{"id":42523,"date":"2015-10-08T13:54:42","date_gmt":"2015-10-08T12:54:42","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.voyages-d-affaires.com\/bhoutan-voyage-au-pays-du-bonheur-national-brut-20151008.html"},"modified":"2020-04-03T14:31:09","modified_gmt":"2020-04-03T12:31:09","slug":"bhutan-a-journey-to-the-land-of-gross-national-happiness","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.voyages-d-affaires.com\/en\/bhutan-a-journey-to-the-land-of-gross-national-happiness","title":{"rendered":"Bhutan: a journey to the land of Gross National Happiness"},"content":{"rendered":"

In the 17th century, Ngawang Namgyal unified the \"Land of the Thunder Dragon\" and created a network of dzongs across Bhutan. Like the Rimpung Dzong in Paro, these fortresses had several functions. One was, of course, to protect the valleys from invasions from neighbouring Tibet, but another was to house both the local administration and the religious authorities.<\/span><\/p>\n

A trip to Bhutan begins like the overture to an Italian opera: lively, masterful and perfectly staged. Minus the orchestra pit, because there's no need for music on the steps of Rinpung Dzong. Instead, the furious rush of a river tumbling down the Himalayan glaciers adds to the magic of this curtain-raiser on one of the most beautiful countries in the world. A small kingdom no bigger than Switzerland, wedged between India and Tibet.<\/p>\n

A dzong, in other words, the Bhutanese version of what our fortified castles once were. Only more sophisticated and much more elaborate. The result is a rectangular base of whitewashed stone, then, high up on the walls, a row of loopholes corbelled over a flight of wide mullioned windows. All underlined by a very elegant red. Above, as if suspended a few metres from the last stones, hovers the gold of a pagoda roof.<\/p>\n

A stone's throw from the international airport<\/h2>\n

Access to this \"fortress of accumulated jewels\", consecrated in the 16th century, is via the only covered bridge still in existence in the entire country. The first courtyard, a vast quadrilateral lined with arcades, once housed the administration and still does today. It is separated from a second courtyard by a powerful keep, which is very strong but also highly decorated. As in all dzongs, as we shall see later, this part is traditionally reserved for the religious. Everything is painted, sculpted and embellished with frescoes, including three remarkable cosmic mandalas evoking the creation of the world, as well as a curious composition reminiscent of Hieronymus Bosch's Garden of Delights.<\/p>\n

\"Having<\/p>\n

The tone is set, just a stone's throw from the international airport. And let's talk about this tiny airport, and above all its approach by plane. One of the most spectacular ever, when the aircraft, an Airbus A319, bobs between the mountains, practically skimming them with its wing, veering to the right and then to the left, threading its way through a steep-sided valley, skimming past a hilltop village and, finally, dipping towards the runway. Thank God, the pilots of Drukair, the small national airline, have a reputation for being among the best in the world.<\/p>\n

And then there's the shock. First with the airport reception building, built in the purest Bhutanese style, dzong style, but also with the costumes of the nationals, who don't mince their words. Particularly the men, almost all of whom wear a sort of knee-length chasuble, straight in front, pleated in the back and matched with long black socks. It's quite nice, actually. In any case, by royal decree, it's compulsory throughout the country; at least when you're working in direct contact with the public or in a sacred place. As a result, almost everyone wears a skirt. Airport staff wear skirts, guides wear skirts and drivers wear skirts... In the end, you get used to it quite quickly.<\/p>\n

For reasons of geography, mountains and intertwined valleys, Paro international airport is located some fifty km from Thimphu, the capital. The road between the two towns is a beautiful one, winding its way along a rushing torrent, crossing rice fields, plunging into gorges and revealing the first temples, stupas and prayer flags planted everywhere in the mountains, entrusting their good wishes to all winds.<\/p>\n

\"In<\/p>\n

\"The<\/p>\n

\"The<\/p>\n

Capital in lower case<\/h2>\n

Everything is built in the vernacular style, whitewashed, with reddish-brown corbelled windows and roofs levitating curiously above the buildings. Not a single warty building, not a prefabricated pavilion to mar the landscape. And it's like that everywhere. Even in the capital. Oh dear, the capital! In fact, a small town with a population of 100,000, which is huge for Bhutan. A sort of street town perched 3,000 metres above sea level, with just one 'high-risk' junction coordinated by a proud policeman who climbs into a sentry box and wafts the clammy air above the flowing traffic. A traffic light? There's no question of that, given the only attempt made in this direction, which quickly turned into a total fiasco. For the moment, Bhutan remains the only country in the world without traffic lights. So, as you might expect, it's not the city tour that's weighing down the schedule. Even on foot. So there's this street with high pavements, the Norzim Lam, lined with shops from another age; there's a tiny clocktower; there are prayer wheels, students in skirts and monks in orange, a few young people in jeans and rare girls in high heels; There's also the Sunday market, as colourful as any in the world; there are a few luxury hotels, including the recent Taj, built like an ancient fortress; and at the end of it all there's the Tashichhoedzong, the 'fortress of the Happy Religion', both monastery and seat of parliament.<\/p>\n

Because there is also a democratically elected parliament in this insane kingdom where, one day in 1998, the king decided to leave the fate of the country in the hands of his people by handing over executive power to a council of ministers elected by secret ballot. This iconoclastic king - and father of the current Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck, crowned at the end of 2008 - was then the fourth sovereign of Bhutan, a worthy representative of a dynasty that was actually quite young, having been born in 1907. Among other things, he came up with the extravagant concept of Gross National Happiness, a measurement index based on Buddhist principles and widely preferred to GNP values, which were no doubt deemed a little too pragmatic for the Himalayan mind. As a result, it would seem that the King has decided to enjoy life instead and, it is said in the Thimphu valley, it is not uncommon to come across him pedalling his bicycle in all simplicity. As for Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck, he is continuing in his father's footsteps by modernising the country - converted to the Internet and television in 1999 - while remaining attentive to the values of ecology and heritage preservation. The icing on the cake is that, in October 2009, this young and extremely handsome king married his queen, who is also stunningly beautiful. No doubt it would be a shame otherwise, but they will live happily ever after and have many children...<\/p>\n

\"1<\/p>\n

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\"3<\/p>\n

\"4<\/p>\n

The forest up there<\/h2>\n

In the meantime, the capital slumbers under a clear blue sky, nestling in a valley overlooked by green, rounded mountains. At an altitude of 3,000 metres, this is not without its surprises, given the conditioning of Alpine summits where vegetation, apart from grass, is totally absent above 2,000 metres. Like so many other things, you'll soon get used to these forests that live up to 4,000 metres.<\/p>\n

You'll get used to the forests, of course, but you'll have a bit more trouble with the altitude. Without going as far as mountain sickness, which can lead to severe headaches and sometimes even unpleasant nausea during the first two or three days, you'll have to get used to the shortness of breath that comes with the slightest climb. As far as Thimphu is concerned, this includes the flight of stairs leading up to the Textile Museum, which may have made a slight assumption about the physical condition of the newcomer. This will give you a chance to sit back and wonder, quite humanly, what could possibly be on the other side of these mountains. In fact, as always in Bhutan, there are other mountains, other valleys, other scenery, all similar and yet all different.<\/p>\n

So off we go to Punakha via a road - oh, the road - over the Dochu La pass, at an altitude of 3,110 metres. 85 km and between three and four hours of twists and turns, potholes, muddy stretches and roadworks promising better days... But also villages and solitary farms, waterfalls and panoramas far surpassing any photos we'd seen before setting off. Early in the morning and in fine weather, at the Dochu La pass, the Himalayan range comes into view, covered in eternal snow. Nothing less than the land of the Yeti.<\/p>\n

\"The<\/p>\n

For the moment, at 1pm, there's not much to see, as the entire site is covered in clouds. And that's just as well, because these clouds, a real pea soup, add to the magic of the Druk Wangyal, a monument of 108 ch\u00f6rten, in other words white steles erected in concentric circles and erected in 2005 at the request of Queen Ashi Dorje Wangmo to commemorate a victory over rebels taking refuge in the Bhutanese jungle. Once again, no expense is spared with the prayer flags, which poetically flash their colours through the white shreds of mist. Then it's the descent to Punakha, a 1,300 metre climb in no time, through a magnificent forest of giant rhododendrons and blue pines which, as the descent progresses, becomes tropical enough to welcome - who would have thought? - orange, banana and bamboo trees.<\/p>\n

Punakha. A small village of little interest, where you can still stop to recover from the dizziness of the rollercoaster, to have a cup of tea with milk in a popular tavern, or to fill up on colourful chemical sweets, too-salty crisps or too-sweet industrial cakes; in short, everything you shouldn't have, but which you'll fill up on with relish all the same. Cigarettes? No way! Bhutan, certainly a forerunner in this field, is the first country in the world to ban the sale of tobacco... But that's not why we jumped over the mountain. The main reason we're here is for the Punakha dzong, the Druk Pungthang Dechhen Phodrang, the \"Palace of Great Joy\". A marvel situated at the confluence of two wide torrents, this sublime vessel was built in the 17th century and housed the political authorities until the mid-1950s, when they moved to Thimphu.<\/p>\n

\"Two<\/p>\n

Once over the bridge spanning the river, where happy otters frolic, the first courtyard is richly embellished with half-timbering, defining spaces with windows and galleries. The whole, set against white foliage, is sculpted, worked and painted in red, ochre, yellow and black. The colour scheme is perfect and, when carefully considered, exactly reflects that of the monks' robes and accessories. This first courtyard is bordered by the high walls of a square tower and opens onto a second space, then a third housing the very active monastery. Paving stones, a few potted plants... peace on earth.<\/p>\n

Huge surprise<\/h2>\n

A little further down the valley, a huge surprise, no pun intended, awaits the visitor. It's so unexpected, so enormous, that it's impossible to ignore it. Suddenly, the facades of the houses are adorned with gigantic phalluses, which are, after all, quite realistic. They're everywhere. Painted on the walls of the houses, hanging from the four corners of the roofs, placed in mega sculptures like the thumbs of the sculptor C\u00e9sar in the restaurants or offered as souvenirs in the village stalls... They don't shock anyone, and certainly not the children, except perhaps a few prudish tourists. They're just part of the landscape. Why are they there? Because the site is home to the Chimey Lhakhang temple dedicated to the \"divine madman\" Drukpa Kunley (1455-1529), an outrageous, exhibitionist and even obscene lama who was reputed to cure women of sterility. This is still the case today, and it's not uncommon for women in need of a child to come and kneel here. Now that the monk has been dead for a very long time, we don't know whether it still works.<\/p>\n

The fact remains that the walk to his temple, a dirt track passing through villages and rice paddies where farmers toil, is truly delightful. In fact, the whole valley is enchanting. The very big names in luxury hotels, Uma and Aman Resorts, have made no mistake. They offer exceptional country boutique hotels, some with rooms with a view and others with bungalows scattered around an old royal farm. To distract from this cultural, not to say mystical, adventure, they all offer activities related to the country: mountain biking, rafting, cookery classes, horse riding or, better still, archery or darts, the two favourite sports of the Bhutanese.<\/p>\n

\"1<\/p>\n

\"2<\/p>\n

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\"Bhutan\"<\/p>\n

\"4<\/p>\n

Buttock twister<\/h2>\n

Bhutan is a land of intertwined valleys. With, as a bonus, mountains so high that they would scratch an aeroplane's belly. But never, God forbid, would we have thought that these valleys were so deserving. So, to reach the Phobjikha valley, which is not very far from the previous one as the crow flies, you have to take the one and only mountain road that opens up the valley. Is it a road at all? More like a dirt track skirting precipices, a twisting buttock, a journey made difficult by construction machinery at work, but nevertheless brightened up from time to time by groups of mischievous monkeys.<\/p>\n

This adventure should only be reserved for groups with a little time to spare. And they'll be in luck. At an altitude of 2,900 metres, the glacial valley of Phobjikha is unique. Highly protected, it is home in winter to a large colony of black-necked cranes, which prefer to spend the summer in Tibet. A very modern observation centre, perfectly integrated into the landscape, has recently opened and offers many long views and explanatory videos. As well as learning about their daily lives, visitors can also discover the spiritual value that these lucky birds hold for the local population.<\/p>\n

\"1<\/p>\n

\"2<\/p>\n

However, true spirituality can be found just next door, at the very active Gangtey Goemba monastery, which has been perched on an isolated hill since 1613 and dominates the entire valley. With its perfect proportions, its pagoda roofs and high white walls, its romantic mists, its innumerable monks of all ages, beating out their rosaries as they emerge from their daily ritual; with all this, and a few beautiful smiles to boot, it's frankly hard not to subscribe to the unspeakable mystery of the sacred. There are places like this all over the world. And this is certainly one of them.<\/p>\n

The best view of this scenery is from the top of another hill, from the corridors of the very chic Gangtey Goenpa Lodge hotel. The lodge also offers its guests long vantage points from which to watch the cranes chattering away below. \"Of course, we have this unique atmosphere<\/em>says Ateeb Shrestha, general manager of the lodge. But there's a lot more on offer, from fun activities like archery and darts, to more sporting activities like mini trekking, and downright hilarious activities like football matches between young monks and hotel guests. To add a little more spice to the game, we put the 'hotel' team in monk costume. There's nothing sacrilegious about this - the Bhutanese love it when foreigners adopt their outfits.<\/em>\"But the ultimate summer treat is to take part in an elegant picnic organised by the hotel. With white tablecloths, a stylish ma\u00eetre d' and ad hoc table service. However, if you're looking for authenticity, lunch at a local's home is preferable. It's less glamorous, but certainly much more rewarding. Like the one offered by this family in their own farmhouse, a beautiful, rustic nineteenth-century building with plenty of old wood, chiaroscuro nooks and crannies and windows overlooking the meadow where cows and horses graze. Sometimes yaks too. But only in winter.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

As well as visiting a building with a great soul, this will be an opportunity to try ema datsi, the dish that the Bhutanese make their daily routine, for once not sanitised by the chef of a large hotel who, no doubt, would be immediately sacked if he ventured to serve it, as is, to a foreigner unaccustomed to the raw flavour of chilli. Raw, not to say brutal! Because here, housewives cook red chillies the way they cook vegetables elsewhere. Fortunately, there's white rice to accompany them and, incidentally, to help them get through the heat... There's also an excellent melted cheese and sometimes Tibetan momos, steamed ravioli filled with meat or cheese. Delicious, but admittedly a little repetitive. In any case, it's safe to say that Bhutanese cuisine will never go down in gastronomic history.<\/p>\n

\"Omnipresent<\/p>\n

\"Both<\/p>\n

A marvellous pilgrimage site<\/h2>\n

In the meantime, one day we'll have to come down from these high mountains to reach altitudes that are a little more Christian. Back to Paro, then, and its airport, which was such a surprise on arrival. But before that, like the finale of a grand opera, we will end our journey on a grand stage, with a final visit to a monastery, the Taktsang hermitage or the \"tiger's den\", as if suspended between heaven and earth on the steep face of a black mountain. It's a marvel, and a major pilgrimage site throughout the Himalayas. But it's an exception that has to be earned, with a two- or three-hour climb on a mountain path through a forest of lichen trees. It's a real obstacle course that you finish out of breath, almost on your knees, a golgotha marked out by prayer banners... But what a reward, once you're up there. Chapels, staircases cut into the rock, gilded roofs, openwork temples... And also monks at prayer and pilgrims entrusting their destiny to Buddha. Bhutan is a country of great mystique. And at the end of the day, on an exceptional corporate trip or bleisure holiday, if you haven't found your own 'Gross Inner Happiness', you can at least be sure of one thing: you've had a great trip. The most beautiful of journeys, perhaps.<\/p>\n

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