On the way back to the hotel, I am caught in a slight downpour, nothing drastic. As I attempt to cross the road, a pretty girl in a rickshaw catches my attention. She smiles at me. I smile back. She then pats the space on the seat next to her and invites me to join her. As I climb up I notice there’s a small child next to her that she puts on her knee. We try to communicate, but know nothing of each other’s language. All I can do is smile. she seems to like this. As we near the hotel, I give her some rupees for the fare and jump down. The driver pulls out into the road, I wave and shout thank you. She waves back. I cross the road and think no more of it.

Then, as I near the hotel, rickshaw and girl re-appear. They follow me down the lane. This time, her smile has been replaced with an angry scowl. Kind words have become insults. Desperate for an angle on what is happening I pull a young Sikh gentleman. "Please tell me what on earth is going on here."He smiles. "You really don't get it, do you?" He goes on to explain that she is a prostitute. The child - who is almost definitely not hers, is there to bring a touch of respectability to the proceedings. And, as he points out, "What’s wrong with prostitution, it puts food in bellies."

Indian schoolchildren

He's right of course, but I only accepted a lift from a pretty girl. I leave him to explain the misunderstanding and scarper back to the hotel. After dinner I go out onto a small balcony covered with plants and climbers. It's still oppressively hot and sticky. The sunset is quite wonderful and soothes me after a bit of a bizarre day.

Before long a woman joins me on the balcony. Called Doreen, she's a Dutch traveller here with her two children. We hit it off immediately. She was born in South Africa. I tell her about my earlier experience, she finds this funny. Doreen then goes on to tell me about her life in South Africa. She has seen whole townships where there are simply no adults left alive because of Aids. The children have to look after each other. She explains that the men in these villagers work primarily as lorry drivers or as miners. On pay day they head into the cities to find prostitutes. Contraceptives are viewed with contempt by many African males and infection is inevitable. The men then carry the disease back to the townships and infect wives and unborn children. This puts the earlier argument about prostitution into sharp relief. While it might put food in stomachs it is also responsible for untold misery across the developing world and beyond.

We decide to change the mood of the conversation and I suggest going for a drink in the restaurant on the roof. She accepts and we find a table near to the edge. Through the darkness you can hear all of Jaipur going about its business. There is a steady hum of motor cars in the distance, punctuated by excited voices below. While Doreen's company is excellent, I am driven to distraction by the mosquitoes and I go back to my room. Once under the mosquito net I feel less vulnerable but the heat is astounding. I open a book and read for what seems like ages and at about 4am I doze off.

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