Rububji, Bhutan

A Stop in Rukubji: A Traditional Farmhouse meal along the Trans Bhutan Trail

Our hike along the Trans Bhutan Trail (TBT) from Pele La continued down through a vast open meadow, passing by a campsite of semi-nomadic yak herders and a few local farmers along the way. My guide Singay and I were headed to the village of Rukubji where we would stop and enjoy a traditional Bhutanese meal at a local farmhouse. As one of the first authorized trail guides of the TBT, Singay has been setting up a network of passport ambassadors along the way who offer food and lodging to intrepid travelers.

I was looking forward to having a traditional meal and learning more about the Bhutanese way of life for many of its people. Per the World Bank, roughly 60% of Bhutanese live in rural areas today as opposed to almost 96% in 1960, before the first highway was built. The past 60 years have seen more change and modernization in Bhutan than ever before.

As we entered the village, Singay told me that Rukubji is known for its special Lhakhang (temple), Kuenzang Choling. It is believed that the temple was built over 300 years ago by a Lama named Tshendhen Duelwa. Unlike most temples, it is not built on a ridge with a view out over a valley, but rather on an extended plateau and close to two rivers. Local legend says the temple was built on top of the head of a snake demoness which was subdued by Duelwa.

Rukubji is also famous for its unique local dialect. While Dzongkha (which translates into the “language of the fortress”) is the official and national language of Bhutan, there are over nineteen spoken dialects throughout the country. Given its mountainous topography, many communities have been isolated for centuries and developed their own unique dialects that can still be heard today.

Rukubiji, Bhutan

Entering Rukubji, we pass by the community farm set against the backdrop of the deep, dark forest. 

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Hiking through the meadows below Pelela Pass, Bhutan

Hiking the Trans Bhutan Trail: Down from Pelela Pass

I woke up early to the glorious sunshine splashing through my hotel window in Bhutan’s Punakha Valley. It was my third day in Bhutan and my second day of hiking along the Trans Bhutan Trail and I could hardly wait. After yesterday’s hike, I had already fallen in love with the beauty, culture, and mystique of this extraordinary place. Today’s hike would bring us on yet another marvelous adventure. We would begin at the top of Pelela Pass down through a semi-nomadic yak herding community, and on to a traditional farmhouse in the village of Rukubji. It was going to be a day to remember.

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Following the footsteps of the Divine Madman along the Trans Bhutan Trail

It was my first official day of hiking along the 500-year-old  Trans Bhutan Trail (TBT). We had set off early in the morning from Dochula Pass, at 3100 m (10,171 feet) walking through thick Rhododendron forests and whistling to scare off Himalayan bears and tigers. While thankfully we didn’t run into a bear or worse, a tiger, we did see a pack of gray-faced Langurs, a species of monkeys that live in the forests of Bhutan. Today’s hike would bring us along a special part of the TBT that is known as the “Divine Madman’s Trail” and of course like all things in Bhutan, there was a famous legend behind it.  “Bhutan is a land of stories,” Singay told me while we descended through the forest to a beautiful verdant valley. “What I love most about the Trans Bhutan Trail is that is a walking museum of history, legend, and culture. And this hike is no exception. Now we are following in the footsteps of the Divine Madman, Tibetan lama Drukpa Kuenley, who arrived in this part of Bhutan in the 16th century to fulfill his legacy of suppressing evil energies through his dharma teachings”. 

Setting off down the Divine Madman's Trail through beautiful Punakha Valley

Setting off down the Divine Madman’s Trail through beautiful Punakha Valley

 Traditional farmers working the land as they have for centuries

As I looked down the lush valley at the legendary arrow house in Thinleygang, Bhutan, I thought about the tiny trinket that has laid next to me on my bedside table gathering dust for over a decade. Follow your arrow it says, reminding me of a long-held promise to be hiking in Bhutan before my next milestone birthday. I couldn’t believe that just like the Divine Madman who had shot an arrow traveling through the high plateaus of Tibet to Bhutan, I’d ended up halfway around the world as the last guest of the season on the Trans Bhutan Trail, just before my 51st birthday.

I have driven near this valley many times as a child alongside my father to return to his maternal village each year,” said 28-year-old Singay Dradul, my guide.  “I had heard the legend of the Divine Madman and the infamous Chandana Lhakhang which means house where the arrow landed. But in all those years I had never actually visited the Arrow House until I became a trail guide.”

“And here we are” he smiled as we looked down the valley at a 16th-century traditional farmhouse. “Are you ready to meet the owner and her brother and learn the history of the arrow house?”

The legendary "Arrow House" (Chandana Lhakhang) Bhutan

First glance of the legendary “Arrow House” (Chandana Lhakhang) on the right

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Dochula Pass Chortens Bhutan

Dochula Pass: If there is a will, there is a way

I arose early on my first full day in Bhutan to the sounds of stray dogs barking outside my window and the morning light shining on the mountains above the Trashi Chho Dzong  (fortress). Today was the first day of hiking on the 500-year-old newly reopened Trans Bhutan Trail and I could hardly wait. 

Room with a view. The view outside the balcony at my hotel in Thimphu. 

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Tashi Delek. Welcome to Bhutan!

After collecting my luggage, I took a deep breath and walked out of the airport to find my guide. To visit Bhutan, it is mandatory that you have a guide and a driver for the entire stay. Thus, these two people are who I’d be spending the next nine days with during my solo trip to Bhutan. While I get along easily with most people, I desperately hoped we would connect.

Dressed in a gray-colored gho, a pair of black knee-high socks and freshly polished black leather loafers, my guide smiled warmly holding a sign with my name. Nicole Melancon, Trans Bhutan Trail. 

Tashi Delek. I’m Singay. And this is Dorgi, our driver,” Singay said pointing to another young man dressed in a red and green plaid gho, Bhutan’s traditional dress“Welcome to Bhutan”. 

Little did I know, Singay, Dorgi, and I would be great friends by the end of the trip. We made the perfect team, and their jokes, laughter, knowledge, and passion for Bhutan made the trip all the more memorable.

My two new friends. Dorgi (on left) and Singay (on right).

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The last hiker of the year on the Trans Bhutan Trail: Part 1 Arrival

As we made our descent into the emerald-green Paro Valley I couldn’t stop myself from thinking I was in a scene from the Avatar. It almost didn’t look real. Just twenty minutes before, we had passed Mount Everest on the lefthand side window of the plane and I was instantly spellbound. After over ten years of dreaming, I was finally almost there.

The landing at Paro airport, the only international airport in Bhutan, is one of the most difficult and dangerous in the world. In fact, only 15 pilots are authorized to land there because it requires a manual, visual landing. Trying to navigate a jet airplane through a country that is known as the most mountainous country in the world requires guts.  Especially since Bhutan’s average elevation is 10,760 feet and mountains cover 98.8% of its total area. The only other place I had felt so fearful of landing was over the Himalayas of Nepal. And Nepal is what brought me to Bhutan.

As we descended, I couldn’t help but feel a little giddy by the magical surroundings outside the window. The valley was lush, verdant, and blanketed in trees. Lovely calming music that felt like being more at a spa than on an airplane was gently playing through the Druk Air’s loudspeakers. If this was the world’s last Shangri-La,  I was certainly very excited to see it.

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