I would have never believed that I'd feel like this after two months on the road. Since we set out early this morning, I'm feeling this strange emptiness, this sadness that from tomorrow, there will be no place that we have to get to, no stories to discover, no urgency of an evening deadline and no new bed to sleep in.

I think it's the adrenaline that has been gushing through my bloodstream - I've become addicted to it and this morning, even though we are heading to one of the most crucial constituencies in the country, Pilibhit, I'm overwhelmed by dread at the emptiness I'll feel at 7.30 pm - the knowledge that the next hit is uncertain.

It's not that I have nothing waiting for me in Delhi. My family that has done without me so long, my job that gave me this amazing opportunity in the first place and proper food and sleep are all tempting but the truth is that I haven't missed any of these much. There simply wasn't enough time. Everyone thought (and I hoped) I'd lose weight because how could life on road sustain us properly. Nothing like that ever happened. We ate amazingly well - from the laal maas in Rajasthan to the wonderfully varied thaali in Gujarat, the pork roast in Daman and vindaloo in Goa, to the varieties of fish in Southern India, the prawns of Orissa, Kolkata's rolls, Littis in Patna and thandai and hummous in Benaras. I could go on and on but the icing in the hot weather came just from bonda sherbat - a mix of coconut cream and water. No, I didn't lose any weight.

I couldn't sleep last night thinking about my trip and the images, sounds and textures kept coming to me as flashbacks. The old woman wrapped in a DMK saree who couldn't understand what I said but held on to my hand, smiling; Bhuri from Shivgarh who wanted to come home with me and the poet Girda who bowled us over with his lines and touched my face before saying goodbye yesterday.

It's like I fell in love everyday in the last eight weeks. Now all of you know why I'm feeling the way that I am. I was never the love them and leave them kind.