Grabbing a rickshaw we headed for our hostel which we had been in contact with over the internet only to be told there were no rooms. In order to appease us the manager fixed us up with a room at another hostel down the road, a room with little atmosphere.

We had agreed with the first hostel that they would settle the cost of the rickshaw but when at the second place we discovered the driver was waiting for payment from us, we took him back to the first hostel where we explained to the owner the situation. He very calmly said he would deal with it and, although I don't speak Hindi, he seemed to tell the rickshaw driver to "push off"!

He does not pay rickshaw drivers who turn into touts bringing in tourism; instead he relies on word of mouth. There is clearly some sort of war being waged between hotel owners - those who want people to come and stay because of a place's reputation and those who are happy to pay rickshaw drivers to trick tourists into coming.

We decided that although we weren't actually guests that first night we would have dinner in the rooftop restaurant but were immediately disappointed as no customer service was forthcoming. We sat and waited for someone to bring us a menu and when this was evidently not going to happen, we helped ourselves to the menus.

Having had time to look at the menu still nobody gave us any attention and after something like 20 minutes we voted with our feet, my wife who by now had been replaced by the Incredible Hulk telling them their customer service was very poor as we stormed downstairs!

One middle manager member of staff chased after us explaining that the staff were new and to accept his apologies. He also gave us a complementary bottle of water and rather bizarrely a dram of whiskey too.

After this the staff could not have been more attentive proving that although unthinkable to our British sensibilities causing a scene and complaining about poor service does sometimes reap its rewards.

Nowhere else was this more obvious than breakfast the following morning. We experienced a long power cut just before bed and, as the hotel had no backup generator, the room heated up very quickly not helped by the lack of window.

Checked out and gone before 10am we returned to hostel number one to discover nobody knew of us or our tribulations of the previous evening. After explaining the whole thing again, a room was organised for us but was not yet clean. We left our stuff and went to the rooftop restaurant for breakfast.

It was a hot night and carrying our stuff had made us even thirstier so we immediately ordered some water with our breakfast order. Despite repeated requests for the water we were still waiting for it 15 minutes or so later. Taking matters into our own hands we helped ourselves to the fridge disappointed with both service and lack of business acumen shown by the staff.

My disappointment increased when the food arrived as it was cold. I'm not normally a snobby person for things like this but I was just amazed they couldn't do anything right. The price we pay for returning somewhere we knew to have bad service (but naively thought had been a one-off), just because it was convenient!

After breakfast we had a warm shower for the first time in a week and headed out to explore Jodhpur. The narrow streets around where we live are still frenetic with hooting scooters and the odd cow where anything other than looking where you're going could spell disaster.

Five minutes' walk from the hotel the narrow streets give way to a clock tower surrounded by a triple gateway at the north and south end. The area surrounding the clock tower is buzzing with activity and is known as the Sadaar Bazaar.

Before we reached the bazaar though, we entered one of the many spice shops that line the roads leading to the clock tower. We had heard of a cooking course given here by the lady of the house and were keen to learn some basics of Indian cooking. We reached an agreement where we would come back later at 4pm to take part in a course and join another couple who were already signed up.

Walking around the bazaar there were many women sitting on the floor shielding themselves from the sun with umbrellas and with their goods displayed before them on a blanket laid out on the cobbled streets. These women sold saris, scarves and bangles in an array of glistening colour.

There was also the obligatory fruit and vegetables, fast food stalls, clothes and textiles, shoes and handbags and none of the stallholders was pushy.

Having had a good wander around we literally stumbled on a man selling scarves on the street. Taking an interest Kirsty was able to look with no chat or hassle and when she realised the price was only ₹50 (60p) each, there didn't seem any point in haggling.

Tired from the heat and a little thirsty we retreated to a rooftop café nearby and enjoyed a seat with a view and a relaxing drink.

Since our cooking course started later that same afternoon we decided to head back to the room to get ourselves set for the course. Trying to be clever and go back a different route we got lost in the maze of the old quarter with only signs in Hindi for company.

Before long we discovered we had walked round in a complete circle and were back at the clock tower. Sensibly deciding to go the way we know we made it back at the second attempt.

Our cooking course was absolutely amazing!! Turning up at 4pm we ended up being welcomed into the family home at the back of the shop and staying until after 10pm, leaving with our tummies stuffed and our faces smiling.

The course was run by a lady called Rekha who was ably assisted by her spice master husband Anil - well he turned up now and again when he wasn't busy earning a living with the spices - and their two daughters. Rekha was a wonderful teacher, a wonderful and generous human being who was very patient and we really enjoyed her company.

After Kirsty ran upstairs to help bring the family's washing in prior to a rainstorm we began the course with chai masala. Drinking what we prepared in the dryness of their living room we waited until the cooking area was completely waterproofed and the rain had stopped. In this break Rekha told us a little about the herbs and spices and what ailments they can be used for.

For the remainder of the afternoon we chopped, stirred and ate our way through the food as Rekha demystified the art of Indian cooking. We cooked biryani, dhal, raita, saffron lassi, naan, chapatti, paratha and paneer curry. It was amazing, the girls we took the course with were very easy going and Rekha and her family made us feel incredibly welcome and were extremely generous with both their time and their food.

Before we started the cooking Kirsty had spotted among all the photographs a Henna photo and had asked Rekha how much it would cost however Rekha told her that she didn't do this anymore. Once no more eating was possible Rekha announced that as we were all such nice people she would be happy to do some Henna as a gift to us. The other girls politely declined but Kirsty then sat for 30 minutes extra having some Henna applied until late into the night.

Completely stuffed we staggered back home beaming from ear to ear. Thank you so much to Claire and David for the wedding present!

Perhaps I had eaten too much (!) or maybe I was just acutely aware of the flying insects in the room but I struggled to sleep that night.

Once up we showered (our hot shower was no longer worthy of the adjective) and headed outside the hostel eager to avoid the breakfast fiasco from yesterday. It was already approaching midday as we had spent some time in the room uploading and sorting through photographs. We had a rooftop restaurant in mind the other side of the clock tower and noticed immediately that there were even more people about (if that's possible) and the temperature had climbed an extra notch or two higher.

At the restaurant we had some food while we enjoyed the view. I went for a thali, a kind of set meal at lunchtime made up of, in this case, paneer tikka masala, dhal, rice, raiti and Indian breads. I gobbled it all enjoying every mouthful having an even greater appreciation for the food after yesterday's course.

Our plan was to visit the fort today but a little later when the sun would be less intense so not sure what to do after brunch we returned home to catch up on stuff before being ready around 3.30 to walk up the hill to the fort.

Unfortunately it had just begun to drizzle which it did for some time seemingly neither deciding on full on rain nor to stop completely. Watching the locals and how they react is usually a good sign of whether or not rain is on its way but even they seemed unsure.

As time ticked towards four o'clock eventually the storm arrived and absolutely everything got wet! We were able to watch from the safety of the hostel but with the wind even we got a little wet.

After an hour and a half the rain finally began to subside and the power returned following a short power cut. The streets had turned to muddy streams and we left the fort for another day.

We went out later for some food at another rooftop restaurant where, for the first time, we enjoyed some local music, singing and dancing.

And a message for the group of French girls who we saw at the restaurant - short shorts and low tops is not suitable clothing for India. What were you thinking?? Show some respect for the culture and environment you are in, for goodness sake. Have you not read your Lonely Planet guide you clutch close to your near-naked bosom?!? Also ordering beer is not particularly respectful either - if you don't care and don't want to experience and respect an ounce of a local's way of life then why are you here??

Happy Birthday to Kirsty's mum Pat today, hope you had a great time however you spent the day. I know Kirsty missed you and was thinking about you more than usual on your special day today.

The following morning we eked out our time in the room, spending it relaxing before packing our bags and leaving them in storage when we checked out.

With our packs safely stowed we set off up towards the impressive Jodhpur Fort, known as Mehranguh Fort. To break up the steep ascent we brunched at a guesthouse restaurant with a great view back down the hill to the town below.

Completing the climb up the cobbled path we paid our entrance fee and started our exploration of the fort.

It appeared the climbing wasn't quite over and we were surprised how steep the walkways were inside the fort. The day was extremely sunny and this combined with the exerted walking made for a very sweaty and dehydrating experience.

There were many locals visiting and the women and some men delighted in posing for photographs from tourists, making for a really friendly atmosphere.

We visited the museum which had many interesting displays such as the elephant howdahs and royal cots together with beautifully authentic and colourful rooms within the fort.

We found it interesting that so many locals were visiting walking around virtually without stopping. To our eyes many of them appear disinterested in what they have now so it seemed odd that they would be interested in things they used to have in the past.

The views from the fort were spectacular and it became incredibly clear to us why Jodhpur is called the Blue City. After a couple of hours we followed the path back down into the maze of narrow streets heading for the Clock Tower and the surrounding Sadaar Bazaar where Kirsty bought a couple of anklets from a woman selling on the street.

All this walking and shopping was thirsty work so we stopped off at a lassi shop, apparently serving the best lassi probably in the whole of India and a recommendation from our cookery teacher, Rekha.

We went in and sat down joining the masses of locals. Due to its reputation, the place only sells one type of lassi; Makhaniya or saffron butter. Indicating we wanted two, two duly arrived in no time. They were amazing and the fact that so many locals visit the place is testament to this.

We rather foolishly then decided to leave only to realise the monsoon rains had arrived. Sheltering under a nearby shop front we watched and waited as the rains flooded the streets. Most locals are delighted when the rains arrived and one man in particular was showing his delight by taking a fully-clothed shower from the rain water gushing off a neighbouring shop canopy. I was invited to join him but declined in the politest way I could!

Once the rains had stopped we wanted to continue shopping at the nearby Tambaku Bazaar but exiting the gate of the Sadaar Bazaar we saw and heard a load of commotion ahead. Edging closer it was clear that the rain water had flooded the roads completely and this being India many people continue to wade or drive through.

Seeing that the rainwater was running like a river down the street we wanted to visit, we changed our plans and sought out a barber close to where we were staying.

Along the way we passed Spice Paradise where we had had our cooking course and were invited in for a cup of chai masala made by Anil this time. Rekha had clearly been sleeping after a late night followed by an early morning of teaching and we felt a little bad dragging her out of bed. But their hospitality was amazingly gracious and after our chai we said goodbye and went on our way.

At the barbers I had a wet shave to rid myself of the three-week beard I had been growing. It was a great experience and worth it for the face massage alone that I got at the end. He wanted ₹30 for his troubles (35p) but happy and feeling generous we handed him a ₹50 note (60p) and told him not to worry about the change.

Returning to the hostel we ventured up to the restaurant to relax and pass the time. Our train wasn't departing until 11.45pm so their slow service in the restaurant was not going to be an issue this time!

We began chatting with an English girl as we all huddled under the semi-permanent roof as yet another rain storm battered Jodhpur. It seemed wherever and however we sat, we still got dripped on but in stark contrast to this morning it was nice to be cool and a little wet!

At dinner time we walked to a nearby restaurant where we had some food before, back at the hostel, sitting in the common area we prepared ourselves for our train.

Around 10pm we finally left and getting a rickshaw arrived at the station. The scene that greeted us was unreal. People as far as the eye could see lying down on blankets, canvas or tarpaulins. These weren't people waiting for trains but people who live at the railway station. A narrow path had been left free for people to walk through but other than this, men, women and children slept everywhere.

We checked the details of our train and leaving the madness of the station building behind the scene was repeated on Platform 1 with people taking up space everywhere. Those that were awake gave us what felt like silent menacing stares as we weaved our way through. We were a couple of pale faces among a sea of brown faces and brown eyes, quite unnerving especially at that time of night bearing in mind India doesn't have lighting at night.

We gave them the benefit of the doubt as they were just inquisitive about us and we attempted smiles and the odd "Hello" or "Namaste" to keep the atmosphere friendly.

We got over to Platform 4 and it was the same story and it took us a while to find a patch of platform to lay down our bags and wait.

The train which was beginning its journey from Jodhpur arrived early at the platform and as it was trundling along empty, many locals with unreserved second class tickets began making a jump to try and score a much sought-after seat in the sardine-like conditions in which they travel. They were mostly fit young men making the leap onto the train or through the open windows whooping with joy as they succeeded. It was the older men I felt sorry for, not sure this culture gives up their seat for the old or disabled.

Our carriage AC3 (air-conditioned but with three tiers of open-berth bunks opposite each other perpendicular to the direction of travel and 2 bunks in the direction of travel - each alcove therefore having 8 beds) was surprisingly the only non-2nd class carriage on the train and had many tourists on board. Kirsty and I had berths at opposite ends of the carriage which wasn't ideal and although I got talking with a couple of lads from Sri Lanka on holiday I couldn't help worrying about Kirsty.

On one visit to her berth to check up on her the conductor allowed me to swap my berth with an empty upper bunk in her alcove which made me happier as I closed my eyes for the night.

A restless night followed although it was good sleep when it came. At just before 6am we pulled into Jaisalmer station and the end of the line. Although with no announcements as usual on Indian Railways it was only by asking several people that we could be sure.