Bhutan: the secret kingdom has reopened

With its gentle Buddhist values, elegant national costume worn every day and devotion to its monarch, Bhutan has long maintained the mystique of a forbidden Himalayan kingdom, little influenced by the outside world and difficult to access. That access was cut altogether during the pandemic, when borders shut tight for two and a half years. The country finally reopened last week — to rhapsodic scenes at Paro airport, as four flights landed in succession. On the tarmac it was buzzing with a who’s who of Bhutanese politics and business as traditional dancers welcomed the first crop of tourists. In the crowd I met Tandi Wangchuk, the CEO of Drukair, the national airline, who was already hustling to increase flight capacity. “I want a new route to Dubai before the end of the year,” he said, “to allow our European friends to visit us more easily.”

The freshly hatched visitors fanned out from the airport, mostly eastwards to explore the three valleys of Paro, Thimphu or Punakha. I was heading west to the town of Haa, passing Paro’s pretty earthen houses, elaborately decorated with brightly painted window frames and cornices. The road swung left and right, up a winding series of hairpins, towards the border with India.

My destination, Haa, with its timber houses, fortified temples and prayer halls, lies at the western point of the Trans Bhutan Trail, a freshly launched 250-mile route that spans the width of the country, taking trekkers through forest glades, along the banks of gushing streams, over mountain passes and through national parks. For anyone with the time and resources, the full hike takes several weeks. I was cherry-picking a few sections — the more practical, even canny, approach to experiencing the trail. I chose the 40-mile Haa to Paro section, which winds through wilderness and offers fine views of the snow-capped Himalayas. I also did a day trek from the capital, Thimphu, up to the Dochula Pass — less of a success because at times the trail joined the road, passing factories and makeshift camps.

I might have been one of the first visitors to set foot on this newly named trail, but it has actually been in existence for millennia, part of a network of paths used by monks and messengers, transhumant herders, emissaries and traders. It fell into disuse as road construction began in the 1960s. The hope is that by restoring the footpaths, so that tourists could theoretically walk the entire length, this historic route will be resuscitated. Along the trail are white blazes painted on trees and more than 170 intermittent wooden posts, each with a QR code, offering those willing to pay for roaming the chance to learn more about nearby cultural sights and local myths and legends; some have infographics, others animations, to bring the stories to life — for an ancient trail it’s all very 21st-century. In spite of the navigational assistance, however, it is still mandatory to hire a guide booked through an approved tourism service. I chose the not-for-profit outfit Trans Bhutan Trail, which was behind the initiative of restoring the route and now operates itineraries here. It ploughs all its revenue back into the trail and surrounding communities.