Showing posts with label uma punakha. Show all posts
Showing posts with label uma punakha. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Bhutan 2014: On the Road To Trongsa

Joan and I are usually not fans of dining outdoors. Often the sun is in your eyes, or it's too hot, or the wind blows your napkin away, or there's noisy traffic at your elbow. This morning, May 7th, was different. The weather was perfect for breakfast on the terrace, under the shade of a table umbrella.

First, a view from our window at the Uma Punakha.
Across the valley the sun's rays were stretching for the Khamsum Yulley Namgyal, a temple built by the Queen Mother, one of the four wives (all sisters) of the fourth King. It's an easy hike from the suspension bridge where our rafts set out yesterday; Joan and I visited the temple in 2005, so not on this trip.
This morning was also a good birding opportunity. We saw a long-tailed shrike and a grey-backed shrike, although they were too distant for a photo. Yes, you must take your binoculars to breakfast. Here is a black bulbul.
Our journey to Trongsa started by driving on the eastern side of the Puna Tsang Chhu, past the New Town of Wangdi Phodrang  (alternatively Wangdue Phodrang). A screenshot from Google Maps is in order:
The old town, and the dzong, clung to the top of the bluff on the eastern side of the river, near the confluence with the Dang Chhu, at the bottom of the photo. The main road from Thimphu follows the western bank of the river, and crosses a bridge to climb to the old town.

It was perilous living atop the bluff, as this picture from 2009 shows. 
Not only was there a long fall, but the buildings were all old wooden structures and highly flammable. Therefore, the government decided to build a new, modern town in a better spot just north. The platting of the new town is easily visible in the Maps screenshot.

And then in June 2012 the dzong, built in 1638, burned to the ground. By good luck the relics kept in this third-oldest dzong in Bhutan had been moved elsewhere because of a renovation effort, and hence were safe. Bhutan has pledged to rebuild the dzong by the end of 2018, and the government of India is contributing at least half the funds.

The people have moved into New Town. It appears, from the road, to be inhabitable but unimaginative, like most planned communities. Additional colors, architectural styles, and some green space would improve it.

We kept going and joined the national highway, leaving the map heading east towards Nobding. There is a huge hydroelectric facility being constructed on the river south of Wangdue Phodrang, and the quarry supplying much of the material is on the national highway partway towards Nobding.

The pavement therefore often goes missing,
beaten, fractured, and scattered by all the trucks.
The government has concluded that there's no point in repaving until the hydro project is finished. I grabbed this snapshot of the quarry entrance as we drove by.
In some places mountain streams crossing the roadway had softened the hard-packed earth. We never became mired, but I wonder about the effect of the summer rains.
At Nobding we took a brief rest and snack stop. We had made quick stops in Nobding in 2005 and in 2009, but never at a restaurant.
It wasn't lunchtime yet, but we had tea and "biscuits" -- both salty and sweet crackers -- in what appeared to be a VIP alcove.
Photos of the past and present royalty hung on the walls. Here we see the third king of Bhutan and his wife. He reigned from 1952 - 1972 and began the modernization process of Bhutan, including freeing the serfs and introducing wheeled vehicles. His death at age 43 from lung cancer is the primary reason that tobacco is highly regulated in Bhutan.
This photo shows the young fourth king. He reigned from 1972 (at age 17) until he abdicated in favor of his eldest son in 2006, having accomplished great feats of careful modernization and the conversion, at his own initiative, of Bhutan to a constitutional monarchy.
This is the view from the restaurant towards Nobding.

We left Nobding and crossed Pele La, a pass at 3420 meters or about 11,200 feet, and then began the long descent towards Trongsa. Shortly before our lunch stop we paused while a truck offered assistance to a taxi that had run off the road.
I took this photo looking down the valley in the direction we were headed. We're not far from the village of Rukubji/Rukhubji, but we'll stop for lunch and a walk first.
Tshering sneaks into the photo of some flowers at our lunch stop, the Tushita Café. This restaurant is new to Joan and me.
Joan checks the bird book while the buffet is being set up; she had spotted a himalayan griffon vulture when we first stepped out of the van. It's a huge bird, and reminded us of the Andean condor.
We tucked into a great buffet. The Bhutanese food is tasty, and we discovered that we could eat with abandon and not gain weight. Joan and I decided it was because the food was prepared simply, and not with quantities of commercial fats and oils. Also, the dinner desserts were mostly fruit.

When we resumed our drive we passed the restaurant that we'd used in 2009. It was jammed with commercial bus traffic.

Joan, Tshering, and I disembarked from the van for a cross-country walk, and Kaka drove on to Rukhubji. First we worked our way downslope to the valley bottom, walking beside fields and over fences with wooden stepladders. Joan and I wore our rain jackets because the low clouds would occasionally let loose a few drops; Tshering had an umbrella.

Walking through Rukhubji was something I might not have had the nerve to do on my own, but with Tshering in the lead and serving as translator, I remained inside my comfort zone.
This building includes among its exterior art a phallus, an invocation of Drukpa Kunley/Kinley, the divine madman of the 15th Century.
There are also vegetable gardens.
At the edge of the village a new building is going up; this illustrates traditional Bhutanese architecture. A master carpenter marks the dimensions and lengths of the timber, and willing hands cut and fit.
As we left Joan and I were being teased by cuckoos that sounded as if they were only at arm's length, but we could never spot them. We broke off the search when a rain shower began to intensify, and in a few minutes were back in the van.

The light drizzle continued. We noticed well-dressed villagers waiting by the side of the road, mile after mile, even in the rain. They were waiting for a glimpse of the Je Khenpo, the head abbot and religious authority figure of Bhutan, who was making his way back from eastern Bhutan. If they were fortunate they would be able to give him some offerings.

The rain  lifted. Later on the road we encountered a troupe of rhesus macaques. (That ID appears to be a better fit than eastern assamese macaques, the other possibility.)
They were unafraid of us, and had obviously encountered people many times before. One had some yellow strings around his neck.
Consider the faces. Someone is in there, watching and waiting to see what will happen.
There was also a youngster.

In Trongsa we stayed at the Yangkhil Resort. Tshering advised us that, although it had been safe to partake of raw foods at the Zhiwa Ling in Paro and the Uma Punakha, now it was time for us chillips (foreign tourists) to eat uncooked food only when we could peel it ourselves. Joan and I also knew that it was time to switch from coffee to tea; this far east, any coffee ordered would be made from instant. This photo, taken the next day, shows the complete grounds of the Yangkhil.
Here was the easternmost extent of our prior travels in Bhutan. Tomorrow we would bash on.

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Bhutan 2014: Dochu La and Serchu Nature Trail

Early this morning, May 5th, a trio of horses trotted past the front of the Zhiwa Ling.
Today our guide Tshering showed his firm grasp of timing. The road between Thimphu and Punakha, which reaches an altitude of 10,200 feet (3116 meters) at Dochula, is undergoing a much-needed widening, and so is closed during certain hours. Tshering has scheduled our departure from Paro with this in mind.

Note: you will encounter spellings of Dochula, Dochu La, and Dochu-la. La is a syllable of many meanings; in this case, it means a pass. It is also an honorific or polite suffix, as in, "Ben-la, please close the door." It can also be used for emphasis, such as "Let's go, la!"

Before leaving the Zhiwa Ling the three of us attended a blessing ceremony to inaugurate our journey, in a shrine room on the third floor presided over by a resident monk. This shrine room has in its bones a history much deeper than the Zhiwa Ling; for example, much of the wood is originally from the Gangtey Gonpa (monastery) and was obtained when it was renovated. Joan and I had visited Gangtey both during (2005) and after (2009) its renovation. The shrine is not a tourist attraction. The blessing ceremony was very moving, even though we understood not a word.

Here is the Zhiwa Ling monk. He usually is full of smiles, but when he agreed to have his picture taken, he became very serious. The windows of the shrine room are visible in the upper left.
The ceremony also blessed a string of prayer flags that we were to put up in the pass of Thrumshing La several days hence. It is important to place them during an auspicious day, so we are to string them on our way out.

The road to Punakha skirts the southern end of Thimphu, the capital, and then starts climbing. We arrived at the end of the line of waiting vehicles only five minutes before the road opened.
The road is none too wide to begin with, but for all practical purposes it's the only way to move between Thimphu and Punakha. It carries heavy truck traffic in addition to passenger vehicles.
The first fifteen or twenty minutes at the pass was a steady rush of vehicles. All the tourist buses pause here to disgorge their chillips (the Bhutanese word for "foreign tourist"), who view the 108 chortens commissioned by the eldest Queen Mother to commemorate the deceased of the 2003 campaign to expel Indian separatists from southern Bhutan. If the weather is good there is also a panorama of the high Himalayas. This happens mostly in winter, and today it was misty.

I took this photo of the pass after the rush, from the steps leading up to the Druk Wangyal Lakhang, a new temple dedicated to the 4th King of Bhutan, the father of the current king.
This image was taken later, from ground level, with a couple of straggler tourist buses in view.
Visitors can walk among the chortens; there is a gate. To be respectful you should walk in a clockwise direction.
Each chorten displays art of carved and painted slate.

The lakhang was locked at first, but the guide for another family found the caretaker monk, who opened the temple for us all to visit. Photography of the interior was not allowed, of course, but I must remark on the contemporary style of its artwork. There are two levels of gallery, and, to quote from a longer article,
the mezzanine gallery, not found in other Bhutanese lhakhangs, depicts the story of the Wangchuck dynasty in aesthetic splendour. A genealogical mirror traces the royal lineage that identifies His Majesty King Jigme Singye Wangchuck as the 18th direct descendant of Pema Lingpa. The gallery draws on scriptures, mythological accounts, historical texts, oral stories, and artistic creativity to narrate the historical details from the time of Jigme Namgyal.
I wish I could have shown this gallery to you.

Here is a panoramic view of the temple exterior, which is set on the top of a rise next to the pass.
Another view of the central section.
After Joan and I visited the lakhang it was time for lunch. Both the restaurant and the temple were new to us on this trip. In this picture, the restaurant is on the right while slightly higher and to the left is a compound with accommodations for the royal family.
The interior of the restaurant was bright and inviting.

After lunch it was time to push on. To work in walking on a day with lots of driving, and to synchronize with road openings east of the pass, Joan, Tshering, and I were walking on the Serchu Nature Trail twenty minutes after leaving Dochula.
The trail began through the caretaker's farm, but then began working its way up and down through several ravines.
There were footbridge crossings.
Joan spotted several birds, but none in a good position for my camera. This jack-in-the-pulpit, however, posed for me. Click to enlarge.
The color of this himalayan birch was an impressive sight for us North Americans, accustomed as we are to paler varieties.
Kaka and the van were waiting for us at the end of the trail, and we drove on to Punakha. We paused for some photos of the dzong, but did not linger. This dzong was the seat of Bhutan's government until the capital was moved to Thimphu in 1955, and continues to be the winter home of the monk body and Bhutan's religious leader, the Je Khenpo.
One of the glories of visiting in May was seeing the jacarandas in bloom.
Punakha dzong sits at the confluence of the rivers Mo Chhu and Po Chhu. We drove up the valley of the Mo Chhu to our hotel for the next two nights, the Uma Punakha.

While checking in we paused for a down-valley view from the terrace.
The pigs traveling with us on this trip, Thelma and Louise, approved of the view from our room.
The room was well appointed but smaller than the one in the Zhiwa Ling.
We were warned by the staff member showing us the room that the thermostat would be deactivated if the power went off. Joan and I didn't think much about this until the power flickered off for ten to twenty seconds several times the first night, necessitating a walk over to the thermostat each time. If this happens while you are asleep, you'll awaken to a stuffy room.

Tomorrow would be another active day, starting with a rafting trip down the Mo Chhu.