 Yes, that's Leigh for you. A mind-blowing array of sights, sounds and smells. Ayurvedic massages from Kerala. Rajasthani puppets. Ganesha serenely meditating alongside Tibetan masks and Nuttarajas. Leigh seems like a spiritual, cultural, aesthetic smug-assboard. But this awesome amalgamation, by the way, is nothing recent. For all its seeming inaccessibility through the centuries, Leigh has been at the centre of a complex network of trade routes. From Punjab to Central Asia, caravans, carrying spices, tea and such other exotics took roughly two months to reach, travelling on these craggy mountainous roads. Buddhism also travelled the same way as did Islam. The rarefied air here, it would seem, has been perfect for a blending of influences. Making Leigh a half-way house for the world for centuries. In the labyrinth streets of its traditional bazaars, internet cafes rub shoulders with traditional crafts. Even as women from nearby villages serve fresh vegetables and fruits all in a row. While constantly spinning Pashmina yarn with their hands, as they have since eons. Except, then the vegetables now reflect Trost's national taste. Leigh truly is as cosmopolitan as it can get. A place where people from everywhere feel at home and welcome. Perhaps nowhere else in the world will one find a sick gentleman, run a German bakery, bake the most incredible Pumpernickel, which is consumed by a dedicated clientele of expat Israelis. Even though Ladakh in general, and Leigh in particular, defeat all metaphors, as members of the Ladakh theatre organisation Leigh rehearsed for an adapted Shakespeare play at the Shanti Stupa one evening, all barriers of language, culture, civilisation disappeared. As the universality of human emotions took centre stage, the result was magic. Share magic.