The bedraggled travellers who turn Leh into a cosmopolitan nightmare in summer have taken their Lonely Planet identikit fun catalogues to Colva or Kovalam. Ladakhis devote their waking hours to festive activities, the rest to sleeping, staying warm and doing what comes naturally. Especially the latter I’m told, but I have only second-hand information. For married, fortysomethings like myself—local maidens not being an option—what better way to while away the idle months of winter than to watch the chhang fermenting merrily in the corner, occasionally dipping a mugful and sipping contemplatively. The fire flickers, conversation ebbs and flows naturally.