Between October 1990 and June 1992, I lived in a remote eastern corner of Bhutan. Eastern Bhutan was remote even by Bhutanese standards. There was this border town called Samdrupjhonkar in the foothills which was reachable from Guwahati, Assam.
The name was quite a mouthful and that’s why even the locals used to call it just Samdrup. My town Mongar was some 270 kms from Samdrup. The entire journey was through the mountains and on a good day it was about 12 hours by bus – 6 am to 6 pm. On bad days it could easily take upto 16 hours to reach Mongar from Samdrup.
The first town and the first stop on this route was Tashigang at a distance of 180 km to the north from Samdrup. Another 90 kms to the west and you reached Mongar. Tashigang had a few buildings and even a town square with a huge prayer wheel in the middle where the bus would stop for passengers to have a quick bite or leak or both. Many would also take this opportunity to down a few Apsos or Dragon rum quickly.
There were just three direct buses to Mongar from Samdrup. Not daily, but weekly. If memory serves me right I think it was Monday, Wednesday and Friday. So we would typically reach Samdrup on a Sunday evening. Get the ticket for the Monday bus. Spend the night in a hotel in Samdrup. And then travel on Monday. If there was no ticket for tomorrow’s bus, you had to wait till the day after day after tomorrow.
You also had the option to go till Tashigang the next day. This was a daily service and chances of getting a ticket in that bus was better (but even this wasn’t certain). You would then spend the night there in Tashigang. Next morning you took the bus to Mongar, which was also a daily service.
This particular Sunday I realized tomorrow’s bus was full. Even the Tashigang bus was full. I think even the Wednesday bus had no ticket. In the morning I took a chance and went to the bus stand, hoping to get some other private vehicle.
Sure enough there was this loaded Toyota Hilux pickup truck in the bus stand that was going to Mongar High School. In fact that vehicle belonged to the high school and it was carrying ration for the school’s hostel. The cabin was already full – I think the headmaster’s wife was there along with a few of her children. A couple of high school students were perched on top of the load behind. They told me that if I didn’t mind hopping on top of the canvas that covered the ration they had no objection. So I did just that.
Primary school teachers were looked down upon by people connected with the high school in Mongar. Even the high school students or cooks looked at us like we were some lesser mortals. It never quite bothered me really. Indeed lesser mortals were sent to the primary schools. However, I never failed to notice the little nuances in their attitude towards teachers from the high school with a sense of amusement.
I was fairly thrilled by this opportunity. I had traveled in Indian and Nepal Himalaya on the roof of buses and trucks or even a tipper in Nepal and enjoyed it immensely. You get a fantastic 360 degree view of the mountains and feel one with nature.
And I thought this journey would be something like that. But soon I realized how different and dangerously difficult this journey was going to be. Easily this is the most difficult journey I have ever made so far in life on four wheels.
First, I was sitting on uneven surface. God only knows what all was there under the canvas. I guess rice, wheat, salt etc. in gunny sacs. Whatever they were, it wasn’t at all comfortable for human beings to sit on. The other and more dangerous problem was, there was nothing to hold on to, except the thick nylon rope with which the canvas was secured.
But the worst part was, the twists and turns on this road. This road is not straight for more than 10-15 feet at a stretch and probably had a few million bends. So as the vehicle kept snaking up the road, our body was getting flung from side to side due to the centrifugal force. I was clutching on to the rope for dear life. The palm became red in no time. Then I realized that perhaps lying on my stomach would be a better idea. It also started drizzling a bit.
The entire journey for me was spent in trying to work out how not to get flung off the vehicle and I constantly tried various different positions and postures, including standing on the bumper behind. My fellow passengers – the students of Mongar High School – were more hardy than me. Even they were pretty tired of this.
By the time we reached Tashigang around midday I was thoroughly drenched. And my palm didn’t look like mine. It was looking like a gorilla’s palm (have you seen those in NatGeo?).
The VIP lady in the vehicle decided to spend a couple of hours chatting with a friend there and we got a chance to recuperate. Finally the vehicle restarted and now I got a seat inside the cabin and ended the journey more or less comfortably.
I will most definitely go to Bhutan again. This time in my own vehicle. And I hope to do a trans-Bhutan trip. Going up from Phuntsholling to Thimphu and Paro and then via Punakha and Wangdi to Mongar. On the way will be Tongsa and Bhumthang. I will go to Tashigang and then down to Samdrup. I am told that Bhutan does not allow entry through one point and exit through another. But I suppose if I use my connections that I have now, these permissions will come through fairly easily, including the permission to stay in the Dzongs’ guest houses, which are supposed to be top class.
Let me see.
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