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Bhutan Himalaya Expeditions | We are Bhutan Travel Specialists Sharing Bhutan's Happiness since 1999 | Detailed Itineraries, Expertly Curated & Hand-crafted Journeys, with insider tips, feature articles, cultural insights, and more. Bhutan In-depth We offer meaningful hand-crafted travel adventures and cultural journeys in the last Himalayan kingdom and beyond. See our Signature Journeys Culture Curators We are your friends and guides through the rich mountain culture of Bhutan, each of our journeys led by insightful, indigenous local guides with deep ties of kinship across the kingdom. Start a conversation | PLAN YOUR BHUTAN TRIP Browse our small group adventures for 2026 & beyond | TRAVEL STORIES Some fun reads to whet your appetite | RECCOMMENDED READS What we're talking about Featured In the New York Times Read the NY Times article of the journey Recalculating Happiness in a Himalayan Kingdom by Seth Mydans See our journey designed to share the secrets of Bhutan's National Happiness policy at Heart of Happiness: Journey to Discover Bhutan's Gross National Happiness. We had the pleasure of arranging travel, research and interviews in Bhutan for NY Times Correspondent Seth Mydans & Times videographer Mariko Takayasu. Following the trip, Mariko produced a video with Christopher Flavelle of the New York Times called Measuring Happiness that appeared on the Times' website. The Raven Crown Royal Emblem of Bhutanese Kings — read about the significance of the Bhutanese crown, taken from a 2009 lecture at the San Francisco Asian Art Museum by Bhutan Himalaya Expeditions Travel Coordinator, Karma Dorji PART-I : 13:59 PART-II : 9:00 See all posts See all stories In-depth cultural exploration of Bhutan Celebrate the annual return of Bhutan’s endangered Black-necked Cranes The pristine high trek to Treasure Lake See all journeys Bhutan’s Wild Wild East: A fascinating temple whose walls preserve a painful history of migration Hatching in the Himalaya: How the brown trout, a native of the British Isles, found a home in Bhutan’s lakes and rivers Traveling to learn about Bhutan’s Gross National Happiness policy The people and the landscape of Bhutan’s Mountain Goddess: a Photo Essay The King’s Speech Top 10 reasons why you should visit Bhutan in 2020 _________ Travel Logistics Organizer for CBS 60 Minutes 2024 special report on Bhutan “First, thank you for making my trip to Bhutan run smoothly. Second, for explaining your culture and customs to me and our team in a way that helped our 60 MINS story come alive. Third, for making the visit seriously fun!” ~ Lesley Stahl, Correspondent, CBS 60 Minutes, September 2024 Search Travel Bhutan Abundance: A summer journey DEPARTURES Blessings of Bhutan Bhutan's Jomolhari Trek Heart of Happiness Trek to Treasure Lake On the Wings of Prayer Punakha's Pageant of Warriors Bhutan in the Time of Rhododendrons SEE ALL JOURNEYS Stories Hidden Lands of Happiness SPOTLIGHT Wild Wild East: How an ancient matriarch led her people to Bhutan Our top 10 reasons why you should visit Bhutan in 2023 How the brown trout came to Bhutan's lakes and rivers The top 10 mask dances to see in Bhutan Pomp & circumstance at Bhutan's warriors festival A journey to learn about Gross National Happiness SEE ALL STORIES Us The Bhutan Himalaya Difference ABOUT US Who we are The Bhutan Himalaya Difference What our travelers say Our Team Meet our latest hires CONTACT US

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Bhutan and Beyond: Our travel extensions in the region Bhutan & Beyond: Our travel extensions in the region Laid-back Laos: Where echoes of a French-colonial past lingers in the unhurried east DURATION 09 days Read More Triple gems of Cambodia DURATION 09 days Read More If you’re looking to make the most of your time in the region and venture beyond Bhutan, these regional extensions combine well with a journey to Bhutan. We work with reliable partners vetted and certified by their national tourism boards. We don’t offer every permutation of every regional trip here. Just what we’ve found to be rich in terms of travel experiences in each of these countries. If you’d like us to explore and put together an idea of yours please don't hesitate to contact us with your wishlist or a short description and we’ll put together a private journey for you, backed up by the depth, local insights, and expertise of our local partners. “ _________ Travel Logistics Organizer for CBS 60 Minutes 2024 special report on Bhutan “First, thank you for making my trip to Bhutan run smoothly. Second, for explaining your culture and customs to me and our team in a way that helped our 60 MINS story come alive. Third, for making the visit seriously fun!” ~ Lesley Stahl, Correspondent, CBS 60 Minutes, September 2024 Search Travel Bhutan Abundance: a summer journey JOURNEYS Blessings of Bhutan Bhutan’s Jomolhari Trek Heart of Happiness Trek to Treasure Lake On the Wings of Prayer Punakha’s Pageant of Warriors Bhutan in the Time of Rhododendrons SEE ALL JOURNEYS Stories Hidden Lands of Happiness SPOTLIGHT Wild Wild East: How an ancient matriarch led her people to Bhutan Our top 10 reasons why you should visit Bhutan in 2023 How the brown trout came to Bhutan's lakes and rivers The top 10 mask dances to see in Bhutan Pomp & circumstance at Bhutan's Warriors festival A journey to learn about Gross National Happiness SEE ALL STORIES Us The Bhutan Himalaya Difference ABOUT US Who we are The Bhutan Himalaya Difference What Our Travelers Say Our Team Meet our latest hires CONTACT US

Bangkok has a way of announcing itself the moment you step off the plane — the heat presses in like a hand on the back of the neck, the air smells of lemongrass and exhaust, and somewhere a tuk-tuk horn is already insisting you hurry. You can see this glittering Asian metropolis that often seems to be bursting at the seams as a thing to be endured or you can see it as an overture — loud, fragrant, and generous — to the calm that awaits in the Land of the Thunder Dragon. A day or two here, spent well, does not compete with Bhutan's stillness. It deepens the arrival. Here are ten ways to spend a Bangkok layover as though it is the point and not the pause. Bangkok, the city that never sleeps, where neon challenges sunlight, and surprises wait around every corner. 1. Pedal into the Lungs of Bangkok Cross the Chao Phraya River, Bangkok's liquid artery, on a five-minute ferry from Khlong Toei and the din of the city simply stops. Bang Krachao — an artificial island formed by a horseshoe bend in the river, protected by royal decree from commercial development — unfurls into sixteen square kilometers of coconut groves, elevated boardwalks, and a nature park with a bird-watching tower rising above the canopy. Rent a bicycle for the equivalent of a couple of dollars near Bang Krachao pier and simply go where the narrow lanes lead: past stilted homes, small workshops, and roadside noodle stalls where no one is in a hurry. It is, improbably, still Bangkok — just the version the guidebooks forget to mention, ten minutes, and a world away, from the city's overcrowded BTS Skytrains. Bang Krachao, the "Green Lung" of Bangkok is a quiet oasis in the middle of the city's frenetic pace. How to arrange the experience: Bang Krachao bike ride Take Me Tour (Bangkok Tour company can arrange private guided bike rides or you can get to the pier yourself and self-arrange the bike rental at the bike rental shop there.) https://www.takemetour.com/trip/thonburi-historical-cultures-cycling-trip WhatsApp: +66830761452 Booking Direct: Trusted Contacts for Each Stop Wherever a direct establishment takes its own bookings, we favor that over a third-party ticketing platform. Details below are current as of this writing; please reconfirm before departure, as hours and contacts do shift. 2. Queue for Jay Fai In Old Bangkok's Phra Nakhon district, on a modest corner near Khao San Road, an octogenarian in ski goggles still cooks over roaring charcoal woks (see cover image above) with her own hands — goggles to guard against the spitting oil, not for show. Khun Jay Fai (the name means something like “Auntie Mole,” due to the large mole on her right cheek) became, in 2018, the first street-food vendor in the world to be awarded a Michelin star, for a crab omelette so laden with fresh lump crab that it arrives at the table the size and heft of a football, crisp at the edges and molten within. There is no reservation system and there is always a line; come hungry and patient, and consider it a small pilgrimage. Jay Fai is featured in Season 1, Episode 1: “Bangkok, Thailand” of Street Food: Asia (about 30 minutes). Left: Khun Jay Fai. Right: Jay Fai's signature dish is a giant crispy, savory, omelette oozing with fresh chunks of crab meat. How to arrange the experience: Jay Fai Raan Jay Fai, 327 Maha Chai Rd, Phra Nakhon No reservations taken. Walk in and queue; check @jayfaibangkok on Instagram beforehand to confirm she's open that day. 3. Sit Down at Le Du At the opposite end of the dining experience from the open flame, open kitchen, unrestrained street-food ardor of Raan Jay Fai is the elegant and refined Le Du. Early on in a meal at Le Du, the significance of the restaurant's name dawns on you. Du is the Thai word for season, and the kitchen here does not so much follow that idea as insist on it: the menu changes with what the country's farmers, fishermen, and rice paddies are actually producing, which means the dish that arrives on a Tuesday in April may not exist by June. This is, on its face, a fine-dining conceit. In the hands of Chef Thitid "Ton" Tassanakajohn, it's more like a thesis. Mr. Tassanakajohn trained at the Culinary Institute of America and cooked his way through the kitchens of Eleven Madison Park and Jean-Georges before returning to Bangkok in 2013 to open a forty-seat room on a quiet lane off Silom Road. The room has since been rebuilt around a ceiling embedded with some twenty thousand glass test tubes — a detail that could easily tip into gimmick, and does not, mostly because nobody at the table is looking up for long. The food does not permit distraction. The signature khao khluk kapi arrives as a butterflied river prawn fresh from the Tapi, the longest river in sourthern Thailand, grilled hard at the edges and sweet within, set beside a rice tossed with shrimp paste and two varietals grown in the north; it reads, on the plate, like a study of a single Thai home-cooked dish taken apart and rebuilt with the patience of a research fellow. The khao chae, a royal dish traditionally served over shaved ice in the hot season, turns up here reworked with a restraint that lets the original idea — rice steeped in flowers, condiments arranged like a puzzle around it — stay legible even as the technique underneath it has clearly been rethought from scratch. What's easy to miss, amid the citations — a Michelin star since 2019, the No. 1 ranking on Asia's 50 Best in 2023, a continued berth on the World's 50 Best list — is how unfussy the room actually feels to sit in. Service explains without lecturing. Nothing arrives faster than the story behind it warrants. It is possible to read Le Du as a monument to Thai culinary nationalism, correcting a Western tendency to flatten Thai food into pad thai and green curry; it is also, more simply, one of the best-cooked tasting menus in Southeast Asia, seasonal in the way that phrase is supposed to mean before it becomes marketing copy. Reservations do not come easily — dinner seats are known to vanish before lunch service does — which is, in its own way, the highest compliment a dining room in this city can currently claim. The popular local seabass with seasonal water chestnuts, pomegranate and spicy cilantro at Bangkok's Le Du. How to arrange the experience: Le Du Le Du, direct ledubkk.com · +66 92 919 9969. Book as far ahead as possible — dinner seatings are known to fill before lunch does. 4. Bike like a Local, with Co van Kessel Thirty years ago a Dutchman named Co van Kessel began pedaling curious visitors through Bangkok's back alleys, and the tours he started have scarcely changed in spirit since. The classic route threads Chinatown's narrow sois and temple courtyards before the bicycles are loaded, riders and all, onto a longtail boat that crosses into Thonburi's old canal network — the “Venice of the East,” where stilted wooden houses still lean over the water much as they did a century ago. Longer itineraries continue on to the green plantations across the river, with lunch served, by design, at a local family's home rather than a restaurant built for tourists. It is Bangkok stripped of its highway noise, seen the way a neighbor would show a friend around. Video: Biking with Co Van Kessel's signature taxicab yellow bikes past classic Bangkok street scenes. How to arrange the experience: Co van Kessel Bangkok Tours covankessel.com — book directly online, or call ahead to confirm the tour and meeting office. 5. Food Tour After Dark When the sun drops, Chinatown's Yaowarat Road switches on — neon signs, sizzling woks, and more than two hundred stalls that have fed this two-hundred-year-old trading district for generations. A guided night walk here is less a meal than a procession: char siu pork glossy off the spit, oyster omelettes crackling on flat-top griddles, braised goose noodles, herbal teas poured from dented kettles, and, always, a plate of mango sticky rice to close things out. Wander with a local guide who knows which unmarked doorway hides the best bowl on the block, and Chinatown reveals itself less as a sight to photograph than a neighborhood mid-meal, generously willing to let you join in. Yaowarat's bustling night markets in Bangkok, often illuminated by vibrant red lanterns, offer a feast for the senses on a food tour. How to arrange the experience: Night food tour Chili Paste Tours (guide Chin Chongtong) chilipastetour.com — small, private, guide-led tours; contact directly to arrange a date. 6. Watch the Day's Fading Lights Caress Wat Arun King Taksin named it Wat Chaeng — the Temple of Dawn — after arriving at its riverbank shrine at daybreak in 1767, fleeing a fallen Ayutthaya. Its towering central prang, later raised through the reigns of two kings and clad entirely in fragments of Chinese porcelain, was built to catch the morning sun. But locals know its truest hour is the opposite one: cross to the east bank near Tha Tien pier as evening settles, take a seat at a riverside rooftop, or a nearby park bench and watch the spire go from gold to rose to silhouette against a darkening sky, the Chao Phraya carrying long-tail boats and the last commuter ferries beneath it. It is one of Bangkok's oldest sacred sites, and one of its most quietly moving — a bittersweet feeling to contemplate life, the passing moments flowing like the river, as the fading hues of the day softly caresses, and finally takes leave of Bangkok's most iconic monument. Wat Arun casts a golden glow over the Chao Phraya River—a serene and iconic end to the day in Bangkok. How to arrange the experience: Wat Arun sunset No vendor needed Self-guided. Open daily, roughly 8:30am–5:30pm; cross via the Tha Tien Pier ferry. 7. Get Lost Among a Million Blooms Pak Khlong Talat began, in the reign of King Rama I, as a floating market where boats traded fish and produce along the canal mouth for which it is named. Today it runs on flowers, around the clock, ranked among the largest fresh-flower markets on earth: mountains of marigolds destined for temple offerings, roses sold thirty to a bundle, jasmine garlands strung by hand with a speed that borders on sleight of hand. The market's true pulse comes alive between three and four in the morning, when trucks arrive from Chiang Mai and beyond and wholesalers descend on the narrow aisles — though any hour rewards exploration, the air thick with the mingled scent of orchid and river humidity, color piled on color in a city that rarely sits still long enough to smell like this. A shopkeeper waits for customers among her vibrant floral arrangements at the bustling Bangkok Flower Market. Pak Khlong Talat flower market No vendor needed. Find it on Google Map Self-guided. Open 24 hours, free entry. 8. The Birthplace of Thai Massage Long before Bangkok existed as a capital, a monastery stood on this ground; King Rama III later had more than a thousand stone inscriptions and carved yogi statues set into its walls, an open-air textbook meant to preserve a healing art then at risk of being lost. That art was traditional Thai massage, and Wat Pho remains its spiritual home — a discipline built on acupressure, deep compression, and assisted stretching rooted in the same Buddhist philosophy that shapes traditional Bhutanese medicine. Pay respects first to the resplendent 46-meter Reclining Buddha, gilded and serene, its soles inlaid with mother-of-pearl; then walk to the massage pavilions at the rear of the grounds, where practitioners trained in a tradition older than the temple itself will press two millennia of accumulated wisdom directly onto tired shoulders. Be warned, though. This is no gentle wellness spa, full of windchimes and piped-in nature sounds. The massage is honest, full-contact human, and can be vigorous to the point of being rough, but well worth the experience, and the story you can tell afterwards! The original practitioners of Thailand's ancient healing arts, monks in vibrant robes pray inside the ornate interiors of Wat Pho. How to arrange the experience: Wat Pho massage Wat Pho Thai Traditional Massage School watpomassage.com — book ahead for a guaranteed slot, or walk in at the temple's massage pavilions. 9. Dine Where the Warehouses Once Traded Silk The waterfront warehouses at Asiatique once belonged to the East Asiatic Company, a Danish trading house that moved freight up and down the Chao Phraya during the reign of King Rama V. More than a century on, those same brick-and-timber buildings have been reborn as a riverside promenade of boutiques, food stalls, and restaurants strung with lantern light — an unlikely but effective setting for romance. Reserve a table on the open-air waterfront terrace as the evening ferries glide past, or, for something more theatrical, dine on the deck of the Sirimahannop, a full-scale replica of a nineteenth-century three-masted trading ship permanently anchored at the pier. Either way, the Chao Phraya does most of the work: dark water, passing lights, and the particular hush that settles over a city river after dark. The Asiatique, Bangkok's (relatively) new riverfront market. How to arrange the experience: Asiatique riverside dinner (Sirimahannop) Sirimahannop, direct sirimahannop.com · +66 2 059 5999 · 10. The Madness of Chatuchak Born in the 1940s as a modest flea market and relocated more than once before settling into its current 35-acre sprawl, Chatuchak has grown into the largest weekend market on the planet: roughly fifteen thousand stalls, arranged into twenty-seven loosely organized sections, drawing something like two hundred thousand people through its alleys each Saturday and Sunday. Vintage denim gives way to handwoven textiles, which give way to ceramics, which give way to a courtyard of stray cats and cold coconuts. There is no efficient way to see it and no real need to try — a paper map from the information booth is a suggestion more than a plan. Go with the goal of getting completely turned around, and let whatever finds you be the day's souvenir. Warning: this is one of Asia's craziest and most crowded markets. It's always in your face. Stay away if you're in the mood for peace and quiet. How to arrange the experience: Chatuchak Weekend Market No vendor needed. Find it on Google Maps. Self-guided. Open Saturday–Sunday, roughly 9am–6pm. Any taxi driver in Bangkok can take you there. Or ride the BTS skytain to the end of the line toward Chatuchak. Visitors walk beneath vibrant, colorful streamers at Bangkok's bustling Chatuchak Market.

As we open our 2020 fall expedition to the base of Bhutan’s Mount Jomolhari (slated for October), our Travel Programs Coordinator, Karma Dorji, showcases in words and pictures why, despite the growing impact of tourism and the onslaught of modernity, a trek to the basecamp of the kingdom’s second highest peak remains one of the world’s great hiking experiences. ______ Photos & text by Karma Singye Dorji 1. Kado, 26, Mountain Man. Over the nearly two decades that I have been guiding guests of various nationalities on the trails crisscrossing the lap of Mount Jomolhari (24,038ft), I have fallen in love as much with the mountain as with her people. Having done it these many years, a trip back to the mountain feels more like a pilgrimage to me than a simple trekking expedition. This, even though, in my opinion, the route has become significantly degraded over the years by tourist traffic and a near-tragic clear-cutting of trees along the first section of the route in a mismanaged effort to bring electricity to the region. Many of the people I have guided over the years leave the mountain changed in some deep and profound ways by the power of the landscape, and the kindness, grace and strength of the people. I have personally been inspired by the incredible strength and tenacity of Mount Jomolhari’s children. The mountain has a way of stripping away the inessentials, exposing weaknesses, and demanding strength and endurance. I remember a time, in the early years, when we followed a young boy from Jangothang, a settlement near the mountain’s base who, at times half disappearing in the snow, trudged quietly and uncomplainingly with us, for hours going out of his way to guide us through an unexpected storm even though he got drenched in the subzero temperatures in the process. That boy, whose name I have sadly forgotten, is who I think of when I walk among people like 26-year old Kado who, similarly, was born and raised in the benevolent shadow of the mountain they call their protector. I met him at basecamp, where he spoke to me of his modest dreams: a new roof for his mother’s house, taking care of his elders and providing them a modicum of ease when they retire to the traditional Buddhist life of prayer and meditation. Talking to this quiet young man, listening to his rock-like resolve, I was reminded of one of the most important things we can do in life: be an anchor of strength for those we love. 2. Unveiling the Goddess When you get close to the mountain, the massive exposed rock face of Jomolhari’s base—streaked by waterfalls and fingers of perennial snow—gives no indication of the sheer magnitude of the peak. Black cliffs disappear under a sea of towering mist that reaches up to the sky, and it is only when the goddess “smiles” through a break in the weather that we see the immensity of her snowy crown. The semi-nomadic people who have lived here for centuries under her gaze believe that Ama Jomo, their Mother Goddess, watches over them and protects their world. Appraising the mountain from the Tibetan side (Bhutan was closed to outsiders then), the early 20th century English explorer F. Spencer Chapman wrote in 1939: “Chomolhari [aka Jomolhari] gives a greater impression of sheer height and inaccessibility than any other mountain I know. It drops in a series of almost vertical rock precipices to the foothills beneath. It is thought by many to be the most beautiful mountain in the whole length of the Himalaya.” 3. Beauty & Respect The powerful landscape of the valleys around Jomolhari always touches me in the deepest places of my heart. As I leave first camp at Thangthangkha, from where I see the top of Jomolhari's familiar snow cone summit playing peek-a-boo from behind the forbidding range, I can feel the mental chatter of my days quieting down, bringing me to the threshold of an awed silence. No room here for ego, for superficial words or for putting up defensive shields; nor too for the closing of emotional doors. The immensity of the landscape makes tiny specks of us all, and the vagaries of mountain weather reminds us to always tread carefully, respectfully, or else be reminded of our insignificance. As native-born Himalayan guides, it is our great duty and privilege to keep others safe. We take cues from the early mountain weather patterns as well as from the valuable indigenous knowledge that the region's semi-nomadic herders share so generously with us. We listen and we learn from local lore, gratefully accepting the advice of native elders who live in the region; we learn from the experiences of other guides, park officials, local authorities, native biologists and conservationists, always putting the safety of our travelers first. It is a tightrope walk, this partaking in the blessings of the mountain goddess and her people without adversely affecting the culture and the environment in this incredibly beautiful corner of our world. 4. Rich or Poor? Once we were camped near a yak-herder's settlement, a day’s walk from Jomolhari, at an altitude of some 12,300 feet. There we met the matriarch Keza Om (62, right), head of a family numbering three daughters, one of whom, Zom (30), is pictured here. A niece, two grandchildren, and two sons-in-law, who all live with her, round out the brood. From her seasonal stone-enclosure “roofed” by nothing more than a sheet of fraying tarpaulin, she survives on the milk and cheese produced by her yaks. Keza Om weathers snowstorms, freezing rains, and high winds with unwavering equanimity. “We do the best we can and leave the rest to fate,” she says. There’s not much here and everything is essential: the little plastic containers of cooking oil that have been cut away at the neck to be re-purposed as water buckets, the soot-blackened aluminum pots and pans for cooking meals and boiling milk, the churns for making butter and cheese, the prayer beads around her neck for remembering her daily Buddhist prayers; even the incongruously large tractor tire carried up the mountain by a son-in-law now reincarnated in the meadow outside her yurt as a feeding trough for the herd. Sitting amid such meager, cobbled possessions Keza Om's life seems hard and poverty-stricken. But the depth of her smile and the warmth of her welcome tells me otherwise. 5. Vital Elemental Things Crossing the high pass of Nyile La, in excess of 16,000-feet, you come upon this view. The first glimpse of the Lingshi Dzong, seen in the distance, always makes me simultaneously think of two very different things. A: that we are, in the overall scheme of things, truly insignificant. And b: that something about the snow-clouds drifting over the muscled slopes and ridges of the high mountains, the occasional roar of a waterfall in the distance, the moan of a calving glacier somewhere near the foot of a peak, the audible shrugging of great banks of snow from a massif (which always makes me think of a jet airplane passing overhead), and the way that we can almost touch the clouds in these rarefied heights of the world, tells me that we are each part of a much greater whole; that all of us are connected to the grand, unfathomable movements of nature even though we may not comprehend it all. Holding such thoughts in my mind, the superfluous melts away, replaced by vital elemental things: Gratitude. Breath. Beauty. And, of course, Weather, with a capital W! 6. Blue Sheep At the source of rivers, near the lairs of snow leopards, we often see stampeding herds of rare Himalayan Blue Sheep (Pseudois nayaur). These elegant ungulates were perhaps made most famous by the detailed studies of the celebrated biologist George B. Schaller, who wrote “Since blue sheep are the snow leopard’s principal prey…the two species are ecologically bound to each other.” In Bhutan, local conservationist friends of the snow leopards take heart from such sightings of healthy herds of blue sheep. Depending on size, maturity and season, their coats (“pelage” is the scientific term) range in color from brown to slate blue. The healthy populations of blue sheep, combined with some recent photographs of snow leopards captured using trip-wire cameras, and the increasing accounts of sightings by local yak herders in the Jomolhari region, provide encouraging circumstantial evidence. There are indications that the extremely rare and endangered cat, sometimes called the “ghost of the mountains” because of their elusive nature, continues to survive, and perhaps even thrive, in Bhutan where strong environmental policies protect their precious habitats. Traveling through this incredible landscape I am always reminded of the words of Peter Mathiessen, author of The Snow Leopard: “All is moving, full of power, full of light.” See a video clip of running blue sheep. 7. Precious Jewel of the Mountains No narrative of Jomolhari can be complete without mentioning yaks. In the high, arid region where agriculture is near-impossible, the area’s semi-nomadic herders depend on their yaks for survival. “Our yaks give us life,” Apa Penjor, a Jomolhari elder (now deceased), told me over 20 years ago when I first met him to write about a livestock disease depleting the local yak population. “They are like precious jewels for our people.” Cheese, milk and butter from the yaks are bartered in the lower valleys for grains, fresh produce, spices and other provisions in short supply at high elevations. Yak hair is spun into blankets, ropes and yurts; yak dung provides the fuel for fires. When we explore the spectacular slopes and valleys around Jomolhari we often meet local herders on their ancient grazing routes—men, women, children and elders—leading, or sometimes following, the animals they call Norbu Rinpoche, which, in their words, means “the gift that keeps on giving.” 8. The Grim March of Progress When I first hiked through the region nearly 25 years ago, it was still possible to feel like one had entered an untouched realm protected from the outside world by an invisible force-field, one of those hidden magical lands, the sacred bae-yul, that populate our Himalayan myths. A modern chair, which I saw used by the Drungpa or regional administrator, carried up the mountains by a porter, was the latest, most incongruous item of modernity I encountered back then. I remember being shocked by the sight, one morning, of the administrator sitting on that chair outside his tent, in front of the peak, reading his newspaper! Today, that office chair seems so innocent by comparison. What new things may yet soon become commonplace in the region? While it's easy for us to bemoan the visual pollution of electrical poles and lines cropping up amid such pristine surroundings, who are we deny or even judge the aspirations of Jomolhari’s people for what they deem to be better lives? For one thing, electricity means children can read after dark and do better in school. And yet if electricity arrives, can television—with the good and the bad of programming; advertising; and the generally soul-numbing selling and buying of consumer goods, with its concomitant environmental costs—be far behind? Ultimately, there’s no telling what indiscernible number of modern impulses that electricity will bring to the heart of Jomolhari. These men carrying the steel poles into the mountains were paid by local business contractors tasked by the government to build infrastructure for electricity in the region. The same businesses also cut down swathes of forest along the initial route to Jomolhari in the course of doing that, a sad and surprising oversight in a place where commercial logging is actually banned. Wearing cheap plastic boots and flip-flops, these men were earning Nu. 2,000 a day (less than 30 US dollars) doing the back-breaking work. "I am saving the money so I can help my parents in my village," one young man told me. More recently, helicopter services took to air-dropping these heavy metal poles into the remote interiors of Jomolhari, speeding up the process of change, bringing further intrusions to a place where the thud-thudding of rotor blades were previously unknown. 9. An Entreaty from the Mountains “When I was young our precious goddess [Jomolhari] was covered head to foot in robes of pure-white snow. Not so anymore,” says our longtime friend and caravan leader Ap Dawa, standing in front of the peak. “But there are many powerful countries in the world with resources far beyond our imagining,” he says. “I would like to plead with them to work together to find a way to reverse the negative impacts [of global warming] and help us protect our precious way of life.” While now in his 70s, Ap Dawa often puts men half his age to shame. Nimble and surefooted, the Jangothang elder likes to lead us on merry chases up and down the high slopes that provide some of the best views around basecamp. As a respected elder he also performs an ancient ritual that has now become a regular part of our treks. From a simple stone altar on the spreading yak meadow in front of Bhutan’s second highest peak (24,038ft), Ap Dawa conducts the time-honored rites worshiping the deity his people call “the Mother Goddess Mountain of the World.” As part of his invocations to the goddess, he seeks her blessings for the protection of all sentient beings in the world from suffering, and for peace and balance in the natural world. We can only hope that such heartfelt prayers will soon be heard in greater numbers all around the world, forcing our leaders to work toward some lasting solutions to save the future of the planet. 10. Protecting the Magic Despite encroaching modernity, in spite of the damage along the main trail to Jomolhari, the region still remains one of the most magical places in the world. We routinely enjoy such incredible experiences as starry nights in view of the sacred peak when it feels like you're looking up at the entire stretch of infinity. The challenges of preserving the last great untouched places in the world is a collective global responsibility and, in this, Bhutan punches far above its weight. As early as the 1980s, and perhaps even earlier, the kingdom has put its best foot forward with a series of far-reaching environmental policies backed by royal decrees and an overwhelming political will. We take heart from the fact that—as a country that sets aside more than 42 percent of its land mass in a system of protected areas—the Bhutanese government has introduced strong measures to reduce the impacts of tourism: campsites are clearly marked and delineated to reduce environmental damage on surrounding areas, everything brought in must be packed out, and special fees help pay for environmental cleanups. Agencies such as the excellent and wide-ranging non-profit Bhutan Foundation, with offices in Bhutan and the US, help protect endangered Snow Leopards while promoting sustainable livelihoods for local communities across Bhutan (https://bhutanfound.org/projects/snow-leopard-conservation-program/). Meanwhile, forestry and land use regulations and strict environmental protection laws help keep Bhutan a carbon-negative country. Places like Jomolhari have a great beauty and natural diversity that must be preserved as part of our sacred global heritage, an endeavor in which we all have a role to play—the visitors who are fortunate enough to walk these hallowed valleys beneath the gaze of the mountain goddess, the local governments and non-profits that seek to provide services and improved livelihoods while protecting biodiversity and precious natural resources and, ultimately, those of us who seek to share this amazing, glorious, life-changing landscape with the wider world. ___ To donate to a project benefiting environmental conservation and cultural preservation in the Jomolhari region, go to Bhutan Foundation's website: https://bhutanfound.org/ To learn more about our upcoming 2020 Trek to Mount Jomolhari, go to: https://www.bhutanhimalaya.com/bhutan-jomolhari-trek

Losar is a time for fun, family, and feasting in Bhutan. Unlike the West, where people may stay up all night to party, the start of the lunar year in Bhutan is a mostly daytime affair. People wake early in the morning to bathe and put on fresh new clothes they’ve put away during the past year in carefully locked boxes, trunks, and closets for just such a special occasion. The first meal of the day is usually thuep, thick rice congee with spicy mala seasoning flavored by bone marrow, soft cubes of cottage cheese, and tender, well-cooked chunks of meat, usually pork or beef. It’s a dense umami concoction that’s at once savory, tingly, and filling, a great way to start this celebratory day. In some families, the day also begins with thrue, a purifying bath or shower to rinse off the negative karma of the previous year, followed by thuen or moenlam, a short prayer or dedication to welcome a prosperous new year. Daytime festivities include da-tsey or archery, the national sport, played mostly by men, and khuru or throwing darts that are enjoyed by monks (there being no injunctions against games of marksmanship in the Buddhist clergy) as well as by lay people. If, in other parts of the world, New Year parties are a time to go out, in Bhutan, the holiday is more akin to an American Thanksgiving. It’s a time when families gather and stay home to eat delicious and endless quantities of food throughout the day. Lunch usually arrives with a great deal of fanfare, featuring the season's best cereals, depending on the elevation—rice, wheat, roasted barley, dough, or buckwheat. Yak, beef, pork or chicken, and sometimes fish are served in prosperous homes. In the more religiously observant homes, a gathering of monks will usually perform ceremonies for barchey lamdoey, “which may loosely be translated as “prayers for the purification of diseases, obstacles, and misfortunes.” In such homes, the esteemed monks are invited to take frequent breaks during the day to join the family in the feasting. Renewed by such delicious food and drink, the monks will often be seen to resume their chanting, the blowing of ceremonial horns and reed pipes, and the beating of their drums and cymbals with renewed vigor and energy. Afternoon tea, with Indian-style sweet milk tea as well as salty Himalayan butter tea or suja—which is more like a broth—arrives with khabzoey, or crispy, mildly sweet deep-fried dough cakes. Dinner is usually preceded by ara, home-brewed traditional rice wine, or singchang, fermented barley beer. By this time everyone will have grown considerably rosier in the cheeks and louder and much more convivial in their mannerisms, and a good old game of playing cards, or sho (a Himalayan game similar to mahjong played with dice) may well ensue. Even the monks, if they're still around and well-known to the family, may join the general rounds of speculation over the most strategic placements of the (sho) pieces in the game! More food is served at dinner—red rice, bright red chilies, and a variety of spicy stews including the national chili-cheese dish ema datsi, and long strips of shakam or dried beef, yak or pork—until everyone is stuffed. Copious amounts of drinking follows. The mostly home-brewed alcohol, imbibed by one and all finally brings the festivities to a close with the flushed red-cheeked faces of everyone giving evidence to their glistening hopes for a happy and healthy year! In the Lunar Calendar of the Himalayas, which largely corresponds with the Chinese one with some differences, 2024 is the Year of the Wood Dragon. According to traditional astrology, the foundational characteristics of the Wood Dragon Year are prosperity, daring, energy, and opportunity. Some people believe that Losar celebrations predated Buddhism in the Himalayas. The traditional practice of burning incense and juniper as a New Year's offering to the spirits and protective deities is believed to be an artifact of the animistic Bon practices that existed before the arrival of Buddhism. In Tibet, the celebrations are sometimes called Boed Gyalpoi Losar, which means “the Tibetan New Year of the King.” This is a reference to the belief that Losar was first celebrated following the coronation of Tibet's first king. In another story, Losar was first celebrated after a woman named Boed Ma (Tibetan Mother) invented the Himalayan lunar calendar. In some parts of the Himalayas, it was also believed to have been celebrated as an autumn festival at the time of "the flowering of the apricot trees." May the the dynamic dragon bring a happy and prosperous 2024 to everyone! As we say in the Himalayas at the start of each promising new year, Tashi Delek! May good fortune shine on all your endeavors! Like this article? Get similar features & travel information sent straight to your inbox with the Bhutan Himalaya Newsletter