25 and 26th September 2016 Trekking Bhutan
Photos of Our Final Days Druk Path Trek
All night we were snug against the rain streaming down over the outside of the tent, feeling sorry for our little ponies outside. Morning came and we realised there is no cancellation, no warm and rain-dry mode of transport out- we are walking for the day. Get up and get out in it.
After a warming breakfast and a wet packing up we prepare to depart. Already we have been told this is a bigger day of walking. Within minutes of being out I dream of my warm waterproof gloves and woollen beanie back in Paro! I have both my jackets on and thinking it is a stroke of genius I pull the sleeves of the underjacket over my hands for warmth. Realising much later a forgotten law that water loves to funnel – water runs up the inner sleeve and soaks my arms!!!
We cross the mushy meadow and head up along a shale-like water sodden path. As we move up we see the rain become snow. Shortly passed by a tour group complete with young man in shorts who in strong Irish brogue says to his mate as he passes us “This is foocking ridiculous”!! While not in shorts I was close to this thought – soon shaken as the snow thickened and the beauty took me out of discomfort. As we headed into sharp hills covered in layers of fallen black rock the colours and starkness distracted me as I walked.
Water was the order of the day – running through the path, raining down upon us, running up arms, down faces, over boots. Chanting helped, singing helped, looking only at what was just in front helped. Stopping to view the amazing forests, mountains, small flowers, vistas made it worthwhile.
I remember the sinking feeling as we reached the first pass of the day and I then expected a downward journey to the finish line. No. At the first pass our gaze was directed to the second and final pass a dot in the distance – up high.
While preferring to just keep going -one foot after another – our guides encouraged us to stop under an overhang of rock for a warming cup of tea and snack. Yes a good idea.
Finally we reached the second pass and strung our prayer flags along with the others at the pass. To our amazement as we stood, a group of young people passed with a range of footwear including sneakers, sandals and dress shoes.
Once over the pass it was downhill to the camp for the night beside the Phajoding monastery. We debated frequently which was the easier to walk – up or down. Apart from the cardio effort of the uphill it was often easier than slipping, sliding and gripping on during downhill stretches.
Once at camp we found our tent standing proudly all by itself and the crew in a shed with a heater going, and stove preparing lunch in the corner. We stripped off our wet gear and steamed ourselves around the small heater.
It was briefly thought we might be able to get a room for the night, disappointedly this turned out to be not possible. The disappointment did not last long when we discovered we all had to use the same toilet block which was closer to our tent than the rooms. It was also to be the last night in our cosy little carpeted home. We did insist that “room service” was not to happen as we were too far from the crew. This was of course ignored by our amazing support team.
The morning brought a beautiful surprise – the rain and murky cloud had cleared and in front of us a deep valley with Thimpu below covered by a thin layer of mist and beyond the valley were mountains topped with snow.
Before setting off on our last leg to Thimpu firstly visiting the Phajoding Monastery, the oldest in Bhutan. Also a school where signs encouraged speaking English with the young monks. In one classroom a puppy and a new kitten played around the students working from the scripts as they knelt on the floor.
Before setting out the thought of a walk downhill had appeal. Oh dear – that quickly ended – by the end of the day we were tired, muddy, sore and just a bit over it all. The path was again muddy, difficult and deeply (and I mean up to your knees deep) rutted. Ending uncomfortably on my butt several times.
At one particular spot as we picked our way through the mud, slipping, sliding, gripping our poles a young monk skipped down the path towards us, heading to Thimpu. He stopped to chat as he made his way down to do the shopping and then take it back to the monastery. Once he had had a bit of English practice off he ran down the hill as we plodded slowly behind feeling grateful we did not have to run back up to the monastery again.
Finally a celebratory Pizza and a feeling of great achievement as we reunited with Dorji and prepared to say Goodbye to both Tshering our Guiding Goddess and Dorji our Driver Extraordinaire. What a great trip we had had through World Tour Plan
