NATURAL HIGH
The countless valleys of the tiny Himalayan kingdom are knitted together with a dizzying network of hairpin bends like a road mandala. Mount Everest spears through the cloud line like a monster from the deep.
Like many good jokes, the one about Paro’s airport runway being the longest bit of straight road in Bhutan is seasoned with truth. The countless valleys of the tiny Himalayan kingdom are knitted together with a dizzying network of hairpin bends like a road mandala. Even the descent to the only international airport offers adventure worthy of Biggles. To the left, Mount Everest spears through the cloud line like a monster from the deep (the national carrier, Drukair, sits newcomers on that side for the best view), before the plane banks dramatically left, then right through the coin slot of the Paro Valley. It’s a white-knuckle ride featured on any list of the world’s most terrifying landings.
As the first lesson in a kingdom steeped in a deeply lived spirituality, it’s a good one. The 825,000 people in this devoutly Buddhist nation believe in karma, but it’s also worth giving kudos to the 20-odd pilots licensed to fly this route, each trained to ignore warning signals about the closeness of the surrounding mountains. This traveller lore is duly confirmed with our pilot as we make our way into the bracing crispness of the high-altitude air.
“It’s fine on a clear day,” he says with twinkle-eyed understatement. “It becomes more interesting when it’s foggy.”
Nearly five decades after opening up to its first trickle of foreign tourists, the global optics on Bhutan haven’t shifted all that far. To outside eyes, it’s a country still wedded to the exotic. Dzongkha is the national language; ngultrum is the currency. “Druk” means “dragon” (yes, you’ve just arrived by dragon air). The tout-free streets of the capital, Thimphu, are crowded
