There's not a beach to be found in this landlocked Himalayan kingdom… but happiness is a national treasure.
“The best view comes after the hardest climb,” said our guide, Pencho. He knew what lay ahead of us here in Bhutan—both the uphill challenges and the extraordinary rewards that would follow. Bhutan marks the 60th country that Angela and I have explored, but it now ranks #1 on our “must-see” list of extraordinary travel destinations.
With just 700,000 citizens, Bhutan is a tiny nation, hidden in the Himalayas between two global behemoths, China and India.
There's only one airstrip here, and it's often called “the world's most dangerous airport,” despite excellent safety records. The zig-zaggy approach through the Himalayan peaks is tricky. The single runway is short and subject to clingy clouds and unpredictable Himalayan crosswinds. All flights are restricted to daylight hours, and pilots must rely on their vision and manual flying skills over automated systems. There are only eight pilots in the world certified to land here.
Bhutan is steeped in mythology, with most of its early history being unrecorded—the stuff of rumors and legends. This place didn't even have a name until the 17th century, when outsiders began labeling it with such romantic monikers as “Land of the Thunder Dragon,” “The Southern Land of Darkness,” and more recently, “The Last Shangri-La.”
Bhutan is home to Gangkhar Puensum, the world's highest unclimbed mountain at 24,770 feet. Bhutan is also the first and only carbon negative country on the planet.
Life is simple here, but don't mistake simplicity for poverty. Healthcare is free. Education is free. “The rich here are not too rich, and the poor are not too poor,” said Pencho. Everyone can provide for themselves, even though the average annual salary is just ,000 USD per year.
In this kingdom, wealth is measured not in gold but in happiness.
In fact, the Bhutan government maintains a Ministry of Happiness, which keeps an ever-mindful eye on the nation's GNH—or Gross National Happiness index. Gross National Happiness is not some whimsical notion, but a formal state policy—an ethos woven into the fabric of Bhutanese life.
What does that really mean, though? It means that decisions aren't made based purely on economic or political factors. The happiness of citizens is the primary metric. Could Bhutan dam up another river and make lots more money selling electricity to its power-hungry neighbors? It sure could. But displacing residents of that hypothetical valley would no doubt cause considerable stress. More often than not, the Bhutanese prioritize long-term happiness over quick and easy economic gain.
Don't get me wrong: Bhutan is not a utopia. Challenges abound, from economic to environmental, with rapidly melting glaciers sometimes rampaging right through their homes. During the pandemic, many young people reluctantly left their beloved country in search of professional opportunities. And so, the kingdom is cautiously embracing modernity, trying to ensure that each technological advance does not eclipse their cultural heritage. It's a delicate dance, with one foot in the past and the other stepping toward the future, all while trying to maintain equilibrium.
The Bhutanese face such challenges with an optimism rooted in the belief that for every problem, there is a solution that does not compromise their happiness. They seem to have mastered the art of balance and of living harmoniously with nature, with each other, and with modern times and temptations. It's evident in the way cities like Thimphu, devoid of any traffic lights, pulse to an orderly rhythm, a choreography of mutual respect.
Most countries seem to be the result of whatever happened to them. They're defined by their historic circumstances: invasions, weather, politics, natural disasters, war. They didn't carefully map their cultural evolution—it's just how life worked out.
But in Bhutan, life seems so incredibly intentional. Bhutan's people are intent on protecting and preserving their sacred way of life. Their lives aren't dictated by poverty—they're driven by purpose. Life here isn't about feeding constant cravings. It's about finding contentment in whatever you've been blessed with. It's a happiness that demands mindfulness and gratitude, and an acknowledgment that we are but transient guests on this great rock.
As Angela and I reluctantly boarded our departing plane, we noticed a red carpet rolled out on the tarmac. His Majesty the King of Bhutan was on our flight back to Bangkok. He sat quietly, about ten rows in front of us. As Angela said, “You don't become the world's first carbon negative country by flying private.”
If only all world leaders led by such an example, our world would be an infinitely happier place.
In the wake of a global pandemic, the invasive proliferation of social media, and staring rapidly melting glaciers in the face, this tiny kingdom no doubt has a long and treacherous climb ahead of it. But if they can somehow survive that climb, the view will no doubt be worth it.
Bhutan Highlights
Haa Valley
Few outsiders come here. In fact, the valley was completely closed off to all foreign tourists until 2002. Today, it provides visitors a glimpse into a pristine and largely untouched part of Bhutan, both its natural habitats as well as this country's mindful way of life. We came to Haa Valley to witness an annual celebration known as Thrue-Bab, which roughly translates to “Blessed Rainy Day,” a festival marking the end of the monsoon season. It's believed that any rain that falls on this sacred day has been sanctified by the Divine. Taking a bath in these natural waters—in rivers, streams, or even rainwater—will cleanse one's sins and impurities.
Following these penitential baths, locals flock to the monastery sporting their finest and most colorful attire. The masked dances that define the festival have their roots in the 8th century, when these dances were used to subdue evil spirits and demons bent on obstructing the spread of Buddhism. The costumes worn by the dancers are vibrant and elaborate, representing various deities, animals, or mythical characters. Beyond the obvious entertainment value, these dances are also seen as a form of meditation and an offering to the deities, in thanks for the monsoon rains that have enabled another good year for the crops.
Glamping in the Himalayas
We left the festival and drove to a trailhead, where a few strong men quickly hoisted our luggage upon their shoulders and led us up a wooded, stream-saddled hill. There we found our own Haa Valley paradise: a “Comfort Camp,” as the MyBhutan.com team called it, all set up and staffed entirely for us. We had a dining tent with a bar, including delicious Bhutan wines, whiskeys, and coffees. Just up the hill, our bedroom tent featured cots with mattresses and extra blankets. There were end tables with lamps, books, charging stations, and even a Bluetooth sound system. Two nearby tents featured a portable toilet and a shower, complete with hot water.
After settling in, we were visited by a reincarnated monk who read our fortunes based on astrological charts. But he wouldn't be the only guest we'd receive that night.
As we sat around the crackling campfire, sipping on delicious Bhutanese whiskey, we saw flashlights climbing up the trail toward us. “You have a special guest this evening,” said Pencho. It was Tshering Dorji, one of Bhutan's former Parliament members whom we'd only met in passing during the festival. He joined us at our campsite for several hours of food and fellowship. Before we broke camp, the men blessed prayer flags in the sacred smoke of our campfire. Two brave souls scampered high into the pines to dangle the flags in the Himalayan breeze. The prayers were to spread goodwill and compassion, and to protect us on our long journey.
Thimphu
Thimphu is Bhutan's political and economic epicenter, home to the royal family and to the nation's most important government institutions. Overlooking the city is a massive statue of Buddha. It's 167 feet tall and is one of the largest sitting Buddha statues in the world. We also visited Tashichho Dzong, Thimphu's main fortress-monastery, where “Thimphu Tsechu” festival celebrations were well underway. The festival crowds were much bigger here than in Haa Valley. Clown-like figures worked the masses, keeping kids and adults alike entertained between colorful Cham dances depicting Buddhist stories and legends.
Punakha Valley
From Thimphu, we ventured further east—and arguably further back in time—to Punakha, which was Bhutan's original capital until 1955. Punakha Valley can be shocking to some, and not just because of its sunshine-yellow rice paddies and postcard-perfect village vistas. We parked in Sopsokha, a small village, where the walls, doors, and windows of virtually every shop and home carry bold fertility symbols. The devout believe they ward off evil spirits, and it's all to honor one unconventional Buddhist monk, known affectionately as “The Divine Madman.”
Something of a 15th-century folk hero, Lama Drukpa Kunley was infamous for his unorthodox and eccentric ways of teaching Buddhism to common people. He openly mocked authority and hypocritical monks. He loved music. He loved wine. And yet, despite his karmic tomfoolery, he's revered as one of the great mentors in Buddhism for showing that there is more than one path to Enlightenment. Today, couples hoping to conceive flock here from all over the world to visit Chimi Lhakhang, the Temple of Fertility built in 1499 to honor the Divine Madman.
Tiger's Nest
On the sixth day of our adventure, Pencho suggested we rise early to begin our three-hour ascent to Taktshang Monastery, also known as Tiger's Nest. Arriving at the base camp, we quickly realized that most of the trekkers here at this hour were horses, preparing to haul monastic supplies up the steep mountain.
“We don't recommend people ride horses up the mountain,” said Pencho. “It causes suffering for the animal, and so it also hurts your own spiritual merit.”
This cliff-hanging monastery is one of Bhutan's most sacred religious sites. Legend has it that Guru Rinpoche flew to these caves to meditate—on the back of a tigress, no less. The monastery is perched on the very brink of a 3,000-foot cliff, towering high above Paro Valley.
You can plan your own Bhutan adventure at MyBhutan.com.
Story and photos by Mike Ragsdale; additional photography via Shutterstock. Beach Happy Magazine, Winter 2024.
