Is Bhutan’s tourism tax an elitist ruse or the blueprint for the future of sustainable travel?
Touching down at Bhutan’s only international airport, which boasts one of the most difficult approaches in the world, is a heart-in-the-mouth experience. But it’s not the only explanation for visitors’ emotional responses to this tiny kingdom on the eastern edge of the Himalayas.
In the serene valley of Punakha, a dzong – a traditional fortress now serving as an administrative and religious centre – overlooks the confluence of two mountain rivers. Scarlet-clad teenage monks play elongated temple horns, a bodhi tree stands in the centre of the courtyard and inside the temple a Buddha gazes down as if he only has eyes for you.
The cultural appeal of the country – prayer flags, 4K. In another valley, Phobjikha, a favourite wintering place for the globally threatened black-necked crane, power lines were laid underground to minimise collisions, and every November a local festival celebrates the birds’ arrival from Tibet. And while potato farms surround the cranes’ marshy habitat, there are protections in place to prevent more land being drained for agricultural use. The cranes still can be observed at close quarters here and, whatever the season, the bowl-shaped valley is an unspoiled and uncrowded setting for hiking and communing with nature.
