Author: rr_admin

From eastern Bhutan, we make our way west again.

We stop for a few days in the beautiful Phobjikha Valley.

Besides being famous (in Bhutan) for its potatoes, it is also known for a yearly migration of black-necked cranes from late October to mid February.

This is Karma. He was attacked by a feral dog and suffered permanent wing damage. He is now a permanent resident of the Black-Necked Crane Visitor Centre.

The valley itself is very scenic.

We go for a hike one day. The weather is perfect.

Sunny. Not too hot.

A squad of people are building a rammed-earth house. It’s very rhythmic as the ladies pound the earth down.

This is what a rammed-earth house looks like when it’s done.

We meet a young couple from Canton, NY on our walk. Practically neighbours. They’re making a tourism video.

We stop for a rest.

We reach the goal of our hike – the Gangteng Monastery.

The next day, we hike the Lungchu Tsey pilgrimage trail. This takes several hours. When we finally get to the top, the place is locked and there are no monks in sight. Just a couple of dogs.

We enjoy the view and set off back down the mountain.

The next day, we drive over the Chelela Pass to Haa.

Haa is a sleepy kind of place.

There is an Indian Army camp in town. This is to discourage incursions from the imperialist Chinese, who – surprise, surprise – lay claim to large tracts of the Himalayas that were once ruled by Tibet. Their logic: any former Tibetan territory must naturally default to China after that country’s forcible overthrow liberation of Tibet.

The palatial size of our hotel rooms is a real treat after the space-challenged rooms of Japan.

The next day, we head back to Paro over the Chelela Pass.

This time, we stop at the pass and hike to the nearby Kila Gompa nunnery.

As is common for mountain passes, there is a riot of prayer flags.

You can see Paro far below.

The crack of a thousand flapping flags is kind of scary.

On the hike, we stop to erect a prayer flag ourselves.

After an hour or so…

Some people come to this nunnery for meditation retreats.

As you can see, some of these structures are, um, precarious, to say the least.

Sight or Insight of the Day

After nearly 2,000 KMs driving around Bhutan, it’s time to part ways with Tula and Mr. Rinsin at Paro Airport.

We’ll miss Mr. Rinsin’s sense of humour and Tula’s solicitous guidance in all things Bhutanese. Thanks, guys.

From Trongsa, we drive to Bumthang and beyond.

The morning we leave Trongsa, the dzong is shrouded in mist.

The beginning of the journey to Bumthang – we are above the clouds.

At a rest stop, the pass is covered in prayer flags.

Our accommodation in Bumthang (pronounced ‘boomTONG’, not ‘BUMthang’, FYI) is in the Tang Valley. Tula, our guide, describes our hostess, Ms. Kunzang Choden, as ‘of a noble family’. She’s also an author, having published ‘Dawa: The Story of a Stray Dog in Bhutan‘. Her husband is Swiss. We have rösti with our dinner.

On the grounds of the property is the Ogyen Choling museum.

This is the Jampa Lhakhang monastery near Bumthang. It’s famous for staging a mysterious ‘naked dance‘ annually.

Bhutan has a lot of festivals. Peak tourist season (which we are NOT in now) usually means foreign visitors want to see these spectacles performed.

It’s not something we like to do: Bhutanese people are very sincere about the importance of these dances. We feel that the more they become a tourist attraction, the less vital they become for Bhutanese identity. But that’s just us.

We visit a ‘heritage house’, which portrays traditional everyday life in Bhutan in the past.

Our hostess is the dignified Ms. Dorji Lhamo.

We are shown tools, textiles, and other artifacts.

This is the balcony at the rear. Actually, Ms. Lhamo’s house next door doesn’t seem that much different from the ‘heritage house’.

Not far from Bumthang is the Pema Choling nunnery.

Among their duties is caring for the nearby Burning Lake – an important place in the national mythology.

On the way, we see a stupa under construction. The low-tech scaffolding and ample manpower bring to mind the Pharaonic construction of the pyramids.

Another day, we make an excursion to Lhuentse.

Along the way, we stop to visit a suspension bridge over the swift-flowing  Kuri Chhu river.

Lhuentse Dzong from below.

As usual, the doors are photo-worthy.

And below flows the Kuri Chhu river.

These dzongs often combine the monastery with the local civil government.

A young monk takes a break from his studies.

We stop for a picnic lunch along the river.

We make a postprandial visit to Khoma, a village where women bring home the bacon by their weaving skills.

This woman spends about four hours a day at the loom.

That’s besides doing other household work.

We visit another monastery on top of a mountain.

In the courtyard, monks and lay people are practicing for an upcoming dance.

Tula tells us about a politically incorrect Bhutanese saying: ‘Beware of women or monks driving.’

Another fancy door.

Some monks relax in the garden.

View of the river far below.

This monk is very generous about explaining the history of the monastery.

We arrive back in Trashigang.

Trashigang looks a bit like an Elizabethan town.

Tula, Mr. Rinsin, and I stock up on water for the road.

Archery is the national sport of Bhutan.

We see a fascinating example of how this works. Rivals shoot from 125 meters (!) away. The opponents do a mocking dance in front of the target, daring the other side to come close to hitting them (while keeping a close eye on the actual trajectory of fired arrows.) When a team does score a bulls-eye, then begins an elaborate dance that looks like a bunch of football players celebrating a touchdown.

Sight or Insight of the Day

We hear that João Gilberto passed away. Descanse em paz, amigo.

This man almost single-handedly brought Bossa Nova to the world. That world is a richer place for containing such classics as ‘Chega de saudade‘ and ‘Corcovado‘.

See you in another life, João.

From Punakha we drive to Trongsa. Much of the route follows these death-defying dirt roads.

As usual, around mid-morning we stop for a tea.

We pass many stupas along the way.

We eventually arrive at the outskirts of town.

Downtown Trongsa is a hive of activity.

We get a view of the dzong from our hotel room balcony.

At our hotel, a man paints decorative dragons on the doorway.

In the valley below is a dam for a hydro-power project.

The fortress/monastery is a short stroll away.

We befriend a kitten.

Pretty amazing doors are standard in these places.

Gotta keep the monkeys out, though.

Tula takes this photo as we look out from an ornate upper gallery.

Sight or Insight of the Day – Trongsa

We read ‘Beyond the Sky and the Earth‘, by Jamie Zeppa. A quick read, and schmaltzy in the way of most chick-lit, but interesting in that many of its observations are still evident in Bhutan today. (The political tension is much reduced now.)

Bhutan is the kind of place that lends itself to over-romanticization. The country is making hay with its ‘Gross National Happiness‘ initiative – seems like a Bhutan Tourism Board marketing gimmick, really. Bhutan is already a kinder, gentler place than any surrounding country, but that’s probably more because they are a small, Buddhist country rather than anything else.

Our time in Bhutan is nearly up – we’ll try to keep the blog up to date by posting shorter entries. Here goes.

We head east from Thimphu over the Dochula Pass.

There are always things to see along the way.

We stop to visit a market. Maria stocks up on fruit.

A pair of nuns walks from one village to the next.

We stay near Punaka in a town called Lobesa. We walk through rice paddies to the temple of Chimi Lhakhang.

This is the Punakha Dzong, located at the confluence of two rivers.

As we enter, we pass an aged monk pondering life’s eternal questions.

There are giant beehives hanging above the main door.

The interior is pretty neat, too.

There’s also a great suspension bridge over the river.

Sight or Insight of the Day – Punakha

The Chimi Lhakhang temple is known for its fertility-enhancing powers.

This means many buildings in the area are adorned with graphic paintings of phalluses.

What would Freud make of it all?

Happy Canada Day!

Can July 1 be here again so soon? Doesn’t seem like a year since we were raising a glass to the True North Strong and Free in Australia.

In tribute, here’s a link to one of my favourite songs about Canada – The Longest Road – from the underappreciated songwriter/guitarist Stephen Fearing. And just so our francophone frères et sœurs don’t feel left out, a lovely version of Un Canadian Errant.

We enlist some hotel staff for a photo opp.

So until we are once more in nestled in the bosom of the Canadian motherland, we wish everyone at home a great Canada Day/Bonne Fête du Canada.

Now, where were we? Oh yeah; from Paro, we drive to the capital city of Thimphu.

The Tamchog Chakzam (iron chain bridge). According to legend, ‘Drupthob Thangtong Gyalpo was the Tibetan man who built the iron chain bridges in Bhutan in the late 1300s, and is said to have built 108 of these bridges around Tibet and Bhutan.’ 

We stop for some fruit along the way. Wrapped in plastic are cubes of local cheese.

We arrive in Thimphu.

Among Thimphu’s sights is a giant seated Buddha.

Thimphu is sometimes describes as ‘the only capital city in the world without traffic lights.’ Not quite; we know for a fact that Antananarivo, the capital of Madagascar, has no traffic lights. (Actually, they have hundreds left over from the days of French rule. They just haven’t worked in decades.)

We seek out the Bhutan Textile Museum. Unfortunately, you can’t take photos inside.

This is the Memorial Stupa, built to commemorate the third King of Bhutan.

Our guide, Tula, points out an interesting phenomenon. Some people who work in town leave their elderly relatives at the stupa grounds as a sort of ‘daycare for seniors’.

The photo below shows a killer fungus used as medicine in these parts. According to wikipedia:

‘O. sinensis parasitizes the larvae of moths within the family Hepialidae, specifically genera found on the Tibetan Plateau and in the Himalayas, between elevations of 3000 m and 5000 m. The fungus germinates in the living larva, kills and mummifies it, and then a dark brown stalk-like fruiting body which is a few centimeters long emerges from the corpse and stands upright.’

This is taken in a post office. Someone’s going to get a special treat in the mail.

Sight or Insight of the Day

We visit a fair-trade shop that sells Bhutanese textiles and other things at a fixed price.

Bhutan has a rich tradition in textiles.

These jackets – tegos – are worn by women.

An array of silk scarves.

We pick out a few things to send home.

We are happy to arrive in small, calm, Bhutan. We have a bias towards small countries.

We fly from Delhi to Paro in Bhutan. On the way, we pass the peak of Mount Everest (according to the captain.)

Landings at Paro’s pocket-sized airport are exciting. You descend close to the mountains, then bank steeply right and down a valley.

To no great surprise, it makes the list of ‘ten most dangerous airports in the world‘.

We are met at the airport by our guide, Tula, and our driver, Rinzin.

(In an effort to avoid overwhelming numbers of visitors, Bhutan practices ‘high-value, low-impact’ tourism. This means most foreign visitors must travel with a booked package, at a substantial daily rate, including a guide and a driver.)

Paro isn’t the biggest town in Bhutan, but it is where the international airport is located.

On our way to the hotel, we pass groups of young monks.

Our hotel is a training ground for a local hospitality college.

The view from our hotel.

Our first stop is the Rinpung Dzong. A dzong is a fortress/temple.

It’s an ‘auspicious day’, so the monastery has many visitors. These local girls and women wear the kira, the national garment for women.

This lone girl dances to her own inner rhythm.

Up the hill is a national museum, currently under repair for earthquake damage.

The grouping of white prayer flags are a memorial for a deceased person. According to Tula, they should be ‘high up and overlooking a river.’

We hike up into the surrounding hills.

We drop in on a small monastery. Tula discreetly checks if anyone is home. The resident monk is in town, running errands.

We visit Kyichu Lhakhang, one of the oldest monasteries in the country.

Tula works the prayer wheels. He wears the kilt-like national garment for men, the goh.

In the courtyard of Kyichu Lhakhang. We are not used to having a third person to take our photo together.

I get a lesson in spinning prayer wheels.

Rooftops in Kyichu Lhakhang.

Local truck carrying logs.

Another day, we hike to the Taktsang monastery.

In truth, we cheat slightly: we ride ponies halfway up the trail.

Lots of prayer flags along the way.

My pony, Tinka, is a good little horse.

Nearly there. We are hardly alone – Western visitors are few, but Indians can visit visa-free and travel independently. They are abundant.

Last image of the day is the Rinpung Dzong lit up at night.

Sight or Insight of the Day – Paro

A thing in Bhutan is a ‘hot-rock bath’. This involves heating rocks in a fire.

Next, you drop them into a tub of water. The client-containing part of the tub is protected from the rock-containing part.

Meanwhile, the client on the other side luxuriates in the steamy brew.

From Tokyo to New Delhi, via Bangkok. Not surprisingly, we find ourselves in a different world.

• Because of India’s location on the planet, flights often arrive and depart in the middle of the night, including ours.
• We book one night in a hotel near the airport and arrange for a pickup from the airport.
• Because our luggage takes an hour and a half to reach the baggage carousel, our scheduled driver is gone.
• We are forced to take a ‘metered’ cab. The driver has no idea where our hotel is.
• We finally find it. The driver charges us over twice the official fare.
• Because we are exhausted, (and because we’re grateful not to be simply dumped off in the middle of nowhere on the outskirts of Delhi), we pay up.

However, none of this is totally unexpected. Next day, we make our way to our ‘real’ hotel. We have a balcony that looks out onto the great street carnival of Delhi life.

Our hotel is in the Paharganj area.

The traffic is intense.

The noise of a thousand horns honking is indescribable.

It’s close to a metro station, which is probably the easiest way to navigate around Delhi.

We are in New Delhi for a few days before we leave for our next destination.

Around the corner is the Imperial Cinema.

One afternoon we go to the Red Fort.

Lots of stuff to see inside.

Across the street is the Sri Digambar Jain temple.

They have a bird hospital. We are interested in visiting – our favourite charity in Ottawa is the Wild Bird Care Centre – but visiting hours are over. Next time we’re in town, perhaps.

We struggle through the Brueghelian chaos of Chandni Chowk to get to the Red Fort.

Not far from our neighbourhood is Connaught Place, with its faded colonial glory.

It’s 45 degrees Celsius. Everyone – including us – is trying to conserve their energy.

Another day we visit the neighbourhood of Hauz Khas. Among other sights are these 15-16th century mausoleums, the Dadi – Poti (‘grandmother-granddaughter’ ) tombs. We wander around and soak up the antiquity.

Sight or Insight of the day

As we mentioned, it is 45 degrees Celsius in Delhi. A local temple hands out free cups of liquid refreshment.

Apparently in Canada, we want to ban single-use plastics. That’s not really an issue in India yet.

Sadly, it’s time to leave Japan after two months.

As we fly from Okinawa to Kobe, we spy what looks like the Golden Gate Bridge. This is in fact the Akashi Kaikyo Bridge.

We visit it the next day.

It is enormous.

You can stand on a glass deck in the Visitor’s Centre.

The mind boggles at the engineering science and social organization that goes into the planning and construction of this steel-and-concrete behemoth.

Kobe was the site of the Great Hanshin Earthquake in 1995. This event takes 6,000 lives.

We are in Kobe: we have to splash out on a dinner of Kobe beef at Tor Road Steak Aoyama.

Interesting historical fact: until 1872, eating meat was banned in Japan for over 1,200 years.

We are in Osaka, our original point of entry, for the third time. And for the third time we stay at the Tani9 Backpackers.

It seems so long ago that we first arrived in Japan, slightly overwhelmed by the hectic pace and unfamiliar culture after laid-back New Zealand. The atmosphere at the Tani9 is so relaxed and friendly, we ended up spending five days here as we acclimatize. It’s good to be back.

And we get to see Akubi again.

We take a day trip to Nara, once the capital of Japan. The temples are known for their tame deer.

They have been for centuries.

Other views.

We catch a train to Kyoto. While there, we visit the Tale of Genji Museum in nearby Uji.

The Tale of Genji is a strange thing. Over 1,200 pages long, it’s a ‘novel of manners’ written in the 11th century by a woman, Murasaki Shikibu.

Like many great works, you get the feeling it might contain entire worlds between its covers. Don’t know if I’ll ever get to read it, though; my dwindling stock of days in this world probably preclude starting 1,000-plus-paged novels. (No terminal illnesses – simply age.) Too bad there’s not a Classics Illustrated version.

We see the Metropolitan Museum in NYC is having a Genji-themed exhibit: ‘The Tale of Genji’ and the Art It Inspired

The last ten chapters (out of 54) take place in Uji. Hence the location of the museum. The building is attractive – sleek and modern.

Wandering in Uji, there is a street fair going on. I sample some of the best grilled tuna I’ve ever tasted.

In Kyoto itself, we come across a crew demolishing an old Kyoto-style wooden building. Sad.

But of course many parts of Kyoto retain their charm.

In Kyoto, seeing groups of women – or couples – dressed in full geisha gear is common. Seeing a group of teenage boys much less so.

Then back to Tokyo for six days. One of our first stops is the Hokusai Museum.

Katsushika Hokusai reminds us of Rembrandt Van Rijn. Both artists spent most of their lives in the same neighbourhood, probably never traveling further than 100 KMs from home, but creating an entire cosmos in their work.

The Great Wave Off Kanagawa – the original:

Which inspires many variations, such as this Van Gogh-style effort:

For those who like rabbits…

…or for those who like pugs (you know who you are!):

A late painting by Hokusai for a shrine, now restored (recreated, really) after being destroyed in the Great Kanto Earthquake.

Set into the plaza in front of the museum:

We like this noren-shaped building in the Sumida district .

We catch a single act of kabuki at the Kabuki-za Theatre.

We visit the Roppongi district for its museums. They turn out to be closed that day.

The plaza of the Mori Tower has one of Louise Bourgois’ ‘Maman‘ sculptures.

Have we mentioned that people in Japan love their dogs?

Our final day in Japan, we decide to have our favourite Japanese foods. Maria opts for conveyor-belt sushi for lunch.

I choose tonkatsu at Maisen for dinner.

Sight or Insight of the Day

We are really going to miss Japan. Even if communication is often a problem, Japan has a lot going for it.

Like the Scandinavian countries, Japan has worked out a way of life that is uniquely suited to itself, for the betterment of its people. Like Scandinavia, Japan has figured out the basics:

• Make sure stuff works properly
• Keep things clean
• Be courteous to your fellow citizens
• Don’t vandalize public property
• Educate your people and keep them healthy
• (Having a sense of shame for doing bad things doesn’t hurt either)

When I was younger and in my traveling prime, I wasn’t tempted to visit Japan because I thought of Japanese society as ‘rigid’ and ‘conformist’.

These days, I tend to see people often interpret their right to be ‘non-conformist’ as privilege to be as big an asshole as possible.

People have been good to us here. We won’t say ‘sayonara‘ – that’s not a thing anymore – but ‘Jā matane‘, or ‘See you later’.

From the sub-Arctic ambiance of Hokkaido we fly to the sultry tropical atmosphere of Okinawa.

Okinawa has an interesting history. In a nutshell:

• The Ryukyu Kingdom, a separate entity, enjoys independence as a prosperous intermediary in trade between China and Japan.
• Japan annexes it in the 1870s.
• The Battle of Okinawa rages on the island in 1945 as a stepping stone for the invasion of the mainland. The Japanese army essentially uses the entire civilian population as human shields, shooting those who use Okinawan dialect as spies and urging group suicides.
• The US administers Okinawa directly until 1972. Okinawa reverts to Japan.
• Okinawans become increasingly disenchanted with having a significant area of the country occupied by American bases. Besides the risk of so much military activity in heavily-urbanized zones, crimes committed by US personnel are a problem.

We rent a car. His name is Suzuki, after David, and, well, because he’s a Suzuki.

After picking up our car at the airport, we get lost in a labyrinth of ridiculously narrow alleyways in between broad but unidentifiable major streets in Naha, the main town. Turns out that southern Okinawa is one continuous conglomeration of citified confusion.

We eventually find our minshuku, which is like a Japanese B & B.

On the road, we visit a Ryoko-era fort at Nagasuku. There are at least 30 of these around Okinawa.

The stonework in these is amazing.

We have the entire site to ourselves – probably because of the rain.

Okinawa is very urban, especially the southern part. We expect more of a tranquil, unpopulated idyll like Sado and Hokkaido. This is not the case.

We’re going to cheat here and offer web-search photos of the urbanized south. And the more scenic north.

After a few days, Suzuki gets a flat tire and has to be towed back to Naha. There is no spare tire – only a ‘puncture repair kit’ that has no instructions in English.

This is one of those travel tales in which strange things happen. While parked up with the flat, a man in a snazzy Mercedes Benz actually scrapes our bumper and we have to get the police involved. Long story. But it ends well.

We pick up a new vehicle to replace Suzuki. We name him Satoshi, after Satoshi Nakamoto.

This vehicle has mind-blowing gas mileage. We are half way around the island before the fuel gauge even begins to go down.

These guardian spirits on rooftops are an Okinawa tradition. If they weren’t so heavy, we’d send one or two home.

We reach Cape Hedo, the northernmost point of Okinawa. (This seems to be a recent theme, going to the ‘northernmost point’ of places.)

At Cape Hedo, the water is unbelievably clear. We see groups of large blue fish swimming near the shore, which don’t really show up in this photo.

Among the wildlife on the island are wild boar.

Back in Naha. Naha has an extensive monorail system.

Maria risks losing a limb to take this photo.

We get a seat right up front.

There is a well-known aquarium here that features two live whale sharks. This is reflected in a sculpture created from potted flowers in front of the Okinawa Prefectual Museum.

As well as the whale shark motif on this JAL aircraft we see at Naha Airport as we leave for the mainland.

Sight or Insight of the Day – Okinawa

People who know us know that we like rabbits. There is a brand of car in Japan called a ‘Lapin‘.

The front badge sports bunny ears.

As does the dot over the ‘I’ in the rear badge.

If we could, we’d load one into a container and send it back to Canada.

While in town, we visit the Sapporo brewery.

This is the oldest brand of beer in Japan. They also own Sleeman Breweries in Canada, we learn.

At the brewery, we have a grilled lamb dish known as a ‘Ghengis Khan’ (transliterated into Japanese as ‘Jingisukan’, a Hokkaido specialty.

We rent another car and set out.

Hokkaido is a beautiful place to drive around. Excellent roads and little traffic.

Our first stop is Furano. A big skiing spot in the winter, it’s also known for its agriculture. We have a wine and cheese party with local, um, wine and cheese.

Below, You can see a fumarole puffing out from the mountain just to the right of centre.

Our car is claret-coloured and grape-shaped. We name him Merlot.

Once again, we would not have been able to rent a car without my sister’s help in sending us International Drivers Permits.

Lake Akan is on our route.

One of Lake Akan’s claims to fame are these marimo, or round balls of algae.

Wikipedia says the marimo population is declining. Probably because the tourist shops are full of jars of marimo for sale as souvenirs.

Lots of wildlife in Hokkaido. We see deer on the road. And foxes.

We see this one in the middle of the road. When we stop, not only does he not run away, he casually trots back to our car to have a closer look.

While driving on the Shiretoko Peninsula early in the morning, we see a mamma bear and two cubs crossing the road. We only catch a fleeting glimpse through the mist, but we are impressed.

The bears here in Hokkaido are huge, unlike the ones on Honshu. They’re related to grizzlies. I’ve lived in Canada most of my life and I’ve never seen a wild bear. Strange that the first country I see one in is Japan.

The Shiretoko Peninsula is has a very remote feel.

At the top of the Shiretoko Pass, you can see the Russian island of Kunashir in the Sea of Okhotsk. (In fact, the Russians stole this island and others at the end of WWII. Long story.)

While driving we run into a severe dust storm.

From time to time, we stop in Japanese roadhouses called Michi-no-Eki. This one is shaped like a cargo ship.

It has interesting local products for sale.

We reach Wakkanai, the northernmost point of Japan.

There is an irregular ferry from here to nearby Sakhalin Island in Russia. (Sakhalin Island became known to the world when the Soviets shot down a Korean Airlines 747.)

Throughout the north of Hokkaido you see abandoned homesteads. We remember seeing similar sights in Iceland.

We guess that some environments are just too severe to live in. Especially in winter.

We carry on down the west coast of Hokkaido.

We come to Otaru, a former major trading town. A canal runs through the centre.

There are warehouses left over from the glory days.

We make our way overland, passing Mount Yotei, the ‘Mount Fuji of the North’.

Just north of Noboribetsu is Jigokudani, or ‘Hell Valley’. At the entrance is a giant demon. Apparently, they are the legendary inhabitants in Hell Valley – good demons who protect the numerous hot springs.

Volcanic activity in the area provides colourful sulfur pools…

…with that distinctive rotten-egg smell.

We do a few short hikes.

We soothe our feet in a natural hot mineral stream.

So do other hikers.

Summer arrives in Hokkaido at last.

Sight or Insight of the Day – Hokkaido Road Trip

All over Hokkaido, we notice these arrow signs over the road every 100 meters or so.

This because it snows a LOT in Hokkaido in winter, and sometimes the snow makes it difficult to figure out where the edge of the road is.

As Canadians, we can relate.