Stepping out of the arrivals gate at Delhi’s Indira Gandhi International Airport lulls you into a false sense of security. Costa coffee greets you immediately and you think ‘ooooh not so different from home’. Then it hits you. The automatic doors open for a few seconds to let someone in or out and you can hear the cacophony that is the soundtrack of India.

I know I’m going to irritate people on this trip (can’t help the ‘when I was here before’ statement tripping out of my mouth), and I also know I might be irritated by people who have come here to cycle without really thinking what it might be like.

Just like last time (because obviously I’ve been here before…), a little frisson of excitement runs through me as I revel in the very difference of the place – despite the aroma of freshly brewed Costa trying to fool me into thinking otherwise.

As we journey to the hotel, I can see some of our group are hating it already. India is not for everyone. I’m secretly loving the traffic, the noise, the sights, sounds and smells. For now though, it’s sightseeing time as there are a few hours to spare before dinner and we leave Delhi in the morning.

Some swift negotiation sees two taxis hired for 7 of us and we head for India Gate and the Red Fort. A hairs whisker of a near miss with a bus has some of the group in the other taxi wanting to quit by the time we reach the Fort. They head back to the hotel after a walk around the outside of the Fort and the remaining three of us venture in (‘have I told you I’ve been here before?’).

Finally, FINALLY, I feel the trip has begun when I’m reunited with my old friend Kingfisher (‘have I told you I’ve drunk this before?’) and dinner in the hotel is a curry.

It actually feels great to be back.