Richard And Jo Demeester's photos

A seemingly bored security guard picked us up at various points as we wandered through the mosque. He indicated areas we may have missed, and pointed out things that may have needed a guide. He invited us to go up to the pulpit to view. We got some tea, juice, water, and snacks. A pleasant visit to this 10,000 capacity building.

The cat decided it would be tolerant. It came out from under the table to allow itself to be patted. Admittedly, the boy was not trying to hurt, taunt, or in any way upset the cat. He just wanted to play. Now the cat was obliged to play. The boy carried it around, put it on chairs. He moved it to another locale where he stopped and stroked it. Bit by bit he upped the ante. More physical and more boisterous. Eventually literally swinging the cat. All the while, the cat had an expression on, indicating it knew it could finish all the torment with one strike of the claw, yet resisting the urge for the well meaning but misguided child.

After a not too strenuous time in the Souq, we stopped for tea. A smouldering container of coals ensured what was in the pot did not cool, and we must have sat there sipping for a solid hour and a half, at least.

It was so nice to be in Bomba for the inaugural lighting of the tree.

Sue and Sean crossed Italy to help us celebrate. Our day included such touristic sites as the Spanish Steps and Trevi Fountain.

A famous view in Rome, through a keyhole, through property belonging to SMOM (Sovereign Military Order of Malta), over to the dome of St Peter's. We took a rather less successful photo from here with film, in 1995!

In Rome, we stopped in at the "Sovereign Military Order of Malta". One of the only recognised sovereign entities without territory, they even issue passports, believed to be the rarest passports in the world.

In Paro, we found this little place with 3 or 4 tables, although seemingly doing quite a take away trade as well. Just momos. All sorts of momos. Here, we have, top to bottom: - chilli momos; - tandoori momos; - crumbed and fried momos (by a name I don't remember); and - cheese momos. The kitchen was about 3 square metres. There was one lady seated, just rolling out momo skins to be filled. A chef out back who we could only make out by shape as the shadow darted back and forth. And another two running around to take and fill orders. It was delightful, and we had food from here twice. The first time, I took takeaway back to the hotel room, and it was so good, we knew our final Bhutan dinner had to be a momo feast.

Back in Paro, we got another view of the airport, highlighting how there are no real approaches that don't avoid weaving through the terrain.

Every ingredient, bar the meat, was from the farm. The little kitten would not take no for an answer. A lap was her one intention, and discouragement was pointless.

There are rooms of varying size, with one, two, or more baths. We were in room 5. The baths were ready for us, with herbal sprigs floating in them, and steaming indications of hot water. We lowered ourselves in, and let the hot water perform its rejuvinating magic. As the water cooled, we would knock on the wooden panels. Moments later, a voice would call from the other side - "Stone?" "Yes please", we'd respond. And within a minute we would feel the thunk of large hot stones being dropped in the water of our baths. So the ends of our baths stick out through the wall, and are well divided from where we sit, and where the stones are dropped, so as to not risk our feet touching the stones directly. The stones are piled over a fire, and large metal tongs are used to move them about. Two or three men were servicing the baths, cleaning and preparing, or adding stones. It was an amazing experience.

Near Paro, we stayed at the "Tsherring Farmhouse". Our main reason for choosing it was the on-site hot stone baths. But we did want the local experience. The main building, besides being a temple, had a variety of rooms round the outside. Nothing fancy, but this was our little nook.

Perched high above Paro, the climb to this monastery was obviously rewarding. From this viewpoint, it felt tangibly close. We had ascended for nearly 2 hours, climbing somewhere between 500 and 600 metres. But, it was not over. To get "from here to there", we had to descend and re-ascend again, adding perhaps another 100 metres of work. Entry to the monastery is by ticket. The ticket office is at the start of the walk. You don't really want to forget that!

Thangtong Gyalpo, hailing from Tibet, built iron chain bridges through Tibet, Bhutan, and elsewhere in the Himalayas, in the 15th century. He is now known as Lama Chakzampa, or Iron Bridge Lama. The last surviving of the 600 year old bridges in Bhutan was washed away by floods in 2004. This is a recreation, using a lot of pieces from the original bridge.