I was so taken by last week’s opening episode of Extreme Pilgrim that I just had to watch the second instalment this week. I really didn’t expect the show to have an effect on me, and I really couldn’t remember a TV show – a TV show I had no knowledge about – that was just so good.

The three-part series features shaggy-haired priest Peter Owen Jones – an Anglican feller. He’s seeking the spiritual enlightenment that he believes is missing in the UK, and is carting himself to different, alien cultures around the globe to find it. Last week he explored the Shoalin monks and Zen Buddhists in China, and went on an extraordinary journey containing martial arts, quietness and contemplation. He struggled, but there was a tipping point three quarters of the way through that made for a brilliant TV moment. This week he’s off to India to explore Buddhism and to see if it had the kind of living spirituality that he believes is missing on our islands.

Peter is travelling 36 hours eastwards of Delhi to the banks of the Ganges, to observe the Ardh Kumbh Mela festival. There, he was greeted by the overwhelming sight of seven million people, all preparing to wash themselves in the sacred river. Hindus believe that they are trapped in a cycle of life and death, and that only a oneness with God will break this cycle. The water of the Ganges is said to wash away these sins.

As mad as the sight of all these people were, Peter wanted to track down Hindu holy men – the Saddhus. These ‘living gods’ are scary-looking people – beards, dreadlocks and their skin whitened with ash, they look more like ghosts than gods.

These Saddhus are burdened by the different physical ailments thanks to years of penitence and quirky manifestations of worship – one guy had a withered arm because he had been holding it in the air for years on end, and another was weighed down with the constant wearing of beads. It all added to their mystique, and set them apart from the crowd, who absolutely revered them.

To attain some sort of access to a different spiritual plane, the Saddhus smoked a shed-load of dope. As soon as Peter was led into a Saddhu inner sanctum, he soon found that this was just one of their curious traditions – people came into sing for them, the Saddhus sit regally and can grant an audience on a whim, and of course they can absolutely banjaxed whenever they like. It’s not log before a pipe is passed around, and Pete was soon battered (“Hashish is wrapped in a rainbow,” he mumbled bleary-eyed as he staggered off to bed). The guru he was invited to sit with was called Jack Deesh (sp) – make your own jokes from that. Peter wanted to learn more about the Saddhus and their way of thinking, and he was fast-tracked into the system because Jack already saw him as a holy man. Peter was given a loincloth to wear (“be careful not to get it wet with the piss,” his dresser giggled), as well as some bright orange robes.

He sat, observing, as part of Jack’s inner circle – Eunuch transvestites came to sing for him – and it made him think. Peter thought that these strange-looking fellows were impressive, and thought they were living link to an ancient age. He never sees his Bishop back in England, yet these exalted holy men made themselves accessible to their people. And the people loved them for that. The one thing he couldn’t get his head around was how to dissolve the self – the Hindu way of being at peace and at one with God. So, after he escaped a mini stampede, which comprised the extraordinary sight of thousands of naked Saddhu trotting down to the Ganges for a wash, he journeyed into the Himalayas to take the Saddhu test – living on your own in a cave and contemplating life.

He was accompanied by one very friendly Saddhu and an apprentice, and his journey really opened his eyes to the country – the colour, the Gods (there are 36,000 in Hinduism), the sickening poverty and the sheer enormity of the place. There were Shamans by the roadside, beggars in the street and hustle and bustle everywhere. He was quite overwhelmed.

But soon Peter and his companions were out in the peace and quiet, walking along the river Ganges, getting stuck into naked yoga sessions every morning and eating veggie food by campfire. The quiet was a contrast that shocks him.

After a blessing from Jack, Peter apprehensively walked up into the mountains to live in a cave. The cave is just outside a village, and when he gets there the villagers showed him where this Saddhu station is. It was musty, hadn’t been used in years and made the word ascetic an understatement. But Peter, now ready for solitude, was shocked by the attention he was getting and soon realises that he’ll never be alone in this place – the villagers just couldn’t keep away from him. They came to ask for blessing, they brought food and bedding or even just came to sit in his presence. The Saddhus and religion were obviously taken extremely seriously, and because the village was so poor, so remote, it was easy to see why.

In the end Peter decided to leave. He found that this test wasn’t so much the liberation he’d been hoping for, and that being a Saddhu brought huge responsibility with it. People expected much too much from these holy men, and that he was there to give the people comfort, belief and hope to the villagers. Their only hope.

Peter did get to spend some time alone, and he did begin to see what the dissolving of the self was all about. You meditate; you listen to the noises, smell the smells… and suddenly everything just merges into one. But in the end, he felt guilt and anger – back in the UK, he supposed, it’s all about economic stability and growth. Here, in India, people have no hope except from the Saddhus and their religion.

We left Peter perched on a mountaintop with the thrones of the Hindu Gods laid out before him, suffering from dysentery. Another top, top programme. It didn’t affect me personally as much as last week’s trip to China, but it was still a hugely interesting, entertaining and humbling piece of television. Bring on Egypt next week!