Imagine a stage full of Cossacks singing Kalinka and doing that stomping about dancing. In clogs. Now imagine the stage is made of stainless steel. That’s just how my head feels this morning. No wonder Boris Yeltsin stood in front of that tank. He probably wanted his head blowing off to save him from the misery of a vodka inspired hangover. I only meant to have a couple of glasses but my good intentions went West, or should that be East, as soon as the bottle cap came off. Ah well, what time is it? Bugger! It’s 7.15am and I’m supposed to be up and ready to be out of here by 8am!

Two cups of hot, sweet coffee later (I’m sure they must get Old Nick himself to brew it, it’s that hot!) and I’m good to go. No scrap that, I’m going ready or not. It’s a long drive and my head doesn’t help my concentration at all. I’m silent in the back of the car. Not that I’m Michael Parkinson at the best of times but today, I’d put a silent order of monks to shame, staring dead ahead at the long, dusty road.

Two hours later and we’re in Jorhat looking for Hotel Paradise, a misnomer if ever there was one! You couldn’t plan this any worse if you tried. There are two Hotel Paradises, next door but one to each other and my guide and driver have no idea which one I’m booked into. It would be dead simple to just go in and ask which one has a reservation for the Western bloke. But no, they sit there and argue, stopping only to phone up their boss and ask him which one it is.

Decision made, we stroll into Paradise. If I was writing this from Afghanistan, it would have a whole different meaning! Now who’s the fool? In my alcohol induced state, I can’t find my passport. Check my pockets. Nope. Ah, the money belt in my bag? Nope. Oh no! Check my clothes bag, thoroughly, including the side pockets. Nope, no sign. The receptionists look at my guide and driver, they in turn look back and in turn at me. Ah, a flash of inspiration as I check the side pocket on yesterdays shorts. Hurrah, it’s here!! Formalities completed, I sign in and am accompanied to my room. I don’t think the sink has been cleaned since Gandhi last wore a suit. Goodness knows how it got it’s supposed three stars. No matter, it’s only for one night and tomorrow I’m off to Majuli Island.

I’m being picked up again in an hour to be taken to Sivasanagar for a day out. Blimey, I’m starting to sound like an OAP in a retirement home. Rather than hang about in a hotel room, I decide to head out and sample the delights of Jorhat. I’d only got twenty yards down the road when my guide turned up and decided to join me. It was a further two yards before we decided to go for a drink instead. Ten minutes later I’m having dal curry with chapattis. There’s no end to my financial largesse as I splash out by buying both my guide and driver lunch. It comes to a staggering 60/- (I don’t think I’ve explained to you that the old shilling sign stands for rupees, sorry) that’s almost a pound! No matter with a wave of a 100/- note I settle the bill, waving away their silent protests. Leaving the dhaba I’m accosted by the village drunk. I always seem to attract them. They make a beeline straight towards me. Anyhow, fair play to Manoosh, he dealt with him and I was ushered into the car and away to Sivasagar, leaving the drunk on the pavement shouting out my name to all and sundry.

Sivasagar. The Siva part you might already know? It’s a Hindu God and it’s pronounced “She-ba” the second part is pronounced “Sha-gga” and means ocean. Now put the two together, wobble your head and say it out loud with an Indian accent. See, just what I thought! I was convinced they were saying sheepshagger. No? Just me then I guess. The place is quite famous in Indian history. Dotted about it has several lemon and ochre-brick ruins built by the Ahom monarchs during their 17th and 18th century heyday. Very impressive they are too. There’s also a Hindu temple to be visited. The place was crawling with homeless folk looking for a few paise. One of them looked at me and seeing the steely determination in my eye, turned to his mate and said “Oh look, it’s Rob of Rochdale, we’ll get nowt here Sanjit”. It’s nice to know my notoriety has spread. The temple itself had several priests and Sadhus dotted around it. One was happily puffing on his chillum pipe and gladly posed whilst I took his picture.

To be honest, culture wasn’t my thing today and I struggled to look interested half of the time. It’s a good place. If you get a chance, go! Just don’t have a bucket of vodka the night before.

I was relieved to get back on the road to Jorhat and even happier when we stopped at a roadside dhaba. Bless them, I bet they’ve never had a Westerner stop there before and they pulled out all the stops to ensure my food was good. I even tried black dal which was bloody gorgeous. I ate with my fingers and I looked a real mess when I’d finished. They were also keen to find out if I’d enjoyed the food and were delighted when I said it was barely passable. I josh. I didn’t say that at all. It’s just my attempt at instilling humour into this missive.

Back to the hotel and oh happy day, kalu kalay! The hotel has net access! But only in the conference room, which turns out to be a large room with chairs set out and two chest freezers stuck together as a table up front. Still, I manage to plug in the laptop and get my email from home. If you’re reading this, thanks they really are appreciated. If you’re my bank manager then the internet is still not working and I haven’t received mail in months.

I’m back in my room now and at the second time of asking, room service have brought me a bottle of Kingfisher beer. A whole 650ml of golden pleasure. I’ve just happened to glance down at my fingers bringing you this crap and a thought enters my head. Oooh, they’re still bright yellow from the dhaba’s dal and curry. But, tonight, the room actually seems more comfortable. I feel a bit brighter. In fact the world seems just a tad nicer.

I’ve also just realised why. The beer they’ve brought me is Kingfisher strong and a quick read of the label informs me it’s around 8% ABV. Here we go again. ..I love you lot, yer me beshtest mates!