Taking the Skoda Yeti on an epic journey through Bhutan

Although Bhutan has similar issues on EV uptake to us in the UK, it’s coming from a very different standpoint. With a population of 750,000, there are no more than 50,000 vehicles on the road. An even more staggering figure came from a former tutor to the king, Englishman Michael Rutland, who said that when he arrived in 1971, there were only 47 vehicles in the entire country.

Nevertheless, it isn’t long before we hit the aforementioned stand-off on the so-called ‘death road’, as my passengers inform me that we’re inches from the edge of the cliff. Our saving grace is a friendly local in front of us, who has clearly marked us out as foreigners. He directs the oncoming trucks to the edge of the road, allowing us to squeeze through. Hallelujah. We plough on, never at more than 20mph; there’s too much dust, too many wheel-crunching potholes and that ever-present sheer drop just inches to our left.

Not long after arriving at our lunch stop, I find a lama (a monk of sorts) blessing our cars. There’s some surreal chanting and incense burning and then it’s over. I have no idea what just happened, but I’m certain our safety on the journey is guaranteed.

Later, as the night draws in, we hit a small town full of unlit streets. It makes for a stunningly starry sky, but trying to drive amid cows napping in the middle of the street while pedestrians walk along the side is tense, to say the least.

The next day, refreshed, we’re  back in our Yetis. I’m driving the Yeti Outdoor 4x4 in SE L trim, which is just under £25k in the UK, but this one is for the neighbouring Indian market and built in a plant in Aurangabad in central-west India. I was expecting a poor man’s version of the UK model, but the differences are indistinguishable. We even have leather seats.

As we climb higher, our guides have told us, the scenery becomes stunning, but I’m so blown away by the first day’s panoramas that it’s hard to believe it can be bettered. But they were right. As the air becomes thinner and we struggle to talk, let alone walk, the vistas become even more inspiring – and the roads become even more dicey.

The route to our highest point of 3530 metres is a new road, built two years ago. Visions of velvety-smooth asphalt are not to be. It is, at best, a track, and a rough, ropey one at that. Still, the locals must be pleased: it was a three-day walk before this road existed.

And so we arrive breathless at Marek village near Sakteng wildlife sanctuary, where the yetis supposedly live, and where there isn’t a single car. In fact, fewer than 30 tourists visit annually. We speak to locals about the real yeti, but most Bhutanese are non-committal, saying that beliefs don’t have to equate to ‘tangible’ things. There’s an evasive answer.

As suspected, you can’t rely on the yeti, but our Yeti is much more reliable. Honestly, I’d never have chosen a Yeti for an epic road trip, but it has been hard to fault. Its saving grace, alongside the four-wheel drive system, has been the Rough Road package, a £210 option, which includes underbody protective cladding. Numerous ‘ouch’ moments, as we hit the sharp edge of lethal rocks or deep ravines, have been negated and hill descent control has become my best friend.

Although the Yeti will never be a Land Rover, its four-wheel drive system, which uses a fifth-generation Haldex coupling, has surpassed expectations. Almost a third of UK owners opt for 4x4 in the Yeti, but I’m doubtful many get as much of a hammering as ours has. Deployed for at least three-quarters of the journey, it has managed every hairy situation thrown at it with grace and emerges from our treacherous drive unscathed. And I’m still amazed there have been no punctures.

After two days, I’d typically be reluctant to return to a car, but the Yeti is still growing on me. Although the interior is dated compared with its siblings, it’s comfy and well specced. My only complaints are the lack of a USB port – which isn’t the case with UK models – slightly upright back seats and a high biting point for the clutch, which every single driver struggled with on some of the tough terrain.