The Guardian

Bhutan:

A tourist tax funds health care and education for the people of the small Himalayan kingdom. It’s a price well worth paying

Visiting this closed and predominantly rural Himalayan kingdom Bhutan is like a trip back in time. With cars limited by government quota and 80 per cent of Bhutanese an hour or more by foot from the nearest road, travel is difficult and laborious.

Outside the capital, Thimphu, workers sing in the fields and farmers plough with a pair of oxen.

Dzongka, a minority dialect imposed by government decree, is Bhutan’s official language, but English is the lingua franca. School classes are taught in English, menus list omelettes alongside momos, shop signs and street names are printed in Roman capitals. Most teens can give directions to an Internet cafe or the market; adults are polite and helpful. Sometimes it seems everybody knows everybody else with a population of 6,00,000.

Bhutan is decidedly non-western. Both sexes keep their hair short and neat, behave modestly and are required by law to wear traditional costume in public. Men sport the belted, knee-length coat called a ‘gho’, worn with shorts and long socks; women, the ankle-length skirt called a ‘kira’, and a short jacket. Trainers seem to be optional for both sexes.

Few cars and no heavy industry make for pristine mountain air. The food, at least the rice and vegetables, is mostly grown locally and chemical-free. But the lack of visual pollution appeals most: there is no advertising of any kind in Bhutan. Mobile phones have arrived, but are blissfully rare — the mountainous terrain renders them generally useless.

Tourism is a low-volume, high-cost affair which profits the nation yet prevents environmental degradation: tourists pay a flat-rate US$200 per day (includes accommodation, internal transport and food) whatever their itinerary. This keeps annual tourist numbers down to around 6,000, while tour operators pay 35 per cent of this fee in 'tourist tax’’ to the treasury, which funds the free health care and education that all Bhutanese now enjoy.

Most tourists come for trekking in unspoilt mountain ranges, like the 23-day Snowman Trek, much of it above 4,000 metres. Despite paying around $5,000, few complete the course, said to be the world’s most arduous.

The most famous of these is Taktsang, the Tiger’s Nest. Appearing to have sprouted from a mountainside above a 1,500 metre sheer drop.

Though badly damaged by fire in 1998 and still under reconstruction, Taktsang rewards the three-hour uphill hike, and not just for the sweeping views: its shrine rooms are lavishly decorated, adorned with gold plate, and full of antique icons and statuary of exceptional beauty. Though normally reserved for Bhutanese nationals only, foreigners can visit if they request a permit in advance.

The Tiger’s Nest hotel, about 10km north of Paro, opposite Taktsang, is a good base for exploring the valley, with a commanding view of the monastery and a tranquil, traditional atmosphere.

Conversely, the recently completed Kyichu Resort, halfway between Taktsang and Paro, is a modern hotel complex complete with its own discotheque, and the area’s big Saturday night location.

The other end of the valley is dominated by Paro Dzong, an enormous white fortress-monastery, overlooking Paro town and the country’s sole international airport. In March, the dzong hosts the Paro Tsechu, an annual five-day festival in honour of Guru Rinpoche, the Indian tantric wizard-saint who introduced Buddhism to both Bhutan and Tibet.

On the second day, several thousand locals in national costume and a few dozen tourists in fleeces and hiking boots crowded into the dzong’s ancient stone courtyard to witness the zhana cham, or black hat dance, performed by a dozen male dancers in extravagant brocade dresses with skull motifs, whirling like dervishes. An invocation of local protector deities, the dance purifies the ground for the year ahead and dispels malevolent spirits.

The final day of Tsechu begins before dawn and ends shortly afterward, with many thousands climbing the steep path to the metre square, depicting Guru Rinpoche in various manifestations, the very sight of which is considered a blessing.

This huge icon is draped over an internal wall of the dzong, and after ritual dances to invoke Guru Rinpoche’s presence, pilgrims clutching handfuls of burning incense queue to press their foreheads against it — a blessing.