Threading the (Foggy) Needle

The landscape of Bhutan is like a crumpled piece of paper, full of folds and ripples and ridges and dips. The hiking we have done through Bhutan's valleys gives a good sense of the small features of this dramatic landscape, but flying over the top of it is just an astonishing perspective of valleys nested in valleys defined by steep folds.

The first time we flew into Paro, the weather was clear and we could easily see the path the plane took, weaving up narrow valleys and alongside steep slopes that seemed not far enough from the tips of the plane’s wings. It was dramatic and somewhat intimidating; the Paro airport is apparently one of the most difficult in the world to fly in and out of. I believe it. Supposedly there are just a handful of pilots who are certified to fly here.

 

Flying in this time, we were in the fog and clouds for much of the flight from Bangkok. There was not much to see, just a gray shroud obscuring the ground. When we were close to Paro, the pilot announced that they were going to TRY to land, he wasn’t sure if conditions would allow it but he would keep us posted on our progress. Oy. I couldn’t imagine where else we would go if he couldn’t land. 

 

As we traveled towards Paro, we got occasional glimpses of the ground below through breaks in the clouds, only to be swaddled in gray again after a few moments. The plane would drop a little, work its way forward threading through valleys we couldn’t really see, then rise up again, occasionally turning to make a wide circle. At one point the plane began a shift to circle, only to immediately be completely encased in clouds, and I realized that I had no idea which way was up or left or straight ahead. We continued this crazy up, down, and sideways path for what seemed like a long while after the pilot announced that yes, we were getting ready to land. But I surprised myself by not being tense and panicky - my brain said that there was nothing I could about it, and I had to just trust that our pilot knew the terrain, the weather, the nuances of how to work his way into this dot of an airport at the bottom of a 7000-foot-high valley filled with cotton. So I instead focused on taking photos of this crazy landing. It was pretty amazing.

My apologies if these photos make you a little seasick or give you a headache. I do hope they convey the drama of the descent that we were making, and the beauty of the landscape.

What the airport looks like with feet on the ground

That’s all a long way of saying we got here safe and sound, are working through the jet lag and altitude adjustment, and are happy to be getting settled in after the last few months of juggling logistics. 

 

Keep writing. We love the connections to family and friends back home.