Sport is the most visible way in which Australian-ness seems to be expressed © Getty Images

Does Australia matter? The topic came up over lunch with two Australian journalists in Melbourne at the very start of this trip. To be fair the question barely came up again unless I raised it, so it isn't as if that is such a thing to worry about. But now, as we leave, is as good a time as any to revisit, maybe broaden it.

We were talking of sacred cows in various countries; most nations have a few. One of the journalists said the matter of whether Australia matters to the rest of the world is as close to a sacred cow as you can have here. Australia was a major ally in the war on terror, he said, adding, even if the US President thought it was Austria.

It is worth reflecting upon. The country is so far from much of the world. It is also out of place; its neighbours are vastly different cultures and peoples. Perhaps that's why there is a need not only to be distinct but to be involved and known.

	Marais Erasmus is all geared up for his first Test © Cricinfo Ltd

At least four people in Cape Town will be tuning into the India-Bangladesh Test in Chittagong. A father, a wife and twin sons. Marais Erasmus is making his debut as a Test umpire tomorrow. He is chubby, friendly and slightly nervous. “Butterflies are good. I mean you should get them in your tummy, otherwise what’s the point? It is a big match for me,” he said with a laugh.

His father, who thinks his son can do no wrong, is crazy about the game and watched the first Test in Cape Town after the Second World War. Marais' wife and kids watch cricket just to see him umpire. Last month Erasmus officiated in an ODI in Rajkot which had a 5.30am start in Cape Town. “Apparently my sons got up bright and early and saw me walking out to the middle. They shouted out in joy and then went back to sleep!”

Erasmus acknowledges his experience of umpiring in the Duleep Trophy last year helped him prepare for his ODI series in India, but not for the noise levels in the stadiums. “I was, of course, told about it by the other umpires but that noise is something else. I will never forget it and you can’t prepare for something like that.”

	Boating on the Derwent River © Getty Images

If Hobart were in England, there would be no word for it other than quaint. But quaint seems as misplaced a concept in Australia as not having a nickname.

When we first arrived here a few nights ago, it seemed as if we had walked into Northern Exposure, that early to mid-90s US series about a New York doctor moving to a town in Alaska. Isolation is instantly felt, befitting of a town at one edge of the world, but not that of an underdeveloped one. Hobart is fine and functional. It just moves to its own pace, one similar to other small, port cities.

As a Hollywood actress, Hobart would be Ava Gardner, with its aloof and distant beauty. Hills of a few colours, shapes and textures skirt it.

The Derwent river lurks through it, opening to greater things. The view from the press box at the Bellerive Oval, looking out at the River end, is outstanding and distracting. Hills creep up on either side of the Oval, but are kept apart by the Derwent , which seems to form a lovely crescent around the back-end of the ground from where we sit.

Mount Wellington - calling it a hill, as I did, can be offensive - overlooks the city with a benign but still stern care. The cap can often get snowy and the weather in the city is as moody as a young, wayward rockstar.

The Tasman Bridge, which connects Hobart to its eastern suburbs and crosses the Derwent, intrigues me the most. A great tragedy visited it in 1975, when a bulk carrier, the Lake Illawarra, crashed into it, causing a section of it to collapse. Four cars fell off it and 12 people died in all.

Three taxi drivers have spoken to me about it, including one who says he was just driving off it when it happened. That kind of disaster leaves a stronger imprint in smaller cities and apparently there was a collective social fallout in the days after the incident.

Somehow, it adds to the sad grace of the city.

Paul Collingwood admires his massive equipment © Getty Images

Cricket bats have become bigger and bigger in recent years to the extent that they are like railway sleepers. However, Paul Collingwood has taken it to the extreme by using one that really wouldn't look out of place on the West Coast Mainline.

He has been using the extra-large bat, which weighs around four-and-a-half to five pounds compared to the normal weight of just under three pounds, during nets on the South Africa tour.

"It's something the Durham second-team coach Jon Lewis came up with about six months ago,” he said. "He asked the manufacturer to make him the biggest bat possible, just to see if someone could use it in Twenty20.

"I tried it in the nets as a bit of a laugh. The weight of it makes you bring the bat down very straight and play the ball as late as possible.”

The by-product of using such a heavy piece of wood is that when Collingwood returns to his normal weight bat it feels as though he is batting with a toothpick. "When you go back to your normal bat, your bat-speed is exceptional because you can't even feel a cricket bat in your hand,” he said.

However, regardless of size of Collingwood’s bat, plenty of balls having been hitting the middle in recent weeks after he made 40 from 188 deliveries to help England save the Newlands Test. There is only one problem about the extra piece of kit he is now lugging around in his bag.

"I've found it of benefit to me,” he said. “It might not work for everybody - and Phil Neale, our manager, isn't very happy with the excess baggage.”

The Manganiyar Seduction though, was as much a visual piece as it was aural © WireImage

Last night I saw a kid breakdancing to some Rajasthani folk music. As an image it worked better than I thought it might. The occasion was the opening night of the Sydney Festival, a three-week affair, the first night of which is always free. The festival is a sprawling one, showcasing theatre, art, dance, comedy and much music from all over the world. It reminds me of the Edinburgh Arts Festival, though only if that had been cross-bred with some music festival from the UK summer.

We arrived at Hyde Park with just enough time left in the night for The Manganiyar Seduction to seduce us. They are a group of folk musicians from Rajasthan and the music has all the elements of the desert region. If you were from Pakistan's Sindh, for example, the Sufi strains will come through.

There are traces of Qawwali as well, but as the dhols took over, crescendoing until it seemed they couldn't anymore and going further still, the most overwhelming memory - and music can be so associated with memories and experiences of times, places, smells and people - was of Pappu Saeen and his dhols at the Shah Jamal shrine
on Thursdays in Lahore. A similar frenzy slipped into the air here, unnoticed amid smoke, strange lights and a quiet sky.

Covering cricket is certainly not a hardship and this tour has been especially enjoyable to follow. However, there are still moments that leave you cursing. Such as when you can’t find any internet access just as you have two pieces to file.

The final day of a Test is often hectic because all the issues from the game are wrapped up, but at Newlands it was extra busy courtesy of England’s latest great escape. Does Graham Onions know how much extra work he creates?

With two stories written and filed I decided to finish the day’s work back at the hotel rather than sit on my lonesome in the Cape Town press box. That idea was fine, it had worked on previous days, so I packed up and headed back to my room which was only a 10-minute walk from the ground.

Got there, unpacked the laptop and turned it on. Searched for the wireless – there it was, not very powerful but usable – and went to connect. Then the fun started. I paid for the connection period I needed and got my log-in number only for the server to tell me it couldn’t register me. Maybe I’d put the number in wrong? Tried again, nope. OK, this wasn’t looking good.

John Howard arrived sans entourage, and mixed freely with the fans © Getty Images

Twice in one day during this Test I saw John Howard, former Prime Minister of Australia, walking around. Once I came across him just outside the press box, as he was making his way to the broadcast booths. I initially couldn’t comprehend him being there so I thought he was a former Australian captain whose name I couldn’t remember. Only after he had gone past me did I realise.

I saw him again a little later in the day coming out of the Bradman stands at the SCG, bantering readily with fans. This is why I had trouble recognising him initially, I thought: he didn’t have an entourage with him of security, sycophants and all other kinds who usually hang around important people. He was just walking around, a man in a suit enjoying a day of cricket.

Kevin Rudd, the incumbent, has also been around. He made some hot dogs for the Jane McGrath Foundation, sat in the commentary box for a while (apparently he even predicted a 37-run win for Australia early in the Test). Earlier in the summer the defence minister was seen sitting in the stands unperturbed, watching Australia and West Indies battle it out. In New Zealand earlier, the Prime Minister spent around half an hour in the commentary box just chatting cricket.

	Stuart Broad's antics didn't impress the South Africans © Getty Images

There’s nothing like a good controversy to spice things up. There hadn’t really been too much to get the match referee interested in this series except for Stuart Broad’s "inquiry" about the amount of time South Africa took to review his lbw decision in Centurion.

That all changed on the third day at Newlands – and Broad was again the centre of attention. A fancy piece of footwork was caught on camera as Broad stopped the ball then stepped on it with his size 12s. It soon became clear the issue was escalating and by the close South Africa had “raised concerns" about the state of the ball. That was enough to evoke the spectre of ball-tampering.

The South African media immediately latched on. “Ball tampering furore,” was the front page Cape Times headline, which didn’t leave much to the imagination. On the IOL website there was a blown-up screen shot from E.tv, the news channel, which showed a large foot about to go down onto the ball.

	Akram Khan: "We were never mentally tough you know, like the current lot." © Cricinfo Ltd

It's nice when people match the image you have in mind. Former Bangladesh captain Akram Khan threw up the images of a burly person lofting the spinners down the ground. Luckily, time has a way of making you forget the less memorable facets and Akram certainly was no great batsman; he didn't have a great technique and wasn't too comfortable against pace. He had a slightly odd stance and yet his physique, coupled with his captaincy and most importantly, his involvement with some of special moments in Bangladesh cricket history, had left one looking forward to a meeting with the man.

Luckily, he hadn't changed much. He was still burly, the moustache slightly more trimmed, the mop of hair still intact, and he spoke softly with a gentle smile occasionally creasing his happy face. He is currently a national selector, but it was the past that was more interesting.

We rewound to 1997 ICC Trophy in Malaysia, which was the turning point in Bangladesh cricket. Bangladesh gained Test and ODI status after the triumphant campaign - a nation went mad, cricket toppled football as the No. 1 sport in the country, and they got an opportunity to play in the next World Cup.

Akram, who was the captain then, played a fine hand in an important game against Holland to lead Bangladesh to final; they were hopping at 15 for 4 when Akram hit a an unbeaten 68 to clinch a three-wicket win. He simply smiles when you talk about it, instead preferring to talk about the celebrations when they came back to Bangladesh.

	"Leave those flies alone!" © Getty Images

There are fewer flies in Sydney than there are in Melbourne. And in Melbourne there are more flies than I care to acquaint myself with. The subcontinent clearly isn’t fly-less. But Australian flies are what we in Urdu call dheet: they are stubborn and persistent and they know it, which makes it worse. On the many walks in that city, my companions were mostly flies, having a word in my ear, giving me a kiss, counting the number of eyelashes I have left.

Lesser men than I have had similarly famous troubles of course. Some Englishman called Douglas Jardine spent most of a trip to this country in 1932-33 swatting away flies in some little ground somewhere in the back of beyond. A watching spectator, an enlightened by the name of Yabba, politely told him to stop annoying the flies. “Leave those flies alone, they’re the only friends you have here.”

These kinds of friends I can do without. Sydney, more humid as it is, should have more, but this being such a big city perhaps, they are busy doing the other things that you do in a big city, like working 9 to 5 and, to quote a local, pilates and yoga and coffee and things.

Sydney is a far greater proposition than Melbourne. You can get lost here far quicker, amid the skyscrapers, the many side streets and old terraced houses. The pace of life is quicker for sure, and the city is home to many more cultures. It might be worth delving its dynamic with smaller, sedate Melbourne; such city rivalries, like Karachi-Lahore, are as fascinating as they are revealing about a nation and people.

	Table Mountain shadows Newlands with often stunning effect © Getty Images

There are few better settings for a cricket ground than Newlands. It doesn’t matter how many times you come here (and sorry if you've read similar entries before), the backdrop of Table Mountain and the surrounding scenery still takes the breath away. Lord’s is a special ground because of its history and grandeur and the MCG is inspiring due to its sheer size, but Newlands matches them as one of the finest grounds in the world.

The evening before the third Test the media were generously entertained by the Western Province CEO Andre Odendaal for ‘sundowner’ drinks on the boundary edge. Down at ground level you really get an idea of the impact the mountain has over the ground and as the sun began to set it created a wonderful glow across the stadium.

	Fireworks over Sydney © Getty Images

To write about the fireworks display in Sydney on New Year’s Eve is nearly futile. Really it just has to be seen. We were right at the harbor in North Sydney for it, a piece of good fortune at par with being dropped on 99 when a maiden Test hundred beckons.

But for 15 minutes, to celebrate the end of the decade, the night sky exploded with colour and shape and hope. The Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Opera House stood proud in the backdrop though possibly bored for having seen it before. At times it was like being at those 3-D movies; sparklers bloomed out of the sky, right at you, coming closer and closer and yet not coming close at all. What anyone on hallucinogens might make of it I only wonder. The night might change their heads forever. It’s difficult not to feel good about any year that begins like this.

But almost as impressive was the aftermath.

	Scoreboard pressure © Cricinfo Ltd

Well, not many people expected that. South Africa routed by an innings and plenty. It’s not often England fans have been able to finish a year with such a celebration, and it won’t be surprising if some haven’t quite sobered up by the time the Newlands Test begins. There’s a New Year party to be had in Cape Town.

This job means I need to be a neutral observer of cricket but yesterday, and especially the fourth afternoon, will go down as something pretty memorable. England don’t win many Tests overseas – in fact, this was only their fourth since beating South Africa in Johannesburg in 2005. They've come a long way since Kingston and their demise for 51.

	The cricketers are not the only ones bearing the brunt of the harsh Australian summer © Getty Images

What heat came upon us in Melbourne. Having been a resident, at various times in my life, of Libya, Saudi Arabia and now Karachi, logic dictates I should be used to this. After all, I’ve played school football in the midday heat of Jeddah and Riyadh, apart from cricket in the summers. On summer vacations, we played tennis on outdoor courts in Karachi. Heat is the one thing I should be used to.

But as I went out for an early evening walk by the Yarra river yesterday – and it’s not a long walk from where we are – I had to turn back barely 300 metres into it. The sun is brutal here, absolutely brutal: Ashes to Ashes, dust to dust, if Lillee doesn’t get you then the sun must? It is at you all the time, with absolutely no respite, much like the best Australian fast bowlers I guess. It was the kind of day on which to exult in the very ineptness that prevented you from becoming a cricketer, for otherwise imagine playing in this heat.

	Football is hugely popular with the England team, just so long as nobody gets hurt © Cricinfo Ltd

“Which team do you support?”

It’s one of the questions I’ve been asked most frequently in South Africa and it’s rarely asking about the cricket. Wherever you go people want to talk about football, and it isn’t only because the World Cup is quickly approaching.

The English Premiership has a huge following out here - and not just because of the Barmy Army. It helps that there are more TV sports channels than you can throw a stick at – seven at the last count from Supersport alone - which means almost every game is shown on the box. Because of the restrictions placed on broadcasting Saturday afternoon games back in the UK it’s actually possible to watch more games in South Africa.

As in India where there is cricket on a channel somewhere 24 hours a day, the same can be said for Premiership football in South Africa. Whether it is a live game, highlights, analysis, a phone-in show or a classic match from years gone by there is barely a minute without some football (or soccer) to watch.

	Cricket has a fixed place in the Australian calendar © Getty Images

There is something so revitalising in the way Australia goes about Test cricket, and not just on the field. They care deeply about it and it is as woven into the country's social fabric as it is in India and Pakistan - though in a very different way.

The Boxing Day Test is an instructive experience. To call it an institution might be doing it a disservice, only because institutions in some parts of the world also imply a monolithic staleness, rigidity and heaps of red tape. This is more a vibrant, moving event, and people of all ages and colour give it a real hum. It is a date for the social diary. Breakfasts and lunches are organised around and during the Test, spectators make a real day of it, and it is a day for family, a day for friends, and probably a day for love also. It's in the papers, on TV, floating around on the net. It could even be Glastonbury for the life it brings, but without the drugs and maybe more suits.

Part of it, as one MCC member put it, is because cricket has a fixed place in the Australian calendar; things can easily be built around it, or organised towards it. At the hotel I'm staying in, people are already trying to book in accommodation for next summer's Ashes Test. Indeed, it is a constant gripe about the subcontinent that their calendars are in no way fixed; there is no equivalent to the Boxing Day Test or the Lord's Test in India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka or Bangladesh. It is not entirely a problem of their own making, of course, but it isn't as if there are no solutions to it.

Crowds have been good so far, surprisingly so. Nearly 60,000 came on Boxing Day, almost 40,000 the day after, and even on the third day there were over 35,000 people. Outside of Faisalabad and Multan, Test centres in urban Pakistan might struggle to generate those numbers over two or three years of Tests.

	A picture in the Durban pavilion shows the final scoreboard from the last timeless Test © Cricinfo Ltd

With the bad-light issues that often plague Durban Tests it’s tempting to suggest a few more days would be useful to engineer a result. But 70 years ago there was an occasion when even 10 days wasn’t enough.

Kingsmead is famous for having hosted the last timeless Test, where South Africa faced England from March 3 to 14 in 1939. There was play on nine days, there were two rest days, and one was washed out before further rain ended played at tea on the 10th day with England 42 short of an unthinkable pursuit of 696. At that point the tourists had to say enough was enough as they had a boat to catch in Cape Town – a 1000-mile train journey away – and the two captains, Wally Hammond of England and Alan Melville of South Africa, agreed to a draw. All that effort and still no result.

Among the many pictures that cover the walls of the main stand at Kingsmead there a few commemorating that game, including the famous image of the scoreboard showing England’s final score of 654 for 5. Spare a thought for the bowlers, too. Hedley Verity sent down 95 overs (766 balls) and Norman Gordon, the one survivor from the match, bowled 92 in the game.

	Festive cheer: a home on the outskirts of Melbourne is lit up for Christmas © Getty Images

It's taken three days to do a diary, and it's not that Melbourne is dull – far from it, in fact. But what can you really write about a beautiful city with a bright and humble skyline, naturally built for walking, home to more cultures than is generally thought, where everything seems to work, the queues are orderly, the people mostly polite, the electricity on, and water can be had from the tap? Only the weather is tempestuous.

There was a certain drunken weekend boorishness to proceedings in the city centre over Christmas and that can be intimidating if you're not drunk yourself, or new. I'm told it's harmless, and I think most of it might be good-natured, but there is a fine line to these things. And as I walked down the spookiest bridge I've ever walked down, late one night, with a man of no hair and much drink jogging to nowhere in particular along the same path for much of my journey, I shivered and scuttled a little. Newspaper headlines about attacks on Indian students here.

The William Barak footbridge improves the link between the MCG and the Rod Laver arena to the heart of Melbourne CBD (Central Business District). Barak was an early, influential aboriginal advocate for social justice, and also an artist; the 525m bridge named after him is actually is as pleasant as things of concrete can be.

A belated Merry Christmas from Durban. I hope those back home enjoyed their turkey and stuffing. It was steak from the braai out here.

Both teams trained on Christmas Day but it’s fair to say there wasn't an outpouring of festive spirit. There was only the one Santa hat on view as Graeme Smith got into the act, but with England it looked like any other training session. Cricket, it seems, is a serious business whatever the time of year. Stories have been doing the rounds of what it used to be like on tour at Christmas before players and media became much more segregated. Nowadays it’s very much them and us.

However, Boxing Day Tests are a special occasion whether held in Melbourne, where Australia are facing Pakistan, or here at Kingsmead. It's a focal point in the calendar and for South Africa it's their first at home in two years after being down under last Christmas.

But's it's probably more of an event for the travelling fans. Durban has been steadily filling up with England supporters in recent days and they all made a bee-line for the grass banks. Santa hats and tinsel were in good supply, but sunscreen and sunglasses were equally important.

Fans crammed into Castle Corner like sardines and the area was full well before the start of play. The queues at the bar quickly grew longer – it’s a day for keeping well hydrated, although the sponsor’s variety of drink is unlikely to have the same restorative qualities as the energy ones downed by the players at regular intervals.

There isn’t much shade the spectators, either – umbrellas are always useful in these parts, as for protection for the sun and the rain – so good luck to the man who was dressed on the full Father Christmas outfit. It was a surprise to see him really, you’d have thought he’d want a few quiet days after dropping off all those presents.

	Happy homecoming: Kevin Pietersen is back where it all began © Getty Images

It’s 10 years ago that Kevin Pietersen’s life changed forever. When England were touring in 1999-2000, Pietersen lined up against Nasser Hussain’s team for KwaZulu-Natal. He scored 61 at No. 9 and took 4 for 141 with his offspin. He also began enquiring about opportunities in county cricket and soon set off for a new home.

Pietersen is trying to insist this forthcoming Test will be like any other game, but a match-winning performance at Durban, his former home ground, would come pretty near the top of his career highlights. Meanwhile, Graeme Smith hopes the emotion gets to him and South Africa can take advantage.

There are a host of stories about Pietersen’s early years growing up in KwaZulu-Natal and almost everyone involved has had their say in the intervening years, especially since Pietersen made his England debut in 2004 and his first return to South Africa in early 2005. But it’s still fascinating to recall that he wasn't expected to crack the big time.

	Festive cheer: Makhaya Ntini in high spirits ahead of the Christmas Test © Getty Images

Suitcases, holdalls and cricket coffins. They are all normal pieces of luggage for the modern player. But prams and pushchairs? Even though there is a serious Test starting in three days, this is Christmas and a time for families to be together. It’s not only cricketers who have arrived in Durban.

Both England and South Africa have wives, girlfriends and children in tow. As South Africa arrived at their team hotel on Wednesday morning the mountain of luggage filled the lobby. Pity the poor bellboys who had to lug it to the various rooms.

South Africa are based in the city, just around the corner from the ground, while England are tucked away 15 minutes up the coast in Umhlanga. It’s a similar type of suburb to Sandton in Johannesburg, more relaxed and family-friendly than the rather edgy city centre. There is a new international airport being built to cater for Durban ahead of the football World Cup and it will be located not far from Umhlanga.

The morning after England’s latest nerve-jangling escape and it’s off to Durban. The big news is that we have arrived on a sunny day. That may sound like an obvious thing to say, and apologies to all those stuck in snowdrifts and shivering back in England, but in recent weeks this city has barely had a full dry day.

Those of the England squad and the following media pack who were here for the one-day series could barely get outside for a week. It was raining when they arrived, rained when they left and the middle bit was full of rain too. The long-range predictions for the Test are brilliant, either. “What’s wrong with the place,” one colleague has kept saying to me.

Maybe that is why I have arrived in KwaZulu-Natal with a less-than-inspired image of Durban (which isn’t the capital, by the way, that’s Pietermaritzburg about 40 minutes away). It’s hard to get a favourable impression of a place when you are stuck indoors, wiling away the hours as the rain hammers down. Especially when there’s meant to be cricket on.

	Paul Harris couldn't quite match Graeme Swann in the humour stakes © Getty Images

Last night’s press conferences were like an evening at the comedy club as Graeme Swann, a regular on the stage, and Paul Harris, a more unheralded joker, took it in turns to play up their audience. You wouldn't have guessed it had been a serious day of Test cricket.

It was a double-act between opposition spinners, but there was only one winner. “As soon as we get Harris out first thing in the morning, cause he’s waving like an idiot at the back of the room,” Swann said when discussing England’s plans, "we can concentrate on bowling straight and getting through the proper batsmen.”

Then it was Harris’s turn to face the media, but sadly he couldn’t compete in the laughter stakes. When discussing South Africa’s final-session bowling performance, Harris pointed to the inexperience of the attack.

“We weren’t at our best, we have a pretty young bowling line-up apart from Makhaya who’s played like a billion…” he said, which was proceeded by silence before Harris added. “That was a joke, you can laugh. Sorry, I came in after Swanny.”

Whereas Swann does a good line in confident, cocky humour, Harris takes a more self-deprecating route. “I’ve been working on the straighter ball,” he said of Ian Bell’s dismissal when the England batsman inexplicably shouldered arms, “although some people say that’s all I’ve got.”

Then he couldn’t help but smile when recalling Paul Collingwood’s wicket which came from a ball that spun perfectly. “It was nice to turn one,” he said with a glint in his eye.

The next two days will show who will have the last laugh.

	Graham Onions has never been so hot © Getty Images

It’s hotting up at Centurion. The mercury is nudging 35 degrees (and temperature readings are taken in the shade). Out in the middle it’s sizzling. No wonder England’s bowlers looked cooked after 153 overs in the field.

Conditions made for a sharp contrast from what England experienced for much of the previous two weeks. There was rain in Durban and more rain in East London before the sun finally made an appearance, but down on the coast the heat wasn't nearly as oppressive. All eyes are now on the forecast for the next few days to see if the thunderstorms return.

“I've been to South Africa a few times, so I knew it was going to be hot,” Graham Onions said. "In the build-up to this Test it hasn't been boiling hot, and it's been raining. We all expected it to warm up when the Tests started.”

	The players emerge as the series begins © Getty Images

So finally the Test series is upon us. It’s felt a long time coming, but that has helped raise anticipation levels. We are starting at Centurion Park (or the name of a certain TV company as it is known by) which is a wonderful stadium for cricket.

It has been able to marry the needs of a modern ground but also retain traditional touches. There is only one stand which covers about a third of the perimeter at the Pavilion End. It houses the changing rooms (with the long staircase to help with players’ fitness) corporate boxes and the media centre.

	Andrew Strauss accepts the BBC Sports Personality Team of the Year award © Getty Images

On Sunday evening after arriving in Johannesburg, the UK media were invited to watch the BBC’s Sports Personality of the Year show at the team hotel as England were recognised for their Ashes victory with the Team of the Year gong.

It was a slightly surreal experience watching the programme through an unbroken feed pumped into a large conference suite. Usually I have watched SPOTY on my sofa at home. This time we got to see the pre-show warm-up and heard the instructions to the audience not to trip over the camera tracks.

	Paul Harris was given a stiff working over by the South African management © Getty Images

I have been in Potchefstroom, the university city about 100kms west of Johannesburg, for three days at the South Africa training camp. Many international teams and sports people make use of the facilities; athletes regularly train here, the Australian cricket team are fond of the location and Spain will base themselves here during the football World Cup next year. A couple of English counties are also planning pre-season trips as well.

	Graeme Swann was "gutted" to miss out on his first hat-trick at any level © Getty Images

In the modern game, media training has meant a lot of what players say is clichéd or coach-speak. With many players, you can go into a press conference and know exactly what you'll be playing back on your dictaphone 10 minutes later. “We hit the right areas”, “The guys gave 110%”, “I’ve just got to keep putting in the hard work.” The list goes on.

However, a Graeme Swann press conference is something to savour, so when he took 6 for 55 at Buffalo Park everyone knew they would have some great quotes to fill up their copy. Swann Days are certainly a long way from the legendary Duncan Days of old, when the former England coach used to have to front up to the media (a job he loathed), most notably on the days when his team had performed like a rabble.

	East London's sand dunes aren't just a good training aid. They are quite pretty too © Getty Images

In my first dispatch from South Africa I mentioned Michael Henderson’s rather blunt assessment of East London 10 years ago, which made him “the most hated journalist in South Africa,” according to the local Daily Dispatch newspaper at the time.

I admit I arrived in the city with preconceptions, and as the rain fell on my first day – it was torrential during a mighty overnight thunderstorm, which forced a number of flights, including the one carrying Mushtaq Ahmed, to turn around – I could kind of see where Henderson had been coming from. However, after spending a little longer here I am starting to see the place in a different light. It helped no end that the sun came out for a day.

From my hotel in the centre of the older part of town, which does give the feel of stepping back a few decades, it’s a 20-minute walk along the foreshore to Buffalo Park. The waves crash against a rocky coastline as the penguins in the local aquarium sun themselves by their pools. Further along the path, people are selling African souvenirs, and if you carry on, rather than turn inwards towards the ground, you will reach the tall sand dunes that the England players sprinted up during one of their training sessions. There is always something impressive about a harsh coastline with the force of nature in full flow.

	Makhaya Ntini and Ethiopian athletics legend Halle Gebreselassie at the red carpet event before the 2010 World Cup final draw © Getty Images

There is only one sporting event dominating South Africa at the moment, and I can confirm it isn’t England’s upcoming two-day matches against an Invitational XI in East London. The country is still abuzz following Friday’s World Cup draw, and as I arrived at Tambo airport in Johannesburg the front pages of the newspapers were reflecting on the excitement of the star-studded event in Cape Town.

“It’s party time” splashed the Sunday Times and pieces inside dissected the event in huge detail, from how the World Cup will boost the tourist industry to what David Beckham had been eating during his whistle-stop trip. Apparently he dined on yellowtail sashimi, Nando’s lemon chicken and ostrich fillet. So now you know.

The last time I was in South Africa, for the 2007 World Twenty20, the countdown clock outside the airport read 1004 days. This time it was down to 186. The airport was also a construction site, but now it is a gleaming, modern terminal ready to deal with the hundreds of thousands who will descend in June. Not long to go.