I was excited about flying into Bhutan.  I had read reports of tipping wings to avoid the mountains.  However I was so absorbed in looking down onto the patchwork of cultivated fields and pagoda-designed wooden houses that the plane had landed and I was in the Himalayan Kingdom of Bhutan.  The two things that struck me most were that the men wear national costume consisting of a knee length wrap-over robe worn with socks and shoes and there are penises painted in elaborate detail on the walls of houses.  Once I had got over that, I was ready to explore the rest of Bhutanese culture.  I visited beautifully painted and carved Buddhist monasteries and zhongs; experienced the annual Black Necked Crane Festival; watched the aforesaid cranes landing on marshland after an epic flight over the highest mountain range in the world; climbed up to the famous Tiger’s Nest and had a rest halfway with an indifferent cat.