ABOUT 20 years ago I went to Bhutan to visit an architect friend who was working there. It was quite the most extra­ordinary trip; as close as I’ll ever get to the society of the early modern period here. This was, I may say, before the place opened up to tourists. I visited a mountain farm where the family had never seen Europeans nor anyone in modern dress and where the girls couldn’t stop tittering at the sight of us and where I sat on a snow leopard rug by a glassless window to drink (revolting) yak butter tea.