On the 3rd day of our Bhutanese adventure, I was the accident victim. This time, no
manic animal could be blamed for the mishap. It was my own loss of attention. We
climbed to the Tango Monastery outside Thimphu on a beautiful morning and all of us
felt terrific; Kay & I were over the jet lag and had acclimatized sufficiently to enjoy a hike
to 10,000 ft. plus. Dan was over the malaise he had brought from Tibet and ready for an
invigorating walk in the pine forests up to this home of the 12th incarnation of one of the
Bhutanese lamas. He is currently 15 years old and he did not give us an audience despite
our march to his home.
Monks were taking a holiday and we met many of them coming down the path towards
their town visit. Buddhist faithful families were climbing up with us to make sacrifices and
perform prayers at the monastery. The trails were busy and colorful with flowers and
beautiful red- orange monk robes, and many manifestations of the national costume
on the ladies and gentlemen carrying babies and tending youngsters. It was a wonderful
day and experience to be sharing with the Bhutanese people.
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