Happy country: welcome to Bhutan!

Touchdown happiness can be as easy as landing, provided you actually make it in one piece. And trust me, this landing is definitely worth every heartbeat skipped: welcome to Paro, Bhutan, officially one of the most dangerous airports on the planet. Here, pilots can only land in visual mode (no instruments), and need a special licence to do so. Only about fifty in the world passed it, let’s hope ours is one of them!

The plane zig-zags between mountains, only catching sight of the runway at the last moment after a dramatic final turn. It’s heart-pounding, jaw-dropping, and the perfect showstopper to a stunning flight from Kathmandu—another contender in the “world’s most dangerous airports” club… but let us not worry, Buddha was born in Nepal and is keeping a protective eye on us!

As a bonus, we finally got to glimpse the entire snow-capped Everest range in all its pristine glory. Utterly breathtaking.

A very appropriate introduction to Bhutan, the Land of Happiness !

Anyone who's ever heard the name of this small kingdom tucked away in the far northeast of India knows: in Bhutan, the king is on a mission to keep his subjects happy. About fifteen years ago, he decreed that instead of measuring GDP (Gross Domestic Product), Bhutan would track GNH—Gross National Happiness.

Happy subjects, then. But are they truly happy by choice? How much owes to their benevolent monarch’s gentle “guidance” ? ... That’s the question we’ll keep pondering during our short journey.

Here’s a clue: on the drive from the airport to Thimphu, the capital, we spot an ambulance parked by the edge of a deep cliff, where a car has tumbled down (in Nepal, this would just be another average day on the road). Our guide, after showing concern like the rest of us, quickly regains his composure and assures us it’s probably just a practice drill for the Bhutanese emergency services. Happiness, it seems, comes in all forms and shapes, even at the bottom of ravines!

Our guide greets us right outside the manicured airport (a world away from Kathmandu’s chaos!). Like every civil servant, official, or schoolkid, he is dressed in “gho,” Bhutan’s national costume. The gho is a short, robe-like tunic made of colourful fabric, adorned with impeccable white cuffs and paired with tall black socks. Everyone wears it—even in the mountains, in the pouring rain, on a trek…as we’ll experience ourselves very soon!

The king himself, or rather, the entire royal family (his stunning wife, their two sons and a little daughter), welcomes us too. In fact, they’ll be joining us on every step of the journey, even in the most remote villages, thanks to their gigantic portraits displayed everywhere we go!

Oxford-educated, the “Fifth King,” as his subjects call him, is every bit the modern monarch. His father (still alive) shaped Bhutan into a constitutional monarchy (there’s a prime minister) though we never quite figured out whether the system is truly enlightened or just gently controlled. It’s all a matter of happy nuances. One thing becomes clear very quickly though: the Fifth King is always right, which does indeed make life simpler and spares everyone time-consuming lengthy debates. That’s only proper for a king, and essential for the happiness of his subjects, who seem to sensibly refrain from complaining about it.

We drive down a stunningly smooth road—pristine blacktop, a real treat, coming from Nepal—winding through a lush valley, and there it is: our first Dzong, rising in all its glory.

Magnificent and beautifully decorated fortresses, these Dzongs still house the offices of local administrations and spiritual authorities. In ancient times,they also served to defend the surrounding district. View them as a church, town hall, and military barracks all rolled into one.

All of them date back to the 17th century, when Bhutan was setting up its administration and had to repel frequent incursions from its Tibetan neighbours. While Bhutan shares a lot culturally with Tibet— very similar temples, language, and way of life to name but a few—it has always managed to preserve a distinct independence, not only from its northern neighbour (now China) but also from India. In the process, Bhutan had however to make significant concessions to India, accepting Indian oversight of its foreign policy along with complete economic dependence. But this was the price to pay to avoid the fate of little Sikkim, the other Himalayan state squeezed between Bhutan and Nepal, which was formally annexed by India in 1975. So, contrary to popular belief, happiness does come at a price…

Magnificent golden ornaments, Tibetan style red and white painted walls, frescoes of bodhisattvas and countless Buddhist deities everywhere (just like in Nepal) combined with a generous dash of Hindu mythology are the stunning features we will keep admiring in all temples throughout the rest of our trip. Decoding it all is no easy feat: the life of Buddha is convoluted enough, but add the Hindu pantheon to it, and you’ll lose your Sanskrit !

We spin the prayer wheels (always clockwise, to ward off bad luck) and circle the stupa—our first of many on this journey.

Thimphu, the capital, is a small town stretching along the river and its main street, nestled between wooded hills. Fitting an airport here is out of question, so the only possible location had to be in the next valley, which is just a bit wider. Still, one can easily notice that despite the constrained geography, the city has recently expanded along all its length; the many buildings under construction, all echoing traditional architectural styles, are clear signs of a recent booming rural exodus.

But let’s set aside the myth of Gross National Happiness for a moment. Just like Nepal, there’s also a massive international exodus in progress: out of a total population of about 800,000, more than 100,000 Bhutanese have left their country in recent years to Australia, the USA, Canada etc..., clearly signalling a lure for greener pastures elsewhere. GNH might not tell the whole story....

Nevertheless, for travellers like us, this tiny capital still comes across as a genuinely pleasant little town.

The next day, we’re invited to attend a grand festival at the city’s royal Dzong. For the occasion, we have to dress up in full traditional attire. Gho for him, Kira for her, blending in with full natural Bhutanese elegance, we now find ourselves swept up into the vibrant crowd of locals gathered for the celebration.

We’re not attending a tourist show, but a truly authentic festival honouring the local deities—of which there are thousands! Over three days, the festivities unfold with traditional dances and performances, all culminating on the final day with the royal family themselves closing the celebration.

The show is both on stage and in the crowd: vibrant colours burst everywhere, and the chanting monks, joined by the deep rumble of trumpets, weave a hypnotic rhythm throughout the ceremonies. Families gather for the day, dressed in their finest traditional attire, adding even more life and excitement to the celebration.

But the weather turns quickly, and it’s time to head to Punakha, a small town tucked East of Thimpu, on the other side of a 3,000-meter pass. The road winds through the mountains in tight switchbacks, cutting through a pristine forest where towering cedars alternate with tree ferns. The forest at times drapes itself in dripping lichens that lend the landscape an otherworldly, eery feel.

At last, we reach the pass—over 3,000 meters, the temperature has dropped noticeably. Sadly, the much-anticipated panorama of the Himalayas eludes us once again, with clouds clinging stubbornly to the ridgeline and a persistent drizzle. For a moment, we might be forgiven for thinking we have been teleported to the Belgian coast! But then, a string of small stupas and monks in deep red robes remind us we’re still very much in Bhutan. 108 stupas have been erected here—the magical number found at sacred sites throughout Tibetan culture, to honour soldiers who fell during skirmishes with neighbouring India. Their alignment emerges from the mist in the heart of the forest, only enhancing the mystical atmosphere of the place.

We continue our journey, winding down the far side of the pass through familiar landscapes, until we reach the broad, fertile valley of Punakha. Fertile in every sense of the word: in honour of yet another local deity whose small temple stands on a hilltop, nearly every house is adorned with paintings of phalluses, joyfully celebrating the valley’s reputation for abundance and fertility !

National happiness in all its forms !

The next day, we make our way back up the valley, aiming for another small temple perched atop a rocky outcrop. The journey promises a short climb following a river crossing over a suspension bridge.

National happiness seems to go hand in hand with a form of unshakable fatalism. On our way to the temple, we spot a curious sight: a car crossing a bridge, heading down a treacherous track, wearing only three tires !  Gross National Happiness certainly comes to the rescue in case karma doesn’t (not to mention basic common sense…).

We head back through the same valley, passing by another stunning Dzong—one of the largest and oldest in the country. Unfortunately, since these majestic fortresses were mostly built out of wood, nearly all of them have been rebuilt at least once throughout their history, having fallen victim to fires or earthquakes.

The next day, we retrace our steps along the same road, this time under a steady drizzle, heading back to Thimphu and then on to Paro. Paro will be our starting point for the following day’s adventure: the legendary Tiger’s Nest.

This famous Tiger’s Nest is a monastery clinging to the top of a cliff, accessible only after a steep, three-hour hike. The weather remains gloomy as we start up the trail, bustling with tourists from all over the world. Many are Indian travellers, who visit as neighbours, since they don’t need a visa. Some people give up partway and finish the first leg of the climb on mule-back, stopping at the halfway café which offers a breathtaking view of the monastery.

We press on bravely, following our guide and driver on the steep muddy trail under the rain. It’s almost comical: here we are, decked out in our modern hiking gear, and yet it’s them, the Bhutanese locals, as happy as ever, who remain cheerful, soaked, and tired as they are, in their national costume and city shoes. The Gross National Happiness doctrine knows no limit.

But the effort is worth it, even with the clouds swirling around us. The monastery, built in the 17th century, clings improbaly to the vertical cliff face—suspended between earth and sky. Right up until the last few hundred meters, one wonders how a trail could possibly reach such a place. Finally, following a narrow path hugging the rock face and crossing a waterfall, we arrive at the temple’s doorstep. It’s still inhabited by a handful of monks year-round. The temple is a surprisingly sprawling complex, made of several stories half-carved into the rock, and many richly ornated rooms—including a magical cave where Guru Rinpoche, the holy man who brought Buddhism to Bhutan, is said to have been reincarnated eight times.

He must have liked the local happiness spirit so much that he decided to extend his stay a little longer...

But it is time to make our way down swiftly. The weather has now turned to real heavy rain.

On our way back, we pause briefly at an archery range. Archery is Bhutan’s national sport, a tradition inherited from the distant Mongol descendants of Genghis Khan’s tribes that once swept across Asia. The target is tiny (just 30cm across), set over 100 meters away, and the bowstring is nearly impossible to pull. If archery is ever included into Bhutan’s Gross National Happiness index, I alone would certainly send the whole country into collective depression!

One last stroll through Paro, and a final visit to its commanding Dzong overlooking the country’s most fertile valley under a welcome ray of sunshine conclude our last day here.

It’s a surreal contrast: this medieval fortress, still very much in use, stands watch sternly over the valley, while modern airplanes bank right underneath into their final approach, landing on this treacherous runway tucked between two hills. Maybe this is precisely what this so well-kept Bhutanese happiness secret is all about: a dash of modernity woven into tradition, or vice-versa?

A beaming local happy cow winks at us jokingly and the tech-savvy monks return to their meditations as we make our way back toward the bustle of Kathmandu and wave goodbye to happy and serein Bhutan !

Happiness reigns here, just like the king who decreed it.