ON HIGHER ground

On her maiden visit to Ladakh, pia sethi explores the vast and enchanting Changthang Plateau

- PIA SETHI

The EYE-PIERCING BRIGHTNESS OF Brobdingnagian expanses leaves deep imprints on my retina. I close my eyes for a brief moment and a whirl of colour, light and texture assails me. Grey mountains with deep veins of white snow throb above white sands punctuated by tussocks of green. A fleeting glimpse of a ribong hare freezes into a nondescript white rock, whilst kiang mirages shimmer indistinctly in the afternoon haze.

Miles of kaleidoscopic mountains rush by; red mushrooms sprouting on a cliff face, giant snow leopard paws benevolently blessing those who pass, deep flutes of brown engraved in rock. Colossal, leathery, monitor lizard cushions on the horizon give way to Google Earth 3D images of deltas snaking upwards through the clouds. Lulled into a gentle complacency by watercolour swirls of green and mauve, I am roused by gashes of orange and red that slash open the innards of the mountains. I feel as if I am in a LSD-induced trance. But no, this is real. This is Ladakh.

For years, I imagined a trip to Ladakh, but the expense was daunting and so the idea was perpetually shelved. Then in the summer of 2019, a chance opportunity to understand how nature-based ecotourism could be fostered in various Himalayan landscapes, dropped into my lap. Dispatching younger teammates across other well-trodden parts of the country, I selfishly reserved the ‘land of the high passes’ for myself, and my sharp-eyed colleague, Yatish.