The three-pronged Nubra valley divides the Ladakh and Karakoram ranges, the Shyok and Nubra rivers meeting at its centre before flowing on together to meet the mighty Indus. After the bleak, denuded slopes of much of Ladakh, Nubra is startlingly verdant. Its rivers provide fertile land for terraces of wheat, barley, mustard, peas – and groves of blood apple, walnut, apricot and almond. In fact, its Tibetan name, Dumra, means ‘Valley of Flowers’.

At Hunder, near the rivers’ confluence, lush terrain transforms into rolling sand dunes more Saharan than Himalayan, right down to the shaggy, two-humped camels plodding across it. As the backdrop to all this, craggy, snow-capped peaks glow orange as the light begins to die, casting their long shadows across the valley.

The landscapes are almost surreal in their loveliness, but they’re only part of the draw of Nubra. This far-northern part of India has provided a channel for Indian and Chinese merchants, nomadic herders, caravans from Central Asia, Buddhist monks from Tibet – all have shaped the culture of this isolated region.

There are Tibetan Buddhist monasteries, such as the dramatically-situated Diskit crowded along its rocky ridge, or red-and-gold Samstanling, where butter lamps flicker and the air is scented with wood smoke. At Panamik, hot springs bubble out of the ground and send sulphurous steam into the crisp alpine air, while at Ensa, Taksha or Charasa you might find old women carrying woven baskets of hand-picked greens, children playing in glacial streams, or a timeless monastery rarely visited by tourists.

Formerly, Nubra was the preserve of adventurous backpackers willing to rough it to enjoy its remote wonders. Now, it has a burgeoning eco-tourism scene, with some really beautiful lodges and strong ties to local communities.