I had been toying with the idea of going there for what seems like ages, but time, and financial constraints, forced me to put it off for a few years. Then whilst trekking in Nepal I decided to take the plunge. It is in the relatively unexplored pockets of Asia, which allows only limited number of discerning travelers to enter the country in order to protect its fragile environment and culture. Bhutan imposes strict environmental standards; a staggering 65% of the land remains under forest cover. The trip was not a backpacking trip per se, since foreign visitors have to pay approx US$250 per day to visit this small land locked country between India and Tibet.
But of course being an Indian, this rule did not apply to me as Indians don’t need a Visa or have to mandatory spend that many $$. As I had never been to this country, exploring the culture was to play a large part of this trip.
The National currency is Ngultrum (Nu) 100 Chetrum = 1 Nu. Indian Rupees circulate at par.
After my Nepal trek, I took an overnight bus from Kathmandu to the border town of Kakarbhitta which takes around 17-18 hours and is approx 600 kms away. That is one ride I will never forget in my life as it was a local bus, no reclining seats with loud music playing, people eating and drinking inside the bus, making a hell of a noise.
The bus started around 2pm from Kathmandu and once outside the valley, something happened to the driver. He refused to reduce the speed all the while navigating sharply through the mountain curves. The ride was bumpy on the mountain roads and everyone was jumping up and down their seats. I was clinging on to the seats, trying to have a conversation with the fellow passengers. Slowly nightfall came and we stopped for dinner, everyone went for the standard meals (Dal-Bhat set) and there was special food waiting for the driver with a bottle of local liquor. And after that the way he drove the whole night, I was not able to close my eye lids even for a minute. When I looked around, saw most of the passengers were sound sleep, moving in rhythm to the shaking bus. I thanked the lord when the bus finally reached Kakarbhitta, all the bones in my body were rattled to the code. My backside was hurting like anything and I was not able to walk straight for some time.
From this town to the border, I hired an open bi-cycle cart with 3 wheels.
I threw my backpack on the backside of the cart and sat facing backwards with my legs dangling down…. Big Mistake…. As the cart hit the road, the cart puller started increasing the speed, and finally it reached a slope with pot holes. The brakes did not work, as I came to know later and as the cart was passing the pot holes I was thrown up and landed on the ground with a thump. The driver didn’t knew what happened and he was merrily navigating the potholes, when suddenly he saw people screaming at him to look back. There I was sitting in the middle of the road, all the people laughing at me at 6’o clock in the morning, my backpack also landed some 15 feet away from me, and my cart going down till the end of slope and came to a stop, why, because the brakes did not work. The cart driver then came running towards me as I was trying to get up, he took my backpack and helped me walk towards the cart. He was apologizing furiously and all the while asking me why I did not shout to let him know that I had fallen down.
We passed the Nepal immigration, no need to stamp passport, no questions were asked, and reached the India immigration. Both the border town is separated by a river named “Mechi”. There is a bridge which is a no mans land.
While sitting on the cart itself, I waved my India passport and was waved back to pass along. All this happened while we were riding on the cart within a matter of a few seconds, the cart didn’t have to stop for any immigration or customs check. The Indian immigration and customs is a small hut which seemed to be manned by some sleepy men.
This made me wonder how porous the Nepal India border was, but then realized, how many other foreigners would be using this route, and how many of them would take this 3 wheel open cart at 6 in the morning. Moreover the immigration guys might be looking for obvious foreigners for documentation checking, not some Indian or Nepali who might be crossing the border everyday. I reached the India border town called Panitanki and from there took a local bus to Silguri via a town called Ranigunj. After reaching Silguri, I walked into a bank which was just opening up and checked to change currency to Bhutan currency. This guy looks at me, from top to bottom and scorns at me that Indian currency is accepted everywhere in Bhutan.
I walked back to the Silguri bus stand and had my breakfast at the roadside stalls, some hot samosas (something like potato stuffed bread, deep fried in oil) and chai (Tea).
Started looking around for bus to India border town of Jaigoan from where have to cross the border to enter Phuntsholing, the border town of Bhutan. The bus ride took around 5 hours and then from Jaigoan a shared auto (like tuk-tuk) to the border. Indian immigration guys checked my passport and I crossed over to Bhutan. I had to look around for the permit office to go beyond the border town of Phuntsholing. As it was lunch time, had to wait with a bunch of Indian businessmen and labors all applying for the permit. As I was going for tourist purpose, was given preference over all the others and within 1 hr got my permit and was off to the bus stand. A shared taxi to the town of Thimpu, the capital of Bhutan, through the cloud covered mountains.
The Indian side was full of traffic, shops and dust, but once crossed Phuntsholing the climate changed and started getting chilly. We stopped at a checkpost, showed my permit, had a cup of tea with the police guys and off to Thimpu. The view was amazing and realized why this place is called the Last Shangi-La. Since it was a monsoon season, all mountains were green and covered in clouds. It was a welcome ride after the 2 days rough bus ride from Kathmandu to Kakarbhitta, to Silguri to Phutntsholing.
