There’s not much to do when you reach the summit of Chelela Pass, Bhutan’s highest motorable road that connects the valley of Paro with the remote Haa valley. That’s a blessing. Because at 3,998 m (13,083 ft.), if not in the fittest of health – no, the ability to binge watch (insert favorite series) is not considered as a measure of fitness - you should take things slow. Really slow. Watching-the-paint-dry kind of slow. That’s an exaggeration. You get the drift though.
The high altitude means if one is not in good physical condition, even the simple act of walking around needs to be planned a bit. For example, imagine a meal in a fine dining establishment. The whole escorted- -to-the-table act, a leather-bound menu handed over with suggestions that don’t really make any sense because, well, it’s in Italian. And it doesn’t sound anything like Pepperoni Pizza. Plus the English translations are in a font size that makes you think fondly about your ophthalmologist. So, you wait, smiling at the waiter politely, while the waiter prattles on, knowing very well, that he’s complicating things further. You heave a sigh of relief as he gives you five minutes to go through the menu. You take ten minutes before placing the order – two starters – a soup and fried calamari. That should give you enough time to Google what’s recommended in La Trattoria. Well, the point being overstated here is whether you’re having a meal or perched at an altitude that’s just 800m less than Mont Blanc, things should be done in a measured manner. No rush. Take all the time you need.
We didn’t do anything of the above. Forget fine dining. It was more of a food court experience. We walked around rapidly sampling the wares greedily. Clambered up an incline. Ventured down a rocky path for a better view. Later in the evening, a combo of headaches and stiff limbs made us realize the folly of our ways. Not the exploration bit. That’s par for the course. But how it was done. Hence the words of wisdom. Painfully gleaned from personal misadventures.
But yes, if you like listening to what can be described as a particularly energetic rendition of nature’s symphony, you’ll find yourself clutching complimentary VVIP passes at Chelela Pass. The stiff breeze rifling through the thousands of prayer flags. The sharp afternoon shower bouncing off the tiny tin-roofed shed. The cheerful yelps of a band of dogs being fed by a little girl. Her lilting laughter fading into thick rolling carpets of mist. A lone biker appearing as if by magic through the same cover of mist, the roar of his bike muffled by the wind. The muted yet excited chatter of two friends meeting by chance.
To soak all this in, just find a patch of grass. After all, that’s why you came to Bhutan. To lose yourself in the life-affirming embrace of nature. And to do nothing
