Travel
W
e have no stoplights
here. The cows are our
traffic control,” my
guide says as we wait in
the car for a mother and
her calves to cross the road. They’re
in no hurry.
Neither am I. It has taken some doing
to get to Paro, Bhutan, and I’m glad
to have made it. To begin with there
was the visa business. While the
country is open to tourism it is not
open to everyone. The government
has made a decision to cultivate
affluent travelers by limiting visas
to those who meet a minimum
spend requirement. “We don’t want
backpackers,” I was told by several
sources during my visit. Travelers
are expected to be accompanied by
licensed guides.
representative of Uma Paro lodge
and given a long white shawl,
a traditional Bhutanese welcome.
The shawl was made of sheer fabric
and would come in handy over the
next few days to cover my lower
face when the wind picked up dust
during my hikes.
It was a ten-minute drive to the
lodge (okay, fifteen minutes
including the cows). Uma Paro
overlooks the valley of the Paro
Then there was the Airbus 319 flight
through windy Himalayan passes
aboard the national carrier Druk
Airlines. The final descent into Paro
was the most turbulent I’ve ever
experienced, though nothing I hadn’t
been warned about, starting with
the thorough five-page pre-trip
information packet COMO Resorts
sent me. But after the pilot came
over the system with a reminder
about seatbelts a few minutes
before the excitement began,
I knew I was in professional hands,
like being with an expert whitewater
guide through river rapids, and I
happily cast my fate to the wind.
On the ground I was met by a
Paro Valley. Photo
courtesy Uma Paro
by COMO Resorts
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