Nanda Devi once laid claim to be the highest mountain in the world. Over time the title was whittled down, but it remains India's highest peak. But, Indian school children, and quiz competitors aside, who really has heard of Nanda Devi? The mountain does not have the evil reputation of K2, but it was the scene of one of the most poignant deaths in the Himalayas. Nor does not have the fame and cachet of Everest. But on the other hand it's not a place where herds of climber-tourists wend (either pushed or pulled) their way past dozens of frozen bodies on their way to an essentially meaningless achievement. In fact Nanda Devi has scarcely any climbers at all. The approaches to the mountain have been closed off for many years by the Indian Government who seem content to leave things that way.

Hugh Thomas was a member of a expedition given permission to travel to the foot of Nanda Devi in 2000. It should be said that Thomson is not a climber, and this is not a story about a climb, but rather about the mountain and the isolated valley that lies at the feet of Nanda Devi. This valley, the 'sanctuary' of the title of the book, curves around two thirds of the base of Nanda Devi, and is - in turn - surrounded by a ring of mountains. This circle of mountains is impenetrable except for one point, where one of the head-waters of the Ganges breaks through and has carved a fantastically deep and steep sided gorge.

The difficulty of traveling up this gorge is as much responsible for the isolation of Nanda Devi as the jaundiced attitude of the Indian Government. Travel back in time to the Cold War. In 1967 a US climbing expedition under the cover of a simple assault on the peak, attempted to plant a nuclear powered spying device on top of the mountain looking down into China in the distance. This device, and its core of plutonium, was abandoned high on the mountain and subsequently swept away by an avalanche, buried and lost to this day. The Americans tried again and succeeded in putting a similar device on the peak of one of the surrounding ring of mountains. But things didn't go according to plan. The heat of the nuclear engine melted the ice that it stood upon and the whole affair sank below the surface like a slowly descending elevator. This device was eventually recovered and removed.

The Indian Government was lambasted when the details of the affair leaked out. That Nanda Devi is a mountain sacred to Hindus added to the outrage. One would like to think that the subsequent restriction on access to the area was brought about by a desire to protect the sanctity of the mountain and the surrounding valley, rather than by an apprehension about the where that plutonium fuel from the first device ended up. But in the end the result is that Nanda Devi is a rarity among the giant Himalayan peaks, undisturbed, sacred and mysterious.

In some ways Thomson is a rarity, and an odd-man-out among the team who made the journey. Although no stranger to the Himalayas, his normal stomping ground is Peru ('Cochineal Red' and 'The White Rock') and he is - as someone else observed - 'a writer who explores, rather than an explorer who writes'. Thomson is a great weaver of stories and imagery, drawing together the past and present, and the mundane and the spiritual in a book that satisfies rather than excites. Readers more used to (or indeed looking for) tales of death and terror on high peaks won't find that here. The tone is essentially reflective, almost contemplative, in tune with the mountain and its isolated valley. Thomson writes for those who already climbed - in their minds - the Himalayan peaks, and who have heard whispers of Nanda Devi's mystery and aching tragedy. In that sense this book is not only highly recommended, but in fact essential reading. ( )

a little known fact about the nanda devi sanctuary.. it's quite an eye-opener. ( )