Home » Bhutan » Punakha, Saturday the 6th of August

I wake to the sounds of water and the smell of wood smoke. After a couple of nights here, I no longer feel cut off from the world but protected from it and not particularly anxious to move away.<br/><br/>

After a short breakfast we made our way to the Â“sports areaÂ” of the city to see an archery match. Archery is taken terribly seriously here, so seriously that it is the national sport and every village, no matter how small, has an archery range.
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Punakha, Saturday the 6th of August

Degrubenc
2005-12-09 17:52:26

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other arable land, depriving the birds of their hunting grounds.

Mr Nice is terribly excited at the thought of seeing those birds and his excitement soon reaches me. When we arrive at the reserve, we see them immediately, they make no effort to hide or fly away. The black-necked cranes have slender, pale grey bodies, black tails and, of course, black necks. The only splash of colour is a tiny red cap. I do not find them to be of breathtaking beauty but, then again, I have never been much of a bird-watcher. I suppose I am a little disappointed that rare does not necessarily mean resplendent. Indeed, I find Mr Nice, in his red and green checked Kho, with black knee-high stockings and black city shoes, a lot more exotic than the birds I have come so far to see.

The moment is quickly over and we return to Punakha. The village of Punakha is an old capital city built on a large cliff overlooking two rivers. The dzong (fortress) is impressive with its high thick white walls, simple yet sometimes extravagant decoration and its incredible quiet.
The village itself is little more than wooden shacks hanging from the cliff side. It is not of any architectural merit but for the first time since I am in Bhutan I feel in Asia: it is noisy, cramped, dirty, the roads are in bad condition, kids running around half naked etc... Sadly, the government is building a new model traditional village further down, where every family will have a house with electricity and a sewer system as well as a parking spot and street lightening. Once the village has moved, it will be destroyed to allow the forest to take over. I know that it is good for the people and that they will live a better life for it but I canÂ’t help but feel that this uniformity in housing and traditions is removing a lot of character from the country.

The hotel is pleasant and well appointed. I'm asked if I want to have a hot stone bath before dinner. I agree, not knowing what I agreed to. I am told to report at the reception in 20 minutes. I spend the next 20 minutes wondering what a hot stone bath could be. When I get there, I am thoroughly excited by what I see. The hotel staff had made a great fire in which they heat large stones; next to the fire is a rectangular hole in the ground, with planks of wood at the bottom and on all sides. The rectangular hole is filled with cold water from the nearby river and a new plank of wood, full of holes, is fitted across, three quarters of the way down. The staff picks up some of the stones from the fire with metal claws and drop them in the small section of the bath. Upon contact with the water, the bath hisses and steam comes out. I am told to jump in the larger section, the one without the hot stones. It is surprising how effective the system is. Within minutes, I can feel the hot water coming in from the holes in the dividing plank of wood. The system is so effective that soon I can barely take the heat of the water but the staff is kind enough to pour cold water over me.

After this experience, I have a most wonderful supper and jolly good night.