Lamayuru looks like the Moon with a monastery stuck on top, and that is not much of an exaggeration. The gompa perches on a ridge of eroded, pale clay and sandstone above a cluster of whitewashed houses, with a landscape of ridges, gullies and crumbling pinnacles falling away on either side. Local legend says the valley was once a lake, drained by a saint who opened a gap in the mountains so that people could settle, and geologists confirm that it really was a lake bed, now carved into the strange formations known as Moonland.
The monastery is among the oldest and most important in Ladakh, with roots said to reach back to the tenth or eleventh century and to the translator Rinchen Zangpo, though the buildings you see have been rebuilt many times. It belongs to the Drikung Kagyu school, and the main hall contains painted walls and statues. Monks are often seen on the roof, and a small guesthouse and a few cafés near the gate serve tea, noodles and thukpa. Each year, in summer, a masked dance festival draws crowds in from the surrounding villages.
On the road, you are well along the Srinagar-Leh highway, in a region where the highway curls between bare mountains and tight valleys. The riding is a joy: broad, easy bends climb to the Namika La and Fotu La passes, with good views, a decent surface and a fine feeling of space. The ground is dry and brittle, so rockfall is possible, and a sudden afternoon wind can throw sand across the tarmac. Overtaking army convoys and lorries needs care, since sight lines are short on some bends.
Services are limited; the village has simple guesthouses and homestays, but fuel is a matter for planning, with Kargil behind you and Leh ahead. At about 3,500 metres, the air is thin, so walk slowly and drink water. The light is best in the early morning and the late afternoon, when shadows deepen across the ridges and the monastery glows gold.