On the outskirts of Gilgit, I pause to admire Rakaposhi and cue up my playlist. Mission of Burma has been my jam recently, so I thumb through albums and put onPeking Springfor the forty kilometer ride to Jaglot.
The neon sign outside Conrad's Hotel had been flickering erratically every night since Sophia moved in, but tonight, a part of it seems to finally have given up, so the second half of the owners name is completely missing. Con Hotel. Not a bad description of the place. As she leaves,...