Large droplets cascade to the ground, each joining the next to create rivulets, streams and rivers which quickly fill the gutters, alleyways and streets. I gather my courage (and rain jacket) and run in the rising water towards the bus which is waiting 100 m away, on arrival everything which was left exposed is totally soaked as water buckets from the sky. Water laps around my ankles as I frantically try to squeeze the 3 bikes into the cramped luggage compartment on the bus. As we pull away, the rain continues and the water rises, motorbikes are the first victims, scattered on the sides of the roads as their owners try to find home on foot. Cars are next as water reaches the top of their wheels slowing traffic to a painful crawl. My eyes become heavy despite the mayhem, I drift off only to be woken by the constant left, right, left motion of the bus, I smile knowing that we have finally reached the base of the mighty Himalayas, rising 8000 m above. The 40 degree humidity of Delhi feels like a dream as lofty clouds shroud beautiful dense forests and the cool air is filled with the fresh smell of rain. We find suitable accommodation and head into town to plan what will certainly be some of the most spectacular cycling of the trip.