SPEND any time with the artist and innkeeper Mark Thompson and you come away feeling you have been in the company of a man with a deeply intuitive sense of place and history.

Put simply, he just loves preserving the past. Aside from his drawings and paintings, which are as much records of Dales heritage as they are works of art, he has a passion for restoring traditional buildings.

This is currently finding expression at the historic Green Dragon Inn, Hardraw, home of England's highest single-drop waterfall, where Mr Thompson is turning back the clock to reflect the inn's former Georgian glory.

However, no amount of love for the past could have prepared him for the culture shock he was to experience while on the trip of a lifetime to India and the Himalayas.

It was in Nepal, one of the world's remotest regions, that the past came rather too close for comfort as Mr Thompson found himself witnessing at first hand a traumatised society being plunged back into the Middle Ages.

"I was so saddened by what I saw," he told me. "These beautiful, friendly people suffering so much because of the political turmoil in the country.

"They've been effectively cut off from the modern world and their economy is in ruins because very few tourists are visiting Nepal."

Mr Thompson was experiencing first hand the devastating effects of a seven-year-long terrorist campaign by Nepal's communist rebels, the Maoists, whose activities had cost hundreds of lives.

The rebels' actions became increasingly frenetic two years ago after the Nepalese royal family was almost wiped out, allegedly shot by the "deranged" crown prince.

The Maoists robbed banks, ambushed trekkers for cash, blew up bridges, cut off the electricity supplies, imposed daily dusk-to-dawn curfews, forced workers to strike and disrupted all but the most basic forms of transport, such as carts and bicycles.

More worryingly, the rebels kidnapped men and boys from remote villages to indoctrinate them into their revolutionary cause.

"I was disturbed to discover that everyone lives in fear of the Maoists, who control certain areas with an iron fist and condemn their own people to what is effectively a peasant existence," said Mr Thompson.

Ignoring Foreign Office warnings that there was an "increased risk" from such terrorism, he crossed the border from India to Nepal by rickshaw last November.

His first encounter seemed to set a precedent for what turned out to be a memorably bizarre, as well as deeply disturbing, experience.

"It was five o'clock in the evening and the border official had to be roused from his bed to check my documents," he recalled.

"The man stamped my passport wearing only his vest and underpants, while his wife and their son and daughter looked on. It was a strange introduction to Nepal to say the least."

Although he was prepared to travel alone in one of the remotest places on Earth, Mr Thompson had little idea as he crossed the border that he would be one of the few westerners to witness first hand the plight of the Nepalese.

For their part, the locals were delighted to see such a rare thing as a visitor. Unaware that the western area of Nepal was a notorious rebel stronghold, he travelled to the virtually deserted Bardia National Park, where he was told by one of the few staff remaining: "Curfew is at seven o'clock, and you must report to the police in the morning for your own safety."

After that comment, Mr Thompson was not surprised to find he was the park's sole foreign visitor - and only the 49th guest at the park's lodge in 11 months.

From Nepal, he travelled through the Himalayas to Tibet - a "mind-blowing experience" - only to encounter another people in crisis.

This time he was disturbed to see that the Tibetan way of life had been all but destroyed by the Chinese since invading in the Fifties.

"Their culture has been devastated and the population systematically suppressed," said Mr Thompson.

"They are a simple, sincere people who have a deep belief in Buddhism and a fierce loyalty to the exiled Dalai Lama.

"Most of their beautiful monasteries have been desecrated and one Buddhist monk told me how the Chinese tortured him.

"Yet they are sustained by their faith, which I think makes them a remarkable people."

The all-pervading nature of the occupation was brought worryingly home when Mark discovered he was being followed everywhere by the Chinese secret service.

The four-month adventure - such an experience surely couldn't be classed as tourism - began in October when, on the spur of the moment, he decided to fulfil a lifelong ambition to visit the magnificent palaces of Rajasthan in India. Nepal and Tibet soon became bolt-on destinations.

The aim was to travel, eat and sleep as much as possible like the indigenous people.

"I wanted to experience third-class living in the third world," said Mr Thompson. "Although I'd committed myself to a lot of work restoring and renovating the Green Dragon, I knew I had to get India out of my system.

"I'd always longed to go there from being a boy. I didn't plan in detail where exactly I was going or how I was going to live or travel around. I just wanted to do it."

He was sure about one thing - he would draw and paint aspects of Asia like he'd drawn and painted the Dales.

"The people, the daily scenes in the markets and around the villages, the awe-inspiring landscape and the spectacular sunsets - these are the images I wanted to capture," he said.

To aid artistic memory, he took more than 3,000 photographs and slides. He also kept a detailed diary and tape-recorded conversations, which he intends to feature in a planned autobiography.

"Achieving my ambition to travel in Asia might have ended a dream," added Mr Thompson, "but it's also started a love affair with Nepal and its people. I've made some really good friends there and certainly intend to return."