Dr Karma Wangchuk has the looks and build of an All Blacks prop forward - which startles me. I thought I'd be met at Paro Airport by an ethereal, retreating being simply because I knew he had been a monk for seven years.
I've come with a group of friends to join a 14-day tour with Vajra Guru Spiritual Travels in the Kingdom of Bhutan.
Dr Karma, our guide, strides purposefully towards me and shakes my hand with enthusiasm. In the nippy winter air of Bhutan he is resplendent in his gho, which he wears the way a heavyweight boxer would.
Gho, the traditional male dress of Bhutan, is a cross between a chuba (Tibetan long coat) and a dressing gown. Made of checkered, woven cloth worn to just below the knee, secured around the waist with a woven belt and pulled up loosely above it to make an ample hold-all (for everything from maps to babies), the gho makes the wearer appear impressively elegant.
Turned-over white collar and cuffs - coming halfway up the forearm - argyle socks and trekking boots complete the look. I also catch a glimpse of thermal long johns, an understandable defence against the stiff, icy breeze.
In the wake of this phenomenal being, listening to tales of wrathful deities and holy madmen, we plunge into Bhutan's valleys, where legend and myth emanate from every monastery. This time we have come to observe the return of the black-neck cranes migrating from the high Tibetan plateau. But much more is in store for us.
At Drukpa Kuenley's monastery, otherwise referred to affectionately as the divine madman's temple, we learn why phallic representations are so prevalent in Bhutan. A folk hero of the 15th century, Drukpa was steeped in the practice of Tantric Buddhism and had peculiar means of conveying his teachings. Pragmatic and direct, he carried a walking stick with a phallus head in one hand and a bow and arrow (to subjugate demons) in the other. Bawdy stories surround his name as he was fond of song, drink and sex.
In today's Bhutan, painted phalluses adorn farm walls (some elaborate and sporting pink ribbons) and wooden ones dangle from the four corners of roofs. As Drukpa's preferred weapon against bad energies, they have been adopted far and wide.
Drukpa's monastery is visited today by childless couples who converge here to be blessed by a tap on the head with a wooden phallus. As we approach, picking our way through yellow fields of rapeseed, two Bhutanese men are coming away from the shrine. They each carry a baby.
Dr Karma explains that successful couples return to the shrine with their newborn in tow. This place's fame has spread beyond Bhutan. Couples from around the globe come asking for a child.
I don't know whether to be alarmed or comforted by Dr Karma's occasional bursts of low-key praying in the car. Driving to the Phobjikha Valley, where the cranes congregate, it seems the higher we get the more the prayers intensify. The sound is like the gentle rumble of snowmelt carrying boulders downstream. It is only after I exchange seats with him that I realise, for a man of his size, the van's folding extra seat must be murder on his back.
Once ensconced in our Phobjikha hotel overlooking the cranes' winter playground, I probe his amazing past. I learn the bright Bhutanese PhD student of Buddhist philosophy in Delhi used to spend his summers in Sikkim teaching philosophy at a monastery. The abbot there suggested he become a monk. He did. After seven years wearing the robes, while still at university, he found himself married to a beautiful Indian classical musician, almost by accident. And so the wheel of samsara (Sanskrit for "wandering through transformation in an endless flow of suffering") began turning.
Photographing cranes is not easy and is best done before the sun clears the peaks, when the cranes are feeling sluggish. We also feel sluggish: the Bhutanese traditional hotels have bukharis in each room, which means you have to get up at least 10 minutes early to start the fire and then jump back into bed until the room is warmed.
The birds feed on the ground in their hundreds. For a long time I watch from an elevated point, sitting on a rock, freezing. These are the cranes Kublai Khan used to observe over the north China skies. From the warmth of his golden oversized palanquin - rigged up over four elephants - the obese and gout-ridden Khan would wait to give a signal to his falconers. When the skies were darkened by the cranes, the falconers released their birds. Golden eagles systematically plucked cranes from the skies while the Khan cheered.
For us, though, trying to get close enough for a good shot is like pursuing a flock of sheep. We advance: the cranes move a little. We take a step: the cranes move again. I'm lagging far behind, disheartened. The distance ratio is steady. At one point my photographer friend gets too close and the cranes take off and fly over my head. Bingo. I shoot with my eyes closed and get a nearly perfect shot. He cannot believe it.
As we progress east en route to Monggar, there are icicles among ferns and a thick dusting of snow on cedars bearing the scars of past lightning storms. Truncated trees, standing like skyscrapers' skeletons after an explosion, stretch their half-burnt limbs to the greying skies. Mistletoe and Spanish moss festoon the broken branches.
Clumps of delicate bamboo mingle with rhododendrons and azaleas. The magnolia trees are denuded. Nearing Monggar after traversing a tropical valley full of banana and papaya trees, we encounter a group of young farmers on an educational trip. They are heading west to learn different agricultural methods. They are Brokpa people, inhabitants of the remote eastern valleys. The girls wear yak's wool hats with wool tendrils sticking out. The men are in their traditional deep-red half-chuba over short felt pants similar to Tyrolean lederhosen.
When we hear a clash of cymbals in Monggar we follow the crowd to the Gompa (monastery) and take a seat overlooking an area where monks and a group of men dressed as Mongol soldiers in full regalia (a throwback to the memory of Genghis Khan's alliance with Tibet) follow in the wake of an abbot clad in black robes and hat. He advances towards a giant pyre - as yet unlit - and ceremonially throws effigies of demons into it.
Members of the crowd jeer and throw handfuls of corn and rice husks in the air. A soldier fires a gun and, simultaneously, the officiant hurls a fireball, igniting the bonfire. The moustachioed Mongol soldiers do a stylised martial dance. They slice the air with their curved swords and look terrifying in their metal helmets gleaming in the sun. Long copper horns blast the mountain air, cymbals clash and evil forces are finally consumed in an all-purifying fire.
Life restarts for another year. The village has been rid of bad energies.
While in Trashigang we hear there is a monastic festival at Rhadi, a few kilometres away. Masked monks in lavish costumes are re-enacting the coming of Buddhism to Bhutan in the eighth century. The ritual dances are broken up by the presence of jesters who wear masks of Indian appearance (as Buddhism was introduced by Indian gurus). They play with children, make bawdy remarks, carry a wooden phallus in their hand and some sport inflated condoms in their headdress (to spread the word about safe sex).
Back in western Bhutan, our last three nights are spent in luxury at the Uma Paro - a well-deserved treat, we think, after chilly mornings stalking cranes and coaxing dead fires back to life. On the second day, we all go to the airport to farewell Dr Karma, who is on his way to a three-month retreat in Bodh Gaya, India. He is seriously considering taking up the robes for good.
TRIP NOTES
Thai Airways and Qantas fly to Bangkok to link with Druk Air, the only airline flying to Bhutan. Druk Air will offer a 25 per cent discount for travel between May 15 and August 1 this year and a 35 per cent discount for groups of 10 or more.
Vajra Guru Spiritual Travels, see bhutanspiritual.com, email vajraguru@druknet.bt, phone + 975 2 335588. The minimum tariff for tourists visiting Bhutan in a group of three or more is $US200 ($288) a person, a day (US$165 in low season). This tariff, which is set by the Royal Government of Bhutan, includes twin share accommodation, meals, guide and transportation. In other words, all travel companies charge basically the same and add extras when superior accommodation or special services are requested. A basic rule of thumb is to multiply the days by US$200, so a 10-day tour will cost a minimum of $US2000 a person. A solo traveller will pay an additional $US40 a day; travelling in a pair costs an additional $US30, so it pays to get a group together or join others at your agent's suggestion. Vajra Spiritual Travels is offering a 10 per cent discount if contacted through their website.
Sign up for the Traveller Deals newsletter
Get exclusive travel deals delivered straight to your inbox. Sign up now.