A Journey Through Bhutan: Nagaraju’s Thrillophilia Review
For Nagaraju K B, travelling to Bhutan had been a long-cherished dream. When the time finally came, he and his wife felt a quiet joy, almost like a child’s anticipation before a festival. The gentle flight into Bagdogra set the tone, with soft clouds parting to reveal lush hills. From there, their driver whisked them towards Mirik. Unfortunately, the weather greeted them unkindly. Rain poured endlessly in Mirik and later in Phuentsholing, washing away their plans of sightseeing. They spent those days mostly indoors, sipping tea and gazing through misty windows. They stayed inside and enjoyed each other's company.
But Bhutan itself was a balm that healed all disappointments. The moment they crossed into the kingdom, a different energy surrounded them. Thimphu welcomed them with clean streets and crisp air that felt lighter, almost purer. The Dzongs stood tall in their traditional grandeur, framed against the mountains. Their hotel was warm and inviting, with staff who treated them like family. Their driver was attentive and thoughtful, understanding that the couple were not young travellers anymore. They never rushed the pace, offering kind words, patient pauses, and steady hands whenever the terrain grew uneven.
The drive through Dochula Pass became one of Nagaraju’s most cherished memories. The mist lifted for a fleeting moment, unveiling the Himalayan peaks, their snow gleaming under the sun. Prayer flags fluttered in the breeze as if whispering blessings, and he felt a calm that words could scarcely capture. Punakha left another deep impression. The grand Punakha Dzong, with its intricate woodwork and the river flowing alongside, felt like a living painting. Crossing the long suspension bridge tested their balance, but with his wife’s hand in his and prayer flags streaming above, the crossing became more exhilarating than daunting.
It was in Paro, however, that the journey reached its emotional peak. The trek to Tiger’s Nest monastery was not an easy one. At his age, every step along the steep trail demanded effort and Nagaraju found himself pausing often to catch his breath. Their guide, ever encouraging, pointed out shrines and resting spots along the way. More than once, he considered turning back, but his wife’s quiet determination inspired him to continue. Hours later, when the monastery finally appeared, clinging impossibly to the cliffside, a surge of peace and accomplishment washed over him. Inside its hushed chambers, where incense hung in the air and murals told centuries of devotion, he understood why so many pilgrims undertook this journey. It was less tourism and more a spiritual encounter.
One evening in Paro, after the trek, the couple treated themselves to a traditional hot stone bath. The sound of the river outside, the warmth of the stones, and the fragrance of herbs dissolved every ache. Later, over a simple vegetarian meal, they reflected on the thoughtfulness with which their needs had been handled. As vegetarians, they had worried about food options but every stop had something wholesome. Their guide even took extra care to check menus, ensuring they were always comfortable, an attentiveness they deeply appreciated.
There were imperfections along the way. There were issues with the car’s air conditioner, though Bhutan’s cool valleys often compensated with fresh mountain breezes. Still, these minor blemishes could not dim the brilliance of the journey.
In Paro, the couple stayed at Club Mahindra Khangkhu Resort, which they had booked separately, and it served them well. Yet, Nagaraju’s heart stayed with the hotels arranged by Thrillophilia, whose warmth and hospitality lingered in memory.
Looking back, it was the rhythm of Bhutan that stayed with him: the morning prayers drifting on the wind, monks moving with quiet dignity through monastery courtyards, the colourful markets of Thimphu, and the serene expanse of Paro Valley. Every place seemed to slow time, urging him to breathe deeper and listen inward.
Thrillophilia had handled most of the arrangements smoothly, sparing the couple the usual burdens of travel planning. The trip gave him and his wife not just adventure but reflection, and even with its flaws, it became one of the most memorable journeys of their lives.
When the time came to leave, driving back through Chelela Pass and watching the snow peaks slip behind the horizon, Nagaraju felt both contentment and longing. Bhutan had offered beauty, stillness, and lessons in patience. Despite wet days and steep climbs, the memories carried home were radiant with joy.
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