Cold, smooth, creamy liquid pours down my throat rapidly before coming to an abrupt ending with a bitter finish on my tongue. It’s my first pint of Guinness in over four months. I’ve been away travelling, and one of my first ports of call upon returning is the pub.

As most people probably do, we always ensure we check reviews before we book to stay somewhere. A bit of due diligence before parting with hundreds of pounds is surely a reasonable thing to do? 

My legs tighten. One last push. Over another bump in the gravel and the climb finally gives way, opening out into a plateau. A stretch of green rice fields ahead, the sun catching on the flooded plains. Zebra doves make their mechanical whirring sound overhead as a worker in a conical hat walks past.

After enough time on the road, travel stops being about places and starts becoming about perception. Not what you see, but how it quietly rewires what you thought you knew.