Riding at this time of year is usually challenging enough, but the recent cold snap has surely tested even the most determined cyclists. Many, myself included, will have had to resort to dusting down the turbo trainer, an unloved instrument of torture, just to get a regular dose of cycling on some of the more severly affected days.

But I couldn’t take it any more. A couple of sessions and it’s not long before cabin fever sets in. There’s nothing for it but to wrap up in plenty of layers of clothing and head outdoors and just brave the conditions. With the right clothing, and we’re spoilt for choice today, the cold isn’t actually a problem. No, it’s the ice that is the enemy. With the television showing repeated weather warnings, I decided to forgo my usual choice of heading into the idyllic country lanes of Kent or Surrey, where the smaller lanes are highly likely to be iced over, and opted instead for Richmond Park, a mecca for London-based cyclists, .

The main roads safely gritted as I skirted around South London and through the tall gates into the park. On paper the perimeter round around the park doesn’t look much of interest, but the 10km undulating ribbon of Tarmac offers an ideal haven for cycling. Most importanly however, today the surface is well gritted. There aren’t many other cyclists out, but this makes it all the more rewarding.

I keep the pace steady. My frozen breath escapes quickly from my mouth and disappears over my shoulder. It’s eerily quiet today, the sun bright glistening off icy puddles. The sky is awash with colour and shade, clouds streaking across the sky, painting a majestic landscape. The blanket whiteness is an inspiring sight. I stop to take a few pictures. A few bites of an energy bar, and then I slip out of the park having completed several laps, and head home for hot chocolate and cake.

A short ride it may have been but the most satisfying and blissful in a long time.