The Kingdom of Bhutan is an amazing place. A closed country for most of its existence, it is slowly opening its doors to tourism. Very slowly, and just a crack. There is no tourist industry as we know it. There is a government per day charge to be in the country, and travel must be arranged through a government agency and accompanied by a government approved tour agent. It all sounds very controlled and uncomfortable, but it wasn't. The tour agent I had was incredibly polite, informative, and spoke good enough English. The driver spoke no English.
Travel into Bhutan by foreigners is only allowed through the governments airline, DrukAir. No border crossing. You land in Paro valley, a small valley in the middle of the Eastern Himalayas. You approach so close to the mountains it feels like the plane is going to scrape the trees, and then the plane reduces altitude so steeply it feels like you are crashing. The airport consists of a single airstrip with a small building adjoining. Getting off the plane you go through customs, which is a counter with two lines; the line for Bhutanese and the line for foreigners. There were three other foreigners on my flight so it went quickly. The first thing I noticed was the crazy outfits the guys were wearing. Its like a plaid ninja outfit without the pants, and with knee high socks pulled up tight with dress shoes. I assumed this was some cruel decision by the airport manager - I quickly found out its the national dress. All men are required to wear the same outfit in any government building (which is most buildings), or at work. Woman are required to wear an outfit similar to a saree, but made of the same plaid material.
Bhutan is cold. Really cold. The mornings were -11 Celcius, warming up to 0 or so midday.
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