I’m about as far as I’ve ever been, between the horizontal distance over the earth’s surface and the vertical 3700 metres upwards, from the sea. But the ceaseless flap and snap of prayer flags everywhere in this little town is like the sound of sails. The prayer wheels spin like unpinned compasses. The wind roars over the heaving swell and billow of endless grassland. At night I feel as if I’m adrift, far out, marooned in a deep dark ocean.