The Kingdom of Bhutan, wedged precariously between the giants of India and China, like the shy kid in class is a Himalayan jewelbox, tiny in geography but mighty in mystique.
Affectionately (and accurately) branded the “Land of the Thunder Dragon,” it’s a nation that measures success not by GDP, but by GNH (Gross National Happiness) a concept that leaves economists scratching their heads and backpackers swooning.
Imagine UK prime minister in Parliament and saying, “Mate, bugger the economy, how’s everyone feeling today?”
From the sheer cliffs of Paro to the cloistered valleys of Punakha, Bhutan is a tapestry of prayer flags, yak butter lamps, and monasteries clinging to rock faces with a defiance that rivals any DXer’s antenna mast in a cyclone.
Here, crimson-robed monks debate philosophy as passionately as Rugby fans argue the ref’s call, while blue sheep, takin, and snow leopards roam the high ridges like they own the place (because they actually do).
Yet, beneath this utopian sheen, this Most Wanted DXCC is no Disney set.
It’s a land navigating the tightrope of tradition and modernity, where archery is the national obsession, chilies count as a vegetable. Internet cafes pop up next to centuries-old dzongs, and while the King tweets, villagers still spin prayer wheels for Wi-Fi-strength blessings.
As a DXCC entity, Bhutan is rarer than a Kiwi finding decent fish and chips in America.
The licensing process is easier than assembling a Skyper in the dark, and resident ops are as scarce as snowmen in Paris. Only a couple of DX-pedition style activities in the past 2 decades have lit up the 11m band with 202 prefixes. In the 1980s, a small trickle of ham activity fluttered across the ether, mostly missionaries and government staff with limited rigs.
Then in 2012 onwards “Zorro” Miyazawa (JH1AJT) (See above) almost single-handedly revived amateur radio in Bhutan. Operating under A5A and other callsigns, he ran multiple DXpeditions and logged thousands of QSOs, putting the tiny Himalayan kingdom back on the radio map.
The rise of mobile networks and the slow seep of Netflix into the valleys contributed to hams evaporating like mist over the Dochula Pass.
So, when Giovanni landed in Paro International, the only international airport in the world where pilots must be certified mountaineers, this marked another rare event in Freeband history. His destination? Ten days in a difficult, exotic, and DX-thirsty location.
Unlike past ventures by the beach on paradisiac islands, this expedition had promise, September’s HF friendly conditions, and the irresistible pull of logging Bhutan into station logs worldwide.
For many DX hunters, 202 in the log would be like finally spotting an Italian driving in Rome who actually uses their indicator.
From the moment the seatbelt sign flicked off in Paro, the adventure began, not just cultural immersion in Himalayan splendor, but a radio story scripted on the edge of the world…
Day 1, August 31 – Arrival in the Land of the Thunder Dragon
Flying into Paro is an adventure in itself…
The descent cuts sharply between jagged Himalayan ridges, the plane weaving like a hawk through narrow valleys before dropping onto the runway, the only international airport in Bhutan.
I was told by the locals that there another been built as the current one does not meet international standard, no wonder the only airline to fly in is Druck air and Bhutan Airline.
Both proudly national!
By 5pm I’m finally at my accommodation, welcomed warmly and keen to get things rolling.
I scout the area surrounding the 1 store “guesthouse” for the antenna spot, only for the skies to open up.
Heavy rain. Typical.
So instead of raising the Skypper, I muck about inside with cables and gear, basically turning the guesthouse room into something between a shack and a spaghetti factory.
At 6pm the rain eases, and I cable tie the Skypper into place.
Dash back inside, dripping like a drowned rat, and the rig fires up beautifully.
Straight away, the 11m magic band is alive!
First QSO 161DA015 Janusz. Followed by 1AT090 Ivan. Then, just when the EU wall is getting ridiculous, Brazil smashes through with 3DA010 and 3AT027.
South America slipping in the back door. Bloody brilliant mate.
Within just over an hour, a couple hundred are in the log, all the big guns done and dusted.
Dinner is rice, ema datshi (Bhutan’s infamous chili-and cheese flamethrower), and butter tea.
I fall asleep to monks chanting down the valley and the faint ring of pile-ups in my head, only to be woken at 2am by the local dog mafia staging UFC in the courtyard.
I check for long path to NA, dead as New Year’s resolutions in February.
Day 2 – First Signals Over the Himalayas
The morning is a cruisy one, while doing some remote work on the computer I keep tuning the antenna between NA and Asia Oceania with auto call on, and plenty of “is this thing on?” scanning.
Nothing much till mid-arvo. When the band does open, it’s carnage.
Pile ups from EU and Asia slam in hard, and the log fattens up half-price beers at happy hour.
By evening, 500+ QSOs are in the bag.
The rhythm of “QRZ… 202DA/0” becomes a chant, and the Himalayas throw my signal across the globe like they’ve been waiting for it.
By the end of the day, the logbook looks fantastic. Not bad for the second round in the mountains.
Day 3 – Into the Valleys
This one’s a sightseeing morning only.
The Skypper and rig stay exactly where they are, perched happily at the guesthouse, waiting for me.
I know now that the real action on 11m doesn’t spark until after 2pm, so I don’t rush.
Instead, I hit the road east into Punakha Valley, I do visit Bob (vital for survival) for the first time to make sure I am prepared, Dochula Pass.
At 3,100 meters, the air is sharp, the prayer flags endless, and the Himalayas play peek-a-boo through the clouds.
Punakha itself is stunning, lush fields, rivers like silver threads, and a dzong that looks like it’s been sketched out of a dream.
Only Few QSOs today, but plenty of memories, and probably the only day the mic didn’t leave a dent in my hand.
Day 4 – The Suspension Bridge & Dzong at Punakha
Back in Punakha proper, I take in the dzong, gold spires, chanting monks, butter lamps, the works.
Then it’s across the famous suspension bridge, which is basically a tightrope strung with prayer flags.
It sways like a fishing dinghy in a cyclone, but the view’s worth every wobbly step.
At the café I grab an ice cream, coconut flavour. Me, thinking of Rarotonga’s creamy goodness. Instead, it’s faker than my promise to “just have one beer.” or a recent DX-pedition to Glorioso island.
I take the chance to snap a few proud photos with the DA-RC flag. Later, I’m back at the rig.
The band’s a bit sulky, signals fading like dodgy mobile coverage in the bush.
Still, I scratch out enough QSOs to keep the log respectable.
Bhutan isn’t meant to be easy DX. If you already made it you tried hard and put the hours as a true DX-man.
Day 5 – The Ascent to Tiger’s Nest
Tiger’s Nest day. The climb is a lung buster, steep, thin air, sweat pouring off me, and horses prancing past like they’re laughing. But the payoff? That monastery clinging to the cliff is jaw-dropping.
Inside, incense curls and monks chant.
Outside, the valley spreads like a painting.
No photo ever does it justice and photos not allowed inside.
This is the day I met Tashi, curious, bright, instantly hooked on ham radio, turns out his uncle works with A5B Prince Dasho Jigyel (See below).
Classic Bhutan: population under 800k, everyone’s two handshakes away from royalty.
Back at the shack that evening, the freeband is open.
EU comes in clean, pile-ups stack up, and I’m running one by one with the serene Bhutanese tranquility upon me until blind callers and sofa-kings on cluster whining about everything put a dampener on the situation.
From a cliffside monastery to a Himalayan pile-up, it’s a fair old contrast!
Day 6 – Gifts, Post Office Yarns & Coffee at Dochula
Today’s mission: shopping in Thimphu.
Gotta be honest, I’m missing the wife and kids something fierce. Left them back in NZ with two cows, six chickens, dogs, school runs and the joys of high winds smashing my 6-element beam at home.
She’ll be right, but in the back of my mind, I catch myself wondering if the P.O. Box is hiding a QSL ellusive card confirmation from 3D2CCC. Or maybe even 70DA/0 that was removed from the log for blind calling, why can’t all QSL managers be like Paride 004?
Instant reward, just how it should be.
Anyway, in town I hunt for gifts, scarves, prayer beads, trinkets, hat, flag the lot.
Then it’s off to the Central Post Office, where they actually print personalized stamps. Too good not to. I’ll be slapping those on postcards, being a royal service Expect to be a speedy delivery.
Later in the day, I crest Dochula Pass again, skies crystal clears this time. Coffee in hand, watching the Himalayas stretch forever—pure magic. Back at the rig that evening at 5pm, the band pays me back a few South America and some Canary Island. The log slowly.
Day 7 – Wandering Paro & a Haircut
I take a long riverside walk into Paro. Rice fields, water-driven prayer wheels, and the valley carved like a postcard.
In town, I duck into a barbershop. The barber speaks little English, but scissors speak universal.
Half an hour later, I am told that the first day with their door open and they were not charging, upon insisting they accept $500NuI, I walk out trimmed and lighter—probably still looking like a mug, but at least a tidy one.
Fun fact: nobody waves here. No “g’day,” no nod, no smile No kia orana like the Cook island, Bula in Fiji or ‘’give your wallet’’ in Brazil. Just walk on past. Not rude—just Bhutan being Bhutan. But for a Kiwi used to small-town no “gidday mate” greetings, it’s a weird one.
That evening, the band opens late but steady. A modest log session, but enough to keep things ticking.
Day 8 – Sunday Markets
Sunday market in Thimphu is full throttle—chilies, yak cheese, incense, bargaining so sharp it could cut steel. Feels like stepping back in time.
By 2pm, I’m back at the rig, waiting for the magic to kick in.
By nightfall, it does—11m goes nuclear. pile-ups three deep, all hammering through. I ride it past 8pm, logging as many as possible as we don’t know what the next days brings hitting just over 1100 in the log.
The shack hums like a generator, the Himalayas bouncing my voice around the globe, and yet no signs one or any station from North America in the log, I guess they had it too easy with 249 not long ago.
Bhutan isn’t meant to be easy DX.
Day 9 – Things Slow Down
The valley in stillness, I walk into the pine hills above Paro, where prayer flags crack like whips in the wind.
A monastery sits tucked away, young monks in maroon robes playing soccer, slipping in the dust, shouting with joy. Universal stuff.
Back at the rig, the band sucks. Just a trickle of contacts on 11m. 6 or 7 ITL.
No dramas, I’m signing off for the day at 8:30pm. If I ain’t got much in the log by now, I just ain’t gonna get it.
Netflix time? Drink beer instead or maybe it’s nice to let the silence in for once.
Day 10 – Closing the Log
The last day arrives too soon. I’m up at dawn, having my last breakfast at this majestic place, well served by the way, today is the day to squeeze the lemon dry.
At 10am I quick 15 minutes trip to central Paro, for last minutes shopping and last time I visit Bob, (yes Bank Of Bhutan again, ATM love). Most transactions here are cash only.
One last lunch and this time I try Trout Tshoem.
I do a Final catch up with Tashi who handed in in his Ham application the day before. This is very promising. I hope it works out for the good of the ham community.
By 2pm I am back in the shack the freeband is a struggle, a few more ITL.
Every QSO feels like a gift.
By 8pm, I shut it all down. Have my last dinner.
The Skypper comes down, prayer flags flap a quiet farewell, and the courtyard feels empty, multitasking while I skol the last Druk blues.
Day 11 – Flight back at 7am from Paro
By 5am I am ready for ride to the airport, one last look around and that same thoughts that comes to mind when leaving a DX destination, I will come back soon or later.
At the airport I am tempted for an upgrade to Fly business class, at the end of the day I made so much money from the sofa kings that I can spoil myself.
It’s a long flight, 2 hours stop in the North of India Guwahati and then off again to Singapore stopover of 7 hours and into NZ for another hour drive before I hit home.
Antenna at home probably in splinters from another storm, but hey—that’s DX life.
Reflections & Thanks
Operating as 202DA/0 from Bhutan was as much a personal journey as a DX one. The propagation was moody, the pile-ups savage, the noise cheeky. But every QSO reminded me why 11m still carries that “magic band” mystique.
Outside the log, Bhutan was unforgettable: Tiger’s Nest clinging to the cliff, coffee at Dochula with skies crystal clear, printing personalized stamps in Thimphu, and a haircut in Paro.
And of course, good ol’ Bob (Bank of Bhutan) keeping the wallet alive.
The numbers? Just over 1,100 QSOs, countless ATNOs, and plenty of thanks rolling in.
Now it’s Steph 001’s turn to outdo himself with another legendary triple-QSL design.
Dear Giovanni !
Thanks for another hot activation you did for us on 11M. So happy getting in your log as 202 Division not that vy often active anymore on 11M.
Keep on that very good spirit – just awesome, you DA RC guys doing activations.
73
Chris#35SR159