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We had nevertheless not located a hotel. Guess who helped? The targeted traffic cop. He left his spot and spoke to a couple of hotel owners to obtain a spot for us. Who does that? I imply, truly, who does that?

Anyway, we ended up going to a unique hotel – Hotel Druk. All this even though, we had left our bikes unattended with our luggage on them. And there was by no means a moment when we have been scared of losing our stuff. And I consider that is mention-worthy also. Bhutan feels secure and welcoming.

In the evening, we roamed the streets and located a dance bar referred to as Sonam Trophel. Dance bars are a widespread sight in Bhutan. And lot of them are run by girls.

Sidenote three : This is exactly where I ought to point out that Bhutan is mostly a matriarchal society. Most shops, restaurants, hotels, bars that we came across have been run by girls.

At the bar, we had a couple of beers and consistently refused to entertain the girls who solicited our revenue in exchange for a dance. After these shenanigans, we came out, drank and chatted with the funniest locals. 

Sidenote four : Let me add a single issue which would make the rest of this travelogue effortless. Anytime I say ‘locals’, usually add the adjectives funny, friendly, chatty, and beneficial to it. 

It was raining and we have been hungry. So, we ran in the rain to obtain a spot to consume. Unsuccessful, we returned to our hotel. And that is when a thing great occurred.

Attractive Story 1
A single of us was incredibly hungry. Extremely, incredibly hungry. So, like a undesirable-ass, he knocked on the subsequent door and asked for a thing to consume. Something. A biscuit, even. The man named Jimmy, who was a regional (did you add the adjectives?) understood the gravity of the circumstance. He asked us to wait for a bit. A tiny later, we looked outdoors from our windows and saw a lady on the street walking towards our hotel beneath the shelter of an umbrella. It looked like she was carrying a thing beneath her arm. This was previous midnight.

Her name was Kay and she was Jimmy’s pal. She had brought with her packets of Koka, Bhutanese version of Maggi but a great deal far better. The man had a stove and they freaking cooked for us. We spent the evening hanging out with each other. And there we sat, consuming Koka, sharing Old Monk with them (which they liked incredibly a great deal, who does not?), and appreciating the kindness of this country’s gorgeous persons.

Subsequent morning, we checked out of the hotel to get permits for our bikes. Meanwhile, some of us got regional SIM cards and purchased some stuff for the rest of the trip (Druk beer, Druk ketchup, Druk chips, Druk anything).