It no longer feels unusual to travel to the DPRK, or North Korea as it is better known, but it was utterly unexpected to be greeted by an official who asked with impeccable pronunciation: “How is the Tory leadership contest going? David Davis, David Cameron . . .?” Are these signs that North Korea is opening up for dialogue? Last month headlines announced success at the latest round of six-party talks. Concerted pressure from the US and China had resulted in a joint statement in which North Korea committed itself to “abandoning all nuclear weapons . . . and returning at an early date to the treaty on non- proliferation”.

The world was delighted, at least until the next day when North Korea came out with its unique reinterpretation, saying: “The DPRK will never retreat an inch from its military-first policy.”

I read this news in the Pyongyang Times as, accompanying a British parliamentary delegation, we flew in from Beijing. Our purpose was to build on relationships established in previous visits, and to find new ways to engage the military in productive talks.

The delegation was led by General Lord Guthrie, former chief of the defence staff under John Major and Tony Blair. I was present for continuity, having visited North Korea previously, including in 2003 with Baroness Cox and Lord Alton.

As on that earlier visit our week began with a tour of standard tourist sites, which gave government officials a chance to expound on the regime’s propaganda: the Arch of Triumph — modelled on Paris’s Arc de Triomphe, but bigger, and the Tower of Juche Idea — modelled on the Washington Monument, but taller.

On top of the tower was a grubby 60ft-high rendering of a red flame from where our delegation was surprised to spot three huge missiles. Rather than hardware though, these missiles comprised ranks of Korean citizens marching in formation through Kim Il-sung Square. They were rehearsing for the October 10 parade to mark the 60th anniversary of the Korean Workers’ party. Every day we saw thousands of citizens practising their moves for this spectacle. They rehearsed in the mornings, in the afternoons, in the sun, in the rain and at night under floodlights.

In some undemocratic countries, Burma for example, there is a palpable sense of fear among the population. But in Kim Jong-il’s North Korea the impression one gets is of exhaustion. Even the adolescents practising their dance routines did so with strain on their faces. People are left with little energy for themselves or their families.

We visited a military academy for orphans. The classrooms were some of the best-equipped in the country, yet the living conditions would challenge a Spartan: 15 to a bed and no personal possessions beyond a toothbrush. At first we were not permitted to see any of the cadets. “Are they secret?” asked General Guthrie. “Yes,” came the reply. When we did see some cadets, they looked healthy enough.

The closest we got to a full military unit was watching 2,000 soldiers executing a taekwondo demonstration at the Arirang festival in the May Day stadium. Their display was energetic and aggressive, bayoneted rifles lunged, twisted and choreographed perfectly. Hardly a foot fell out of line. Guthrie confessed it was the most outstanding drill he had ever seen.

In fact the whole performance was breathtaking: 100,000 performers in all, outnumbering the spectators, making such a show economically unviable anywhere else in the world. But despite the extraordinary display of skill, one was left with a nasty taste of unease having just watched bands of goose-stepping children.

Increasing numbers of tourists are reporting that Pyongyang is an amazing place now — clean, well ordered and its people content. I found a chance to chat with some male performers in their twenties. They were cheerful and friendly, but when a criticism of North Korea was put to them, their demeanour changed drastically. Smiles vanished and the men turned away in silence and fear. This is the reality of North Korea.

Their lack of engagement was equalled by the lack of substance at more formal meetings. At the demilitarised zone our escort was Lieutenant-Colonel Kang. Though personable, even likable, his job requires him to weary us with a twisted history of the Korean war, absurdly asserting that it was begun by South Korea and America.

When we met with the vice-foreign minister he trotted out a similarly warped history. His argument on denuclearisation boiled down to saying North Korea could not abandon its nuclear weapons programme because America started the Korean war.