Bhutan: The Land That Changes You
A week is good for Bhutan travel, but for solace, maybe stay a lifetime.
Not all journeys go as planned. Some take unexpected turns, leaving behind stories you tell for a lifetime.
Bhutan? This was one of those.
It was supposed to be simple. A train from Kolkata to Phuentsholing, then a ride to Thimphu. What could go wrong?
Well… the train was delayed by eight hours. By the time we reached the border, no taxis, no buses, nothing. Just the quiet of the night and the looming question—what now?
So, we did the only thing we could. Crossed the border on foot.
Midnight in an unfamiliar town, knocking on hotel doors, hoping someone would take us in for the night. This wasn’t the trip I planned, but it was already becoming the trip I’d never forget.
The next morning, the real adventure began.
Thimphu: The City Without Traffic Lights
Route: Phuentsholing → Thimphu
Route: Thimphu → Dochula Pass → Punakha
If Bhutan had a heartbeat, it would be Thimphu. A city that moves at its own pace, where cars flow without signals, and where time feels slower—but never still.
The road to Thimphu was unlike anything I had ever seen. One moment, thick clouds swallowed everything, making us feel like we were driving through the sky. The next, the clouds would part, and below us, stretching endlessly, was a river so blue it felt unreal.
Somewhere along that ride, as we clung to the mountain’s edge, looking down at the valley below, we all silently agreed—we were taking a flight back home. No way were we doing this drive again.
🚗 Getting around? Rent a car or take a taxi. Either way, don’t expect traffic lights. Bhutan doesn’t need them.
🛕 Buddha Dordenma: Towering over the city, this massive golden Buddha sits atop a hill, looking down at the valley below. What’s fascinating? There are more miniature Buddhas inside Thimphu than there are people in the entire country.
🍂 Dochula Pass: A road wrapped in mist, lined with 108 white chortens. On a clear day, the Himalayan peaks stand tall in the distance. A place where the air feels lighter, where silence feels sacred.
Punakha Dzong: The Monks’ Winter Home
Bhutan moves with the seasons. In the summer, the monks retreat to the monasteries high in the mountains. But in winter, they come to Punakha Dzong.
Standing at the confluence of two rivers, the Pho Chu and Mo Chu, Punakha Dzong is a fortress, a monastery, and an administrative center—all in one. But more than that, it’s a place that feels alive.
We watched monks walk in slow, rhythmic steps, their maroon robes swaying in the breeze. I remember staring at the intricate wood carvings, wondering how something so massive could feel so delicate.But Bhutan isn’t just about temples and monasteries. It’s about the people.
The Warmth of Bhutanese Hospitality
This is a country where you don’t just eat food—you experience it.
We stayed with a local family. I still remember their kindness. They didn’t ask what we wanted to eat—they took us to their farm and told us to pick.
The fields stretched out in front of us, and we wandered through, hands brushing against fresh produce. We picked a pumpkin. That night, we ate what might have been the best pumpkin stew of my life.
🌱 Bhutan is 100% organic. No pesticides. No chemicals. Just pure, natural food that tastes like the earth intended.
As we sat around their kitchen, they told us stories. Did you know Bhutan had a different religion before Buddhism?
It was called Bonism. A belief system that worshipped nature, rivers, mountains, and forests. Suddenly, it all made sense. Bhutan is carbon-negative, not because they have to be, but because they want to be. They don’t just protect nature—they revere it.
Here, the rivers are sacred. The trees are sacred. The land is sacred. And not a single piece of trash is left behind.That night, under a sky bursting with stars, I realized—Bhutan doesn’t just teach you about sustainability. It makes you feel it.
Paro & The Climb to Tiger’s Nest
Route: Punakha → Paro
The next morning, we set off for Paro.
If you think you know mountains, you haven’t met the road from Thimphu to Paro. Twisting, turning, climbing, descending—every turn brings a new view, and every view is better than the last.
And then, we saw it.
Tiger’s Nest Monastery. Clinging to the edge of a cliff, 3,000 feet above the valley.
The legend? Guru Padmasambhava flew here on the back of a tiger and meditated in the caves. The monastery was built around those very caves.
The trek? Tiring.
Every few minutes, we stopped—not because we wanted to, but because the monastery looked more beautiful from every angle.
🏔 One turn—it’s framed by trees.
🏔 Another—it’s a silhouette against the sky.
🏔 A little higher—it looks impossible, as if floating in the air.
But we kept moving. Legs burning, breath heavy, but hearts full.
And then, we reached.
Standing at the monastery’s entrance, looking down at the world below, I understood why people call this one of the greatest wonders of the world.
It wasn’t just about where it was built. It was about why it was built.
For centuries, people have climbed this mountain in search of something—peace, wisdom, answers. And in that moment, standing on the edge of that cliff, I knew I had found something too.
A Farewell, A New Perspective
Our last night in Bhutan, back with our local family, we took a hot stone bath.
In Bhutan, people believe stones release heat when soaked in water, carrying healing energy. As we lay there, the aches of the trek melting away, I thought about how much this place had given me.
The next morning, we had breakfast overlooking Paro Valley. The air was crisp, the sky impossibly blue.
And then, we left.
But Bhutan doesn’t leave you.
You come for the mountains, the monasteries, the adventure.
You leave with something else—a changed perspective.
Some places you travel for fun. Some, you travel to learn.
Bhutan? You travel to understand.