How is it possible to get a cold in 45 degree heat?! I'm blaming it on breathing-in Varanasi: the constant dust, incense, smoke from ceremonial torches and... well, the other thing doesn't bear thinking about!

If its possible, I think Bodhgaya is even hotter. As I have strength for little else, we've taken to seeking rest bite from the heat by spending our mornings meditating in the shade of the Bodhi Tree -- undoubtedly the most sacred fig tree ever to grace the earth.

The tree of wisdom, which flourishes amid the beautiful garden setting of the Mahabodhi Temple, is where Prince Siddhartha (the founder of Buddhism) achieved enlightenment. After which, Buddha was said to have stated unblinkingly at the tree in an awed gesture of gratitude and wonder. As we attempted to do the same thing -- attempting not to be distracted by the maroon and yellow clad monks performing endless prostrations on their prayer mats -- we were instructed in the Bodhi Tree's entire and fascinating history (all three of its incarnations) by an extremely eager fifteen-year-old monk. We were even gifted a couple of auspicious leaves, as tokens of luck and good fortune.

The other of Bodhgaya's great joys is its collection of monasteries and temples, built by different Buddhist cultures from around the world. We recognised the architectural styles of the Thai Monastery, a brightly coloured way with good leaf shimmering from its arched rooftop, and of course, the Vietnamese Monastery and the Chinese Monastery. But we also got a glimpse of the Indosan Nipponji Temple, an exercise in quite Japanese understatement; the richly presented Bhutanese Monastry; and the newer Tergar Monastry, a glory of Tibetan decorative arts.

I can completely understand now how this tiny temple town is to Buddhists what Mecca is to Muslims.

What actually delighted me the most about the monasteries was how they were serving the community: as we'll as spiritual guidance, they all offered free medical facilities, and the Japanese Temple ran a free school. A scruffy little boy, no older than five, made my day when he hurried over to great us with a little bow, hands together, and a "namaste". Although I am not fooled, there was definitely a Denise-the-menace-smile going on there -- his poor teachers!

And he wasn't the last to seduce me. Our new, young monk friend took us to visit an orphanage where he teaches English when he's not studying himself. We were welcomed, sung to and played patter-cake with by 30 gorgeous kids. I had my hair styled by two ten-year old girls -- both with high aspirations of become a doctor and a teacher. While David talked to the cutest budding engineer -- or 'gineer' as he told it -- I've ever met. A really enjoyable evening, but also incredible eye opening.