It’s after breakfast the next day that we pile back into the Hyundai for the drive to the Punakha Valley, covering much of the same ground as the previous day’s journey. But instead of turning up toward Dochula Pass, we follow the jade-green Punatshang River north, past the soot-blackened ruins of Wangdue Phodrang Dzong, which was razed by fire last summer. “This was our third-oldest dzong,” Sangay says in an uncharacteristically grave tone. “Very sad.”
He brightens, though, when I ask him about all the penises—pink, tumescent, blushingly graphic—I’ve seen painted on farmhouse walls. The tradition, he says, dates back at least five centuries, to when a bawdy Tibetan lama named Drukpa Kunely—a.k.a. “the Divine Madman”—crossed the mountains into Bhutan and proceeded to “tame” demons by batting them with his own prodigious you-know-what. “It is called the dorji, which means ‘thunderbolt,’ but it also means that other thing,” Sangay explains. continued on pg. 130 He adds with a wink, “Same as my last name, ha ha ha!”
The road eventually brings us past Punakha Dzong, which presides over the confluence of two rivers, and on to Amankora Punakha. Surrounded by rice fields and stands of fruit trees on a small hill, the lodge is centered on a stately old farmhouse leased from the royal family. Accessing it is half the fun: guests must cross the creaking wooden planks of a suspension bridge that stretches across the trout-filled Mo River, to be greeted on the other side by a waiting buggy.
The rest of the afternoon is spent devouring a barbecue lunch between sips of Chilean wine and touring the frescoed prayer halls of Punakha Dzong, whose crepuscular chambers reverberate with the chanting of monks and the haunting skirl of their oboe-like jalings. My favorite moment, however, comes at cocktail hour. In the lodge’s darkened courtyard, I join some other guests for what has been billed as a traditional Bhutanese welcome. Staving off the chill with woolen blankets and cups of hot arag rice wine stirred with yak butter (it’s vile, but warming), we watch as an extended family of folk from a nearby farm dance and sing their way jauntily around a bonfire. Every so often a gust of wind rains sparks on granddad or daughter-in-law or a child wrapped in a pint-size gho, but round and round they go, clapping and twirling to an ancient rhythm. And sure, it’s a hotel entertainment. But deep in the valleys of Bhutan, even scripted moments can seem utterly authentic.
I spend my last full day in Paro, where Amanresorts built its first Bhutanese lodge. Getting there takes us back over Dochula Pass and through Thimpu, another marathon drive along serpentine roads broken only by the two-kilometer stretch of asphalt that parallels the runway at Paro—the only straight road in Bhutan, Sangay tells me with an equally straight face.
Like its sibling lodges, the 24-room Amankora Paro has a discreet, clean-lined
aesthetic that deftly balances rustic materials (rammed-earth walls, lime-washed stone, corrugated-tin roofs) against such indulgent features as terrazzo-encased bathtubs and big pillowy beds. It’s set amid a forest of blue pine above the village of Balakha; Mount Jhomolhari, a 7,300-meter summit, is visible from the windows of the lodge’s reception pavilion. But the view that most people come here for is that of the Takstang (“Tiger’s Nest”) Monastery, perched on a cliff face high above the floor of the Paro Valley. This is arguably Bhutan’s most photographed landmark, and the two-hour hike up to it is meant to be the crescendo of our visit.
But I give the Tiger’s Nest a miss. Sore from being on the road and woozy from the altitude, I opt instead for a long alfresco soak in a hot-stone bath at Amankora’s spa. And so my final afternoon in Bhutan doesn’t see me scrabbling up a mountainside, but rather wreathed in herb-scented mist in a wooden tub on the edge of a fern-fringed glade. And yes, I’m feeling very happy.
—
THE DETAILS
Bhutan or bust
—Getting There
At an elevation of 2,200 meters, Paro Airport is the entry point to Bhutan. Drukair (drukair.com .bt) flies there from Delhi, Kathmandu, Kolkata, Bangkok, and—as of September 2012—Singapore. Visa applications must be made in advance through a tour operator and you must travel as part of a tour group or under the auspices of a hotel.
—WHERE TO STAY
Suites at all five of the lodges on the Amankora (amanresorts.com) circuit
are priced from US$775 per night per person, based on double occupancy, which includes all meals, house beverages, laundry, and airport transfers. Guests staying a minimum of seven nights will get complimentary use of a private vehicle with driver and guide. Note: foreign visitors are not permitted to drive in Bhutan.