Me Voy Por Ahi Que cooomo?!

Bangkok was an assault to the senses.  Loud, the streets full of people, the sidewalks full of vendors, trinkets everywhere, the sweet smell of food intermingling with the smell of sweaty people making a tough living. Bhutan is the opposite.  The entrance into this Kingdom is magnificent.  The runway is flanked by high mountains, and the Himalayas are just behind them.  The buildings are under five stories and in the traditional Bhutanese architecture. The men and women wear the traditional robes. The ride from Paro to Timphu, which took a bit over an hour, was spectacular.  Rocky cliffs with a house or temple perched here and there, farms surrounded by rice patties, and the beautiful shiny river underneath.  I'm still suffering from pretty bad jet lag and the sick drunk-like feeling comes in waves.  I took a bit of a nap and a lunch of red rice with chicken, which felt really good.  My guide, Thunder, is very nice, polite, and big time flirt.  Our driver, Jango, is very young and doesn't speak English, but is always in a good mood.  This is going to be fun.  We visited a stuppa, an old farm house turned into a museum, and an exhibit of bhuddist art from as far back as the 10th century.  But now it's 4:30pm and my biological clock says it's 4:30am, so I'm struggling. Good night, everyone, I'll try to check in tomorrow.