Elite Traveler January-February 2017

elite traveler JAN/FEB 2017 95

double bedrooms, Likhir the smallest with two. As befits a man who spends part of the year in his apartment in London’s fashionable South Kensington, the decor crosses rural simplicity with metropolitan chic. Walls are painted in subtle shades of mauve, jade and primrose, wooden furniture is locally made, natural wool textiles are grey and beige, bathrooms have slate showers, stand-alone basins and gleaming chrome taps. The plumbing works, the terrace opens up the view, the staff are impeccable. Close your eyes and think of Courchevel or Aspen. My flight from Delhi had swept low over snowy Himalayan crests to land at Leh’s basic military airport at crack of dawn, the designated hour for civilian flights. When the first planes arrived in 1949, following Indian independence, astonished locals rushed to the strip with bundles of alfalfa to feed the great beasts from the skies. In a land without roads, they’d never even seen a car but spontaneous hospitality ruled. Those planes signaled the arrival of the army on a mission to monitor partition between India and Pakistan, while keeping a watchful eye on neighboring China. Within two years, the Chinese closed the border. Generations of Indian fighter jets followed. Likewise the regiments with bellicose names – Fire and Fury Eagles, Fire Throwers, Double Fist Warriors – that still camp behind wire in the barracks on the highway into Leh. Once we’d negotiated the capital’s maze of guest houses, food stalls and vendors selling bright textiles, we drove north into harsh magnificence. Ladakh is roughly the size of Maine, but with a population of less than 300,000. The Indus and Zanskar Rivers are its arteries, their turbulent, silt-filled waters the life blood for the area's agriculture. The valley floors are 11,500ft above sea level, sandscapes stretching towards rings of dun mountains, some snow-capped in high summer. The Jammu and Kashmir region is predominantly Muslim, but Ladakh is 85 percent Buddhist, with temples to rival those in Tibet. Passing the confluence of the two great

Mike sits ramrod straight, legs neatly crossed on his yoga mat on a terrace overlooking the Indus River. My own pose is less accomplished, but my private instructor is faultlessly encouraging as I imitate his sun salutations to the best of my limited ability. Below us, the owner of the Nimmu House, a herbal medicine man, and his wife, feed three black cows and weed their vegetables in tidy irrigated fields. At high altitude, shortly after dawn, the air is crisp and cool. Stretched to the limit, I’ve earned the right to tuck into a lingering breakfast comprising mango, melon, granola, yogurt, nuts and jams. There’s also strong cafetière coffee and eggs on demand. There could be no more civilized way to start a glittering introduction to Ladakh. The former mountain kingdom, currently part of Jammu and Kashmir province in north-western India, has always attracted budget hikers. Now adventurous travelers can enjoy designer comfort in the wilderness in a range of Himalayan Village houses in the Shakti portfolio established by Jamshyd Sethna, a luxury travel specialist from Mumbai. His properties are designed for single group occupancy. In Ladakh, the River House, new in 2016, is the largest of seven with four

Clockwise from left Leh Palace, home of the king, as well as a museum and hotel combined Thiksey Monastery overlooking the Indus Valley Dancers in colorful masks at a religious festival Flags carry the prayers of the faithful on the wind