We’ve arrived.

Arrived at the beautiful Paro airport via DrukAir on a partly cloudy Sunday morning at 7 a.m.  Tired and exhausted but excited with anticipation, we were met some minutes later by the hospital driver and administrative assistant in a new Nissan Leaf, cute car and a tribute to the country’s effort to remain carbon negative, but with a boot much to small for all our luggage. Fortunately, I had quickly made friends on the flight in with Ujjwal, a young Bhutanese engineer employed evaluating technologies for potential introduction into the country.  Ujjwal, met by his wife, lives in Thimpu and insisted on delivering the remainder of our luggage to the apartment after stopping at their home to check in with their children.  A wonderful introduction to the friendly Bhutanese.

There are dozens of YouTube videos on the harrowing flight into Paro, the highest altitude airport in the world but close to none on how beautiful the airport is.  Our landing, manually piloted, was smooth, hardly noticeable.

I’ll blame it on the time change and the altitude, but overwhelmed by the spectacular drive I failed to take photos along the way.  Below is a YouTube link to one I’ll borrow.  Hopefully on the return trip I will have more presence of mind. I’ll blame it on the time change and the altitude, but overwhelmed by the spectacular drive I failed to take photos along the way.  Below is a YouTube link to one I’ll borrow.  Hopefully on the return trip I will have more presence of mind.

The drive followed the course of a river valley, climbing steadily to a pass, the route winding and with numerous switchbacks, crossing bridges twice for a safer climb, the river ultimately hundreds of meters below the road.  With cliffs and  abruptly steep mountains on one side, precipitous drops on the other, we shared the narrow road with oncoming trucks that had seen better days, independently ambling people, cows and horses, dogs taking leisurely naps mid-lane, infrequent homes sandwiched on narrow plots roadside, markets and the occasional chorten mid-road, a religious traffic circle. The traffic signs nicely clued us in to the nature of Bhutanese culture: “Be Kind and Courteous,” “No Hurry, No Worry,” “Be Patient on the Road,” “Observe Lane Discipline” and “Avoid Littering,” all  positive and affirmative pleasant yellow two by three placards at ground level.  The road was in remarkably good condition, ultimately growing to four lanes with a divider as we entered Thimphu.

Delivered to Flat #12 on the third floor of an apartment building, we breathlessly climbed the stairs, already feeling the altitude.  Margaret, weak and nauseous despite taking Diamox, promptly went to bed, barely managing a walk, hours later to the hospital, to be shown around by Karen Cassiday, the departing volunteer.  Margaret struggled to make it home and slept subsequently for 20 hours, modestly better on awakening.   I went down the block for a Bhutanese take on a decent pizza. Margaret’s  been gradually strengthening and we had a good trip by taxi ($1.40) the walkable distance into town to get supplies and be fitted for Kiras and Ghos (more on that in a later post) after a visit to the psychiatric ward to meet the team.  We lunched at the expat Ambient Café, purchased an electric frying pan and taxied home, again early to bed.

That’s it for now.  Much more to come.  Thanks for following.