World Bhutan Paro

India, Bhutan and Nepal

Why I came to Bhutan - the Tiger's Lair Jan 2, 2009

HIGHLIGHTS

• Taktsang Monastery – the Tiger’s Lair

DETAIL

We leave Thimphu and head back to the first place I stayed – Paro. It’s the second largest city in Bhutan – 36,000 and has the country’s only airport. Its only about an hour drive on a good road but very twisty and turny.

After checking in its time for the ‘Tiger’s Lair’, a monastery perched on the side of a cliff 900 metres above the valley. Buddha flew here on the back of his consort who had manifested into a flying tigress.

I don’t want either: mouth to mouth, carried down in a stretcher, burnt at the top, chopped up and fed to the birds, so I take a horse to the restaurant half way up.

I mount Dobbin or whatever his name is and up we go. The first part is pretty flat but it gets steeper and steeper and I am leaning forward and touching the mane of the horse with my chest. But Dobbin has done this a few times before. He stops when he needs a break and for those who have ridden a horse, you will understand the feeling of a horse panting between your legs.

We make it to the restaurant and stop for tea and I stare at the monastery above – only another 400 metres to go. The tea is weak and sweet and I sip and think about my upcoming heart rate and the cliff edges.

Up ‘n at ‘em and Sangay and I start the final climb. Along the way I say high to folks on the way down: an American evangelical from LA, an Indian woman living in California and I stop to catch my breath before moving on.

We are hiking on trails very similar to Vancouver, i.e. the Baden Powel Trail and we get to the steps and when I turn the corner and there is the Tiger’s lair across the gorge.

It’s time for a photo op or more to the point an excuse to catch my breath for it’s a tough walk.

This Dzong is perched on the side of the cliff and I am astounded that the building material was carried up from the valley in 1638 – such devotion and dedication.

This is an active monastery with about fifty monks who live above the Dzong. Methinks that these monks are a tad ‘out-there’ who seeks spiritual enlightenment far beyond my imagination.

Its lunch time at the Dzong and we cannot enter so I sit and stare at the valley below and at the waterfall. I am not moved by the experience but I am by these monks’s strength to go about their business and find ‘it’, what ever it is. We sit a spell and as all dongs look the same so we don’t go in so we head back for lunch. It’s the usual: rice, potatoes, vegetables, more potatoes and even more rice, for they love their rice.

And now the final hike down to base camp. It’s a good hike down and I run down as it’s easier to run than walk and we make it in an hour.

On the way down I meet a Bhutanese who is about to have a picnic with his family on the grassy slopes under the Dzong – what a nice man he is.

We get back to the city and it’s a national holiday so what do people do on a national holiday – archery. These archers are, well different. First they use bows made of metal and the wire is in a pulley configuration. Next the targets are 150 metres from the tee, and the target is about one third of a metre wide. It’s a bit like curling: The teams are at either end of the targets and when a team wins a round they do a little dance and it quite lovely. It’s simple.

It was an excellent day, clear skies and my face is a tad red from the sun!