He’s Waiting for You…

During the last 15 years, tiny Bhutan has gone from a trickle of travelers to way too many. Well, that’s been fixed now! Welcome to the real magic kingdom.

- KLARA GLOWCZEWSKA

In January, as my Drukair flight from Bangkok approached Paro International Airport in Bhutan, I was on the alert. To visit this small Himalayan Buddhist kingdom, you must surrender (after a multicountry relay from the U.S.) to a landing that is famously tricky, so much so that fewer than two dozen pilots are certified to make it. It requires maneuvering the aircraft through a long, winding valley between mountains as high as 18,000 feet to reach a short runway that comes into view only moments before touchdown. The wings of our plane, resplendent with a white dragon on a yellow and orange background, appear to be almost brushing the steep, darkly forested slopes on both sides. (Druk means dragon in Dzhongka, the Bhutanese language, and is the country’s spirit animal.) Beyond is the Himalayan range, which for 300 miles traces Bhutan’s border with China. I glimpse only a couple of snow-covered peaks before we descend deeper into the valley, but I still sense the giant mountains’ potent, ineffable presence.