Bob Drury continues his search for paragliding nirvana in the Indian Himalayas

As 7,000 metres lights up on my altimeter, my climb rate gets even stronger and my wing starts tugging at my hands like an angry dog on a lead. My heart’s already trying to pound its way out of my chest, my head’s spinning like I’m drunk, my nostrils are blocked with ice, and my body’s starting to shake violently with the cold. Welcome back to Zanskar! I’m sure I swore I’d never come here again