It was eleven days ago already that I was making the 30+ hour journey home which included a four hour layover in Taipei and an unexpected two hour layover in Los Angeles after my direct flight to NY was cancelled. I was ready and anxious to board the plane in Bangkok, awake most of the time thanks to the man next to me who fidgeted and farted from Taipei to LA. The California coastline from the plane window never looked so good.

That time has come for all good travelers to go home. And this good traveler is going home happily and eagerly. Right about the time when I was retching into the hospital garbage can in Bhutan, I was ready to wrap up my trip. Ten days later, that's exactly what I'm doing.

I planned for my first impression of Bhutan when I stepped off the plane to be one of wonder and awe. From the breathy, reverent utterance of the word "Bhutan" I had heard from other travelers to the country, I imagined that even the sparkle of the tarmac would sweep me off my feet and that I couldn't help but be enchanted from the first second to the last. My knees decided a different fate.