As my grandmother is from the east, I had spent my whole life listening to her stories about Eastern Bhutan — about the people, the long winding roads, the woven textiles, and the small faraway villages where people still choose to live in the old Bhutanese way, quietly untouched by the fast modern transformation happening in Bhutan. I grew up hearing about the beautiful girls of the east, their simple nature, and the soft, timid femininity the women carried so naturally.
For the longest time, the East only existed in stories for me. It felt distant, almost dreamlike. But somewhere between the winding roads, endless mountains, and cups of roadside suja, Eastern Bhutan slowly stopped feeling like a destination and started feeling personal.
PC: Pema Sebastian
Even as a Bhutanese, the farthest I had ever travelled before was Bumthang. But this time, I was going all the way to the far east, and something about that alone already felt special. The roads felt longer, but time somehow felt slower too. Every district felt like entering a different mood, a different version of Bhutan.
A group of tour operators and guides, along with two coordinators from the Department of Tourism, packed our big bags and suitcases and began the journey as Aue Checho drove us past Thimphu and towards Bumthang. I sat in the front seat, hoping to catch the best views, the kind of scenes I wanted to store not only in my camera but also in my memory. I wanted to learn something from every district we passed and simply admire the changing landscapes along the way.
At first, none of us really knew each other, so the bus was quiet. Everyone minded their own business, lost in their own thoughts. But somewhere around Lobesa, over tea and snacks, we slowly introduced ourselves. That tea stop somehow built the beginning of new friendships, and after that, the bus no longer felt silent. Conversations started flowing, laughter became louder, and the journey slowly became warmer.
The road trip to Eastern Bhutan was long. Exhausting at times, even a little scary with the endless curves and mountain roads, but I truly would not have wanted to experience it any other way. I could feel the air changing as we travelled further east. The conversations shifted, the landscapes changed, and every food stop became something we all looked forward to. Tea breaks became moments of gratitude — a chance to stretch our legs, breathe deeply, and simply pause.
One of the funniest parts of the journey was how those of us with longer legs, including me, took turns standing near the bus door just to avoid the strain from sitting too long. It sounds small now, but those little moments became part of the fun.
Every stop meant breathing in a different kind of air. Every new place meant learning something new. And every turn the bus took felt like the East was slowly revealing another side of itself to us. The further we drove past the mountains, the more beautiful everything became.
PC: Pema Sebastian
For me, travelling has always been about people. It is about meeting their souls, their kindness, and the warmth they carry. Of course, I fall in love with places too, but it is always the people who add charm to them.
Merak-Sakteng became one of my favorite places from the journey, mostly because of a little boy named Paksam. The cute little boy who shared sugar cubes with me somehow became one of the highlights of my eastern trip. Such a small moment, yet one I still think about fondly.
Then there was Bumdeling, quietly capturing glimpses of the majestic black-necked cranes from afar. Even from a distance, they looked beautiful against the landscape. The entire scenery felt peaceful and grounding, and in that moment, I simply felt grateful to be there at the right time.
It was also the grandmothers I met along the way — inviting me into their homes for tea, speaking to me like I was someone they had always known. It was our host in Trashiyangtse showing me around her house and jokingly promising to drink ara with me at night so I would not wander off alone around the town.
And then, of course, there was the karaoke hopping our group did at night. Moving from one karaoke place to another, singing loudly, laughing endlessly — those nights somehow brought everyone closer together.
These are the memories I hold onto the most from the eastern journey. Not just the places, but the people and the moments in between.
PC: Pema Sebastian
As Bhutanese, we grow up hearing stories about our own country and how different each district feels from another. People in the east hear stories about the west, and people in the west hear stories about the east. It all sounds beautiful in our imagination, but it is only when we finally travel there ourselves that we truly understand how different everything really is.
As someone born and raised in western Bhutan, travelling east almost felt like discovering another side of my own country. It fascinated me how content people seemed with their lives and how beautifully they continue to preserve their culture and traditions.
The dialect sounded beautiful. Their everyday lifestyle felt beautiful. The way they carried themselves, wore their clothes, welcomed guests, and protected their traditions all felt deeply genuine. It made me realize how layered and diverse Bhutan truly is, even within such a small country.
PC: Pema Sebastian
Eastern people are known for their hospitality, and everywhere we went, we were welcomed into homes for tea or ara. It is their quiet way of telling you that you are welcome, that their home is open to you.
One tradition I especially loved was in Merak, where the hostess would call upon friends and neighbors from the village to perform traditional dances while guests sat together enjoying cups of ara. The atmosphere felt warm, lively, and deeply connected to the community.
The head hostess would then pour locally brewed ara while making sure everyone stayed entertained throughout the night. And saying no to the drink was almost impossible. If you refused, they would jokingly pinch you and insist until you finally gave in — all in good humor, of course.
It is such a beautiful tradition, one that feels full of laughter and togetherness. And honestly, it is also the kind of tradition I quietly hope never disappears with time. Because somehow, it is these little things — the laughter, the ara, the dances, the mountains, and the people — that make Merak what it is.
PC: Pema Sebastian
I came back from Eastern Bhutan with hundreds of photos, tired eyes, and a heart that somehow felt fuller.
But more than anything, I came back with a new understanding of my own country — how vast it feels, how layered its stories are, and how there are still parts of Bhutan quietly waiting for us to truly see them.
This journey made me realize that sometimes we do not need to leave the country to discover something new. Sometimes, we simply need to travel a little further within our own home.
And for that, I am deeply grateful to the Department of Tourism for making this journey possible and for giving me the chance to rediscover my own country in such a beautiful way.
