit the hardest. He had dumped at that place. He exclaimed, "Shit!". Yeah, it was literally a shitty situation.
After the bottle was finished, we got down to the dining table to have dinner. The cook had made the chicken well. I dont even remember the taste of rest of the dishes. We would be carnivores throughout this trip.
Madarihat to Thimpu
11 April 2011
Today was a big day. It would have been even bigger if it could have been our first International Bike Ride. But, we were still excited to visit Bhutan. Nilu was to leave his car here for the next two days. As we waited for the taxi to pick us up, we picked up a ball nearby and practiced some football. It was only after we realized that it was actually a volleyball, that we changed the sport. But then again swung back to football.
Today was a big day. It would have been even bigger if it could have been our first International Bike Ride. But, we were still excited to visit Bhutan. Nilu was to leave his car here for the next two days. As we waited for the taxi to pick us up, we picked up a ball nearby and practiced some football. It was only after we realized that it was actually a volleyball, that we changed the sport. But then again swung back to football.
As the taxi arrived, we piled in. The road weaves in between massive tea estates. We were dropped off at the border town of Jaigaon. A gateway with negligible checking leads to Bhutan. Phuentsholing is on the other side of the gateway. Both the towns are split by a wall. But this border is very porous. People are seen walking across easily. Both these towns show a perfect, balanced blend of two cultures. Perfect peace and harmony. Our states should learn from these towns.
We entered the Immigration office to get permits for our stay in Bhutan. Getting a permit after entering the country, how much more friendly can you get. Tourists can roam around in Phuentsholing easily without permits. They are checked some distance ahead at a checkpost. A passport is the best method to get the permit. Only two of us were carrying passports. The others had Driver's Licenses. So, we had to go to the Indian Consul nearby to get our nationalities verified. We booked a cab that we would be using later on to get to Thimphu as well. The driver was Kinley and a brilliant guy.
Sadly, the official here is not that friendly. As soon as he learnt that two among us were IOC officials, he asked for an NOC. This was a shocker. It seemed as if our trip would be over even before it started. But our kind and docile faces must have convinced him otherwise. He provided us with the verification letter to be submitted at the Immigration Office. We raced back only to find that they had lunch break.
Kinley got our currency exchanged at a nearby store. The Ngultrum and INR are at par and in these two towns and even nearby, both of them can be used. We had lunch ourselves at Zen restaurant in Phuentsholing along with Druk 11000 beer. This was our first taste of Bhutanese alcohol. We ogled at all the SUVs parked outside. We were under the impression that Bhutan is a poor country. But, it is hard to believe that when you see all the Tucsons, Hiluxs, Prados parked here and there. We dont get some of the models in India.
We waited for a while inside the Immigration office to collect our permits. We got them at 2:30 PM and we were off. By now, Kinley had packed our bags neatly on the roof of his Versa, covered with tarpaulin. It so happened that our ages were displayed clearly on the permits. One particular person was revealed to be eldest and his leg was pulled to no end over this during the entire trip and even today. His identity would be revealed later.
The 157 kms to Thimphu took 5.5 hours. We snoozed most of the way. Enroute, we also did some illegal activity. Smoking is completely banned in Bhutan. So, Kinley stopped at a roadside and then our guys puffed secretly taking cover of the taxi. Nilu squeezed Kinley dry of all the information to gain entry and citizenship into the country. He also learnt some Bhutanese or Jongkha words. Heres what I remember:
Kuzumbo - Hi
Bum - Female
Boo - Male
Tashi Delek - Good Wishes
Bhutanese - Jongkha
8 Lucky Buddhist Symbols - umbrella(dunkar), lotus, victory banner, white conch(peng), golden fish
All through the drive, we marvelled at the smooth roads of Bhutan. BRO was at play here also. Project Dantak. Our missing motorcycles repeatedly panged at us. But we decided to make the most of it without them.
As we entered the gateway of Thimphu, we were struck by an awesome sight. A four-lane highway. And then a flyover. At a hill station. Kinley only dropped us at a budget hotel, Hotel Choephel Norkyi on Norzin Lam road. This road is frequented by tourists and also a busy market place. The location was perfect and the pricing was right. We boarded in.
We thanked Kinley and said goodbye to him. After we had dumped the luggage, we came out to buy some of the local liquor. When we came out, Kinley only guided us to a store. This was another unusual sight. We were in a departmental store selling groceries. And there right on top of the Cerelacs, were the Whiskey bottles. We picked up one bottle of Courier and another more premium brand, K5. Alcohol is quite cheap in Bhutan and also of topmost quality.
Fried pork was ordered as snacks and we started our session in the room. IPL also entertained us in between all the leg pulling. Then for dinner we again had, yes, pork. But the pleasant surprise was that I got rotis. And they tasted heavenly after so long. The sweet taste of wheat. I ordered the local dish Kewa Datschi along with it, but did not find the taste to my liking.
Thimpu to Paro
12 April 2011
Our target for the day was Paro Monastery. We had seen pics of this structure and it deserved a visit. One wakes up early and fresh in the hills. It might be due to the crisp and clear mountain air. Also, the early sunrise helps. We did wake up early but not early enough to catch the bus to Paro. The last one leaves at 8 AM. At 8:30 we roamed the streets. None of the shops were open. All were to open at 9 AM only.
But still, a roadside tea shop provided tea. One of the dishes kept at the counter looked attractive and was ordered for breakfast along with sweet bun. The owner was surprised saying that it was beef for lunch. We didnt mind. Bun and beef for breakfast along with a distinctive taste of tea. That should keep us healthy while hiking to the monastery.
We went around to the taxi stand. One of the drivers approached us and charged us 1050 Nu. The amount was right for 7 people. Since we were 5, he took us down to the bus stand to pick up more passengers. A friend of the driver came around and we negotiated a deal of 2100 Nu that included sight seeing. We were told that sight seeing at Paro costs a minimum of 700 Nu. We took the deal and changed vans. Versas are in plenty here.
The road to Paro is a breeze. Again, we were hit by our lack of motorcycles. Our guide was a superb person. Very knowledgable too. He told us about the government and the King. The King has the final word and the government cannot challenge that. He is only 30 years old and very citizen-friendly. We also came across the Paro airstrip. The pilots must be surely highly skilled to manouver huge aircrafts in that narrow space and a short airstrip. Paro is a wonderful town. We went another 4-5 kms to the starting point of our hike. The monastery was visible from below, high above in the mountains.
And the hike started. In no time, we were gasping and panting for breath. We claim to ride hundreds of kms without getting tired, but a minute of hike is enough to weaken us. Nilu was the slowest, although he claims it was due to his snap-taking tendencies. Dutta gave a good start. He was all dressed in Nat Geo pullover and with a camera hanging on his neck, he looked the part. But soon, age caught up with him(here's the leak). Even Gyan overtook him. I guess it must have been due to the fact he claims that he is underweight. Underweight means he hasnt touched 100 yet. Doley used to be a hard trekker. But with his paunch all swelled up, his pace had dropped. I was in the lead powered by my BoP Tee. All those days in the gym helped.
There were few tourists on the trail. At the mid point theres a water pipe. The water running is drinkable and very tasteful. This place also offers a view of the monastery ahead. It looked more spectacular than before. I also met a British and a Canadian tourist. The Canadian women claimed she was Punjabi. I found it hard to believe and then she showed me her nose pin. She is a travel writer and trips India back and forth. She runs a website breathedreamgo.com and when I looked at the site, she loves our country much more than we do it ourselves. Something to be learnt for all of us.
As we regrouped, we sat at the Takshang Cafeteria for tea and biscuits. We thought of having lunch here, but when the bill for tea came, 360 Nu, we passed. Now began the second leg. This was easier than the first leg as you watch the destination coming closer and closer. We all grouped for a pic with the structure in the background. Another flight of stairs led to a cave. Doley, Gyan and I took the stairs to see the meditating cave. The way down is scary. When we reached the gates of the monastery, all the cameras were surrendered and we were frisked.
The Royal Bhutan Army manages the tourist traffic inside the monastery. They also act as guides giving complete information. The soldiers were cheerful men. But, one statement struck me. He asked if anyone of us was Pakistani. This is a downright offensive statement.
The soldier guided us along the monastery showing us the treasure rock, the sun and the moon impressions, the wishing thumb impression. He kept urging us to see everything as it would be, most probably, a once in a lifetime experience. He even mocked Dutta asking if he was feeling healthy. Dutta was in pain. As if our needling wasnt enough, here was a soldier of the Royal Bhutan Army mocking him too. Monasteries have a different sort of air in them. As soon as you enter one, you soak in the calmness and peace. You feel cleansed. The soldier told us how the large Guru Padmasambhava statue was brought to the monastery by one person. You ought to have strong devotion to lift such weight to such heights. We were carrying nothing and still had to stop frequently. It was a divine experience.
After clicking a snap with the Armyman, we started our way back. The way down was much easier. I was halfway down quickly with the help of Metal in my ears. I reached the point where there were few memento sellers, all females. They asked if any foreign tourists were still up there at the monastery. I said No. While they were packing I experienced some of Bhutan's Women's Liberation. They began flirting, pointing at the other and saying, "she wants to be your girlfriend", "Balle Balle", etc. I replied in affirmative to everything. I loved that country even more.
The second half of the journey was covered even sooner. It had taken us a total of 5 hours to the monastery and back. Earlier, our cab driver had told us that being youthful, we would be able to climb up in an hour and descend even sooner. So much for the youth. On the way back he took us the long way round so that we could have a better view of the airport. It looked splendid from the mountains around it.
As we reached back to Thimphu, he took us to the huge Buddha statue that provided a panoramic view of the city. Unfortunately, that place was closed. But though we didnt get a good view of the city, we got an overview of the city's youngsters. The road to the viewpoint is covered with vehicles with couples dating in and out of them. It seems this was their Bandstand or Buddha Garden(pun intended).
We reached back to the market where the cab driver dropped us. He had also suggested that if we want to take the bus to Phuentsholing the next day, we should purchase the ticket early. We began shopping for souvenirs. It took longer for the married folks to shop, obviously. Dutta was the quickest with everything done and over with at the first shop, to which we returned an hour later to finish ours. We also saw key chains of the Bhutanese good luck charm. This has to be seen to be believed. Then Dutta went to do further shopping and bought a razor. When the Royal Bhutan Army says, you have to listen. He had decided to clean up after the critical comment from the soldier up on the monastery. But he forgot to buy shaving cream. He compensated for it by using face wash.
Tuesdays are dry days in Bhutan, in a strict manner. We ordered room service for the snacks. 6 plates of fried pork and 2 plates of fried chicken. This was our last night in Bhutan. The manager asked us if we were going to drink. His gesture was truly memorable. "take it to the room". We opened the premium K5 tonight. Its smooth. Courier was packed for the way back.
I should mention here that Nilu keeps the empty bottles as trophy. This should be remembered as it went on to become the most memorable moment of this trip.
When we came down to have dinner, the guys again ordered pork, for themselves, and chicken, for me. By this time, I was done and over with pork. I do like it, but cannot enjoy continuous spells of it.
Our target for the day was Paro Monastery. We had seen pics of this structure and it deserved a visit. One wakes up early and fresh in the hills. It might be due to the crisp and clear mountain air. Also, the early sunrise helps. We did wake up early but not early enough to catch the bus to Paro. The last one leaves at 8 AM. At 8:30 we roamed the streets. None of the shops were open. All were to open at 9 AM only.
But still, a roadside tea shop provided tea. One of the dishes kept at the counter looked attractive and was ordered for breakfast along with sweet bun. The owner was surprised saying that it was beef for lunch. We didnt mind. Bun and beef for breakfast along with a distinctive taste of tea. That should keep us healthy while hiking to the monastery.
We went around to the taxi stand. One of the drivers approached us and charged us 1050 Nu. The amount was right for 7 people. Since we were 5, he took us down to the bus stand to pick up more passengers. A friend of the driver came around and we negotiated a deal of 2100 Nu that included sight seeing. We were told that sight seeing at Paro costs a minimum of 700 Nu. We took the deal and changed vans. Versas are in plenty here.
The road to Paro is a breeze. Again, we were hit by our lack of motorcycles. Our guide was a superb person. Very knowledgable too. He told us about the government and the King. The King has the final word and the government cannot challenge that. He is only 30 years old and very citizen-friendly. We also came across the Paro airstrip. The pilots must be surely highly skilled to manouver huge aircrafts in that narrow space and a short airstrip. Paro is a wonderful town. We went another 4-5 kms to the starting point of our hike. The monastery was visible from below, high above in the mountains.
And the hike started. In no time, we were gasping and panting for breath. We claim to ride hundreds of kms without getting tired, but a minute of hike is enough to weaken us. Nilu was the slowest, although he claims it was due to his snap-taking tendencies. Dutta gave a good start. He was all dressed in Nat Geo pullover and with a camera hanging on his neck, he looked the part. But soon, age caught up with him(here's the leak). Even Gyan overtook him. I guess it must have been due to the fact he claims that he is underweight. Underweight means he hasnt touched 100 yet. Doley used to be a hard trekker. But with his paunch all swelled up, his pace had dropped. I was in the lead powered by my BoP Tee. All those days in the gym helped.
There were few tourists on the trail. At the mid point theres a water pipe. The water running is drinkable and very tasteful. This place also offers a view of the monastery ahead. It looked more spectacular than before. I also met a British and a Canadian tourist. The Canadian women claimed she was Punjabi. I found it hard to believe and then she showed me her nose pin. She is a travel writer and trips India back and forth. She runs a website breathedreamgo.com and when I looked at the site, she loves our country much more than we do it ourselves. Something to be learnt for all of us.
As we regrouped, we sat at the Takshang Cafeteria for tea and biscuits. We thought of having lunch here, but when the bill for tea came, 360 Nu, we passed. Now began the second leg. This was easier than the first leg as you watch the destination coming closer and closer. We all grouped for a pic with the structure in the background. Another flight of stairs led to a cave. Doley, Gyan and I took the stairs to see the meditating cave. The way down is scary. When we reached the gates of the monastery, all the cameras were surrendered and we were frisked.
The Royal Bhutan Army manages the tourist traffic inside the monastery. They also act as guides giving complete information. The soldiers were cheerful men. But, one statement struck me. He asked if anyone of us was Pakistani. This is a downright offensive statement.
The soldier guided us along the monastery showing us the treasure rock, the sun and the moon impressions, the wishing thumb impression. He kept urging us to see everything as it would be, most probably, a once in a lifetime experience. He even mocked Dutta asking if he was feeling healthy. Dutta was in pain. As if our needling wasnt enough, here was a soldier of the Royal Bhutan Army mocking him too. Monasteries have a different sort of air in them. As soon as you enter one, you soak in the calmness and peace. You feel cleansed. The soldier told us how the large Guru Padmasambhava statue was brought to the monastery by one person. You ought to have strong devotion to lift such weight to such heights. We were carrying nothing and still had to stop frequently. It was a divine experience.
After clicking a snap with the Armyman, we started our way back. The way down was much easier. I was halfway down quickly with the help of Metal in my ears. I reached the point where there were few memento sellers, all females. They asked if any foreign tourists were still up there at the monastery. I said No. While they were packing I experienced some of Bhutan's Women's Liberation. They began flirting, pointing at the other and saying, "she wants to be your girlfriend", "Balle Balle", etc. I replied in affirmative to everything. I loved that country even more.
The second half of the journey was covered even sooner. It had taken us a total of 5 hours to the monastery and back. Earlier, our cab driver had told us that being youthful, we would be able to climb up in an hour and descend even sooner. So much for the youth. On the way back he took us the long way round so that we could have a better view of the airport. It looked splendid from the mountains around it.
As we reached back to Thimphu, he took us to the huge Buddha statue that provided a panoramic view of the city. Unfortunately, that place was closed. But though we didnt get a good view of the city, we got an overview of the city's youngsters. The road to the viewpoint is covered with vehicles with couples dating in and out of them. It seems this was their Bandstand or Buddha Garden(pun intended).
We reached back to the market where the cab driver dropped us. He had also suggested that if we want to take the bus to Phuentsholing the next day, we should purchase the ticket early. We began shopping for souvenirs. It took longer for the married folks to shop, obviously. Dutta was the quickest with everything done and over with at the first shop, to which we returned an hour later to finish ours. We also saw key chains of the Bhutanese good luck charm. This has to be seen to be believed. Then Dutta went to do further shopping and bought a razor. When the Royal Bhutan Army says, you have to listen. He had decided to clean up after the critical comment from the soldier up on the monastery. But he forgot to buy shaving cream. He compensated for it by using face wash.
Tuesdays are dry days in Bhutan, in a strict manner. We ordered room service for the snacks. 6 plates of fried pork and 2 plates of fried chicken. This was our last night in Bhutan. The manager asked us if we were going to drink. His gesture was truly memorable. "take it to the room". We opened the premium K5 tonight. Its smooth. Courier was packed for the way back.
I should mention here that Nilu keeps the empty bottles as trophy. This should be remembered as it went on to become the most memorable moment of this trip.
When we came down to have dinner, the guys again ordered pork, for themselves, and chicken, for me. By this time, I was done and over with pork. I do like it, but cannot enjoy continuous spells of it.
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