Bryan Young transformed himself from a struggling keeper-batsman to an opener, but he is remembered more for his unique "pocketing" ritual after taking a catch © Getty Images

In the nineties, a man took “pocketing a catch” a bit too literally. While playing for New Zealand, Bryan Young would take a slip catch, put the ball in his pocket, and run towards the successful bowler to shake hands. Cricket is a game for various aspects of various characters, and this one stood out for Young. He is actually remembered for that, and not for a more incredible achievement. But that’s for later.

That celebration came about as a fluke, Young says. “We were playing Pakistan in a Test at Eden Park. It was the first Test of the series. In that game I happened to take six catches in the field. In those days you didn’t really have to give the ball to the umpire. I took the first one - and I didn’t even think about it - and put it in my pocket, went up and congratulated the bowler.

“Five or ten minutes later I took another catch and did the same thing, and I didn’t even think about it. At lunch time the manager told me the TV guys were making a bit of talking about it. And they said, you better keep doing it. I just sort of laughed it off, and the catches kept coming my way, and because so many catches came to me in those two days, all of a sudden it became a following.”

The other cool thing Young did was not a fluke at all.

Aged 29, after nine years of keeping wicket and batting in the lower order, he transformed himself into an opener. From a flashy keeper-batsman to an opener so stoic, he used to bore people. He frustrated the best of them into giving him some verbals. Wasim Akram once asked him if he was carrying his club bat or Test bat. Curtly Ambrose, whom he – surprise, surprise – drove, told Young that if he wanted to repeat the shot, he would need a stapler.

“I had lost the passion really for keeping,” says Young, “and my body wasn’t handling it really well. I was having a problem with my knee. And I think I also recognised I was struggling to make the national team as a wicketkeeper. So I made a decision that I’d retire the gloves and concentrate on my batting. Thankfully it worked out well for me; it was a risk.”

It couldn’t have been easy work? “The transition was a hard one,” he says. “I locked myself in an indoor centre with a batting coach and transformed my game at age 29, which was pretty hard work. I worked very hard for four, five, six months actually. And then I got my chance and I was able to take it. I guess I had two careers.

“In my hometown we had an indoor centre. I worked hard with Robert Anderson. I asked him for some help, and he very kindly helped me. It was all about restricting my game. I was a wicketkeeper who played 360 degrees; I played all the shots. Ended up being an opener batsman who played a very few shots. That was very hard because my natural game was to attack and to play with flair. I changed an awful lot for Test cricket. It was not my natural game when I was opening in Tests.”

Not playing his natural game, Young played 35 Tests, scoring two centuries – one actually a fluent double against Muttiah Muralitharan and co. The other one was a seven-hour 120 in a successful chase of 324 against Akram and Waqar Younis. But he now talks like a typical opener, making a passing acknowledgement on these innings, and choosing a score of 29 as his best Test knock.

“There are some other innings that’s not a big score, but you actually look back and say technically you played really well.” Sounds like a very cool thing for an opener to say. But Young is serious too. “My 29 against Pakistan in that same series, I felt that the best two hours for me in Test cricket. I think back on that and actually that was – seaming all over the lace and moving around - quite satisfying.”

An average of 31 and a strike-rate of 38 in a belated Test career might fit a journeyman cricketer. But because he rediscovered himself at such a late stage, and because he developed a celebration style that was cool yet dignified, Young is not one.

	Andrew Strauss earned a standing ovation from the British crowd after his first-day hundred © Getty Images

The Brits are out in force again. The stands at the Kensington Oval are a sea of red, white and blue. Luton Town are in the house, as are Tom and Dan from Potter's Bar. It’s only a few typos away from being the Kennington Oval.

Barbados 2009 (and for all England tours since the mid-90s) is the reverse of what was seen in London during the 1970s and 1980s. As the all-conquering West Indies – the Harlem Globetrotters of world cricket – blasted away all before them, they were cheered on by crowds full of West Indian fans when they played at The Oval in south London.

Last time West Indies visited The Oval, however, there was barely a supporter in the crowd shouting for them, and while the locals are trying to make themselves heard in Bridgetown they are fighting against the tide.

It’s a shame in many ways. A couple of times in this series we have glimpsed what a strong local crowd can add to the action. On the fourth day at Sabina Park and the final day at the ARG, the home side were cheered to the rafters. But there appears to be a wait-and-see approach. Maybe it comes from the inconsistent nature of West Indies – the supporters are still not sure which side will turn up.

A piece on Cricinfo the other day, by my editor Sambit Bal, talked about the passion of taxi drivers being a window into the passion for cricket in this country. That passion is still there, but not quite with the strength that once was the case, as people struggle to accept a team that doesn’t win consistently.

However, they don’t always help the situation themselves. On a local radio phone-in the night before the Test, one caller said West Indies needed to revive the days of Garry Sobers. Heck, that’s going back a long way. Great eras, by definition, don’t come along very often and this current side needs to respected for more modest achievements.

The cost of a ticket to the opening day here was $80 Barbadian, which is $US40 (or about £30). Not dirt cheap by any measure, although apparently not out of reach of huge numbers in Barbados, one of the wealthier Caribbean islands. Still, why not drop prices? It’s a common cry, but the problem is that the stands are packed by visitors quite happy to pay those prices so the local board is going to want to milk it.

That sounds unfair, but as Chris Gayle said before the match, cricket is now “becoming a business". The bottom line is what matters, and sadly that is coming at the cost of the true West Indian experience.

	Curator Chris Scott and fourth umpire Marais Erasmus at the Wanderers © Cricinfo Ltd

A few days ago I wrote about the novelty of spectators wandering on the field during the lunch break in Potchefstroom. I assumed that was because it was a low-key tour game. What I wasn’t expecting was for fans to have the same freedom during the Test match at the Wanderers.

Coming from Melbourne, where if you so much as place a toe on the field you’ll be heavily tackled by security guards who resemble frustrated rugby players, it has been fascinating to watch the fans stream over the Wanderers on the opening two days. The centre-wicket square is fenced off but the public can walk right up to each end of the pitch and inspect it at their leisure.

The fourth umpire Marais Erasmus is stationed next to the pitch to ensure there’s no funny business. A Cape Town lad, he remembers strolling over the outfield at Newlands when he first went to a match there and he thinks it’s a good tradition to give fans a first-hand insight into the game.

“Yesterday I was asked [by a fan] about the two other strips that they [the teams] have the bowling practices [on],” Erasmus said. “The guy said he always thought, because he’d only watched it on TV, that it [the centre pitch] was only one place where they kept playing on every time.”

Chris Scott, the Wanderers curator, is the man who makes the call on whether the fans are allowed on the field but bad weather is likely to be the only reason he’ll deny them access. As he and Erasmus chatted during the lunch interval, hundreds of people set up mini-cricket matches and took photos of themselves next to the pitch, soaking up the Test match atmosphere at the Bullring.

“I believe it should happen,” Scott said. “It’s part of growing up with cricket. People love and remember playing on the Wanderers at lunchtime. From time to time people will leave a bit of junk on the field but I’ve got staff here and we all walk off and we pick it up and take it away.”

In a game that has become so heavily regulated that it sometimes appears only an afterthought to attract crowds, Scott’s approach is refreshing. It’s good to know there’s at least one place in the world where the fans still matter.

	Tino Best: still has ambitions to play for West Indies © Getty Images

He was wearing a basketball top, a baseball cap and a bit of bling. The face looked familiar, but not instantly recognisable. Then someone shouted over “Tino.”

When England toured West Indies in 2004 they faced a quick bowler who was determined to make a name for himself. Tino Best didn’t do things by half and on removing Graham Thorpe, at Sabina Park, for his first Test wicket he sprinted towards the catcher a fine leg before lying, arms out-stretched, on the ground in celebration.

“Cricket should always be played that way, but also in the right spirit,” he said. “I remember some battles with Mr Flintoff and battles with Nasser [Hussain] and Thorpe. The best batsman I ever bowled at was Graham Thorpe. He’s a guy I rated really high from when I was a youngster so it was the best feeling ever to get him out.”

Mr Flintoff? Clearly there was plenty of respect there. "He’s a great entertainer," Best said. "Just look at the Test that has just finished [in Antigua], he had an injury and he had the determination that every cricketer should have."

However, while Best is remembered for making the England batsman hop around, many prefer to recall his performance with the bat in the following summer’s Test at Lord’s. With West Indies sliding to defeat in the second innings Best came out swinging, especially at Ashley Giles, but after middling a couple Flintoff, who was stood at slip, came out with the line: “Mind the windows, Tino.” Next ball, Best had a huge heave and was stumped. Flintoff didn’t even try to contain his laughter.

“I didn’t really hear him say anything,” Best said. “The thing was whenever I faced Ashley Giles in the Caribbean I used my feet to him and hit him over the top. They were chatting to me, but I couldn’t really understand what they were saying.

“I just played my shots, missed it and then heard them talking about windows. The guys in the dressing room said had I not heard it? It’s a big joke now and I just laugh it off.”

Best ended the England series in the Caribbean with 12 wickets at 25.08, but that Lord’s Test was his only outing in the return contest. He played just four more matches before being discarded by the selectors and has since thrown his lot in with the Indian Cricket League.

“It had a lot to do with the coaching, I was never comfortable with the set-up,” he said. “After I got injured they tried to change my action and that didn’t work. That is one of the most uncomfortable feelings, when you don’t like your action. It really hurt me.

“I was meant to go to New Zealand in 2006 and I turned up at the airport and there was no ticket for me. A lot of things like that disappointed me. But it has just made be get stronger. I’m only 27 and could come back."

Best retains hope that the ICL situation will be resolved, although the recent outcome (or lack of) at the meetings in Johannesburg suggests it won’t happen. But he still has ambitions of resuming his international career, and certainly doesn’t lack confidence in his own ability.

“I’m still the quickest bowler in the Caribbean. Ask any of the local commentators and they’ll say that. I have one of the best records for Barbados and I’m still the quickest without a doubt.

“I don’t want to disrespect Daren Powell, but he is looking a bit tired and that is my spot. It would be great to run in with Fidel [Edwards] again.”

For all his brashness, bullishness and bling a return to the top level is looking like a pipe dream. The best has probably been and gone.

Two days at Windward Park was a pleasant distraction from what has
been a Test series full of controversy, surprise and intrigue. The
players appeared to enjoy a less pressurised atmosphere and they were
cheered on by a healthy crowd, certainly on the Sunday as people made
their most of their weekend to enjoy a few beers and rums at the
cricket.

Not that there was a shortage of stories. Ravi Bopara and Amjad Khan
impressed after their 41-hour journeys from New Zealand, while Matt
Prior received news of his new baby and flew home. Not quite what
England needed ahead of a must-win game, but this tour has never
really gone to plan.

One of the highlights of the two-day game was some of the names on
show in the President’s XI team. Without a doubt the most eye-catching
was the opening bowler Barrington Bjorn Beckenbauer Yearwood. His
parents must been a fan of the former England batsman, have liked
tennis (or maybe Abba) and enjoyed German football.

But it’s back to the serious business now, and for England that means
trying to level the series and set up a decider in Trinidad. They
couldn’t have asked for a better venue. The redevelopment of the
Kensington Oval has been done in a way that has modernised the ground
but retained character - although it does look a little odd having one
side with no stands.

The Worrell, Weekes and Walcott Stand looks a little like the Lord’s
media centre and the only shame is that they have closed in the press
box which was open-fronted for the World Cup. At least it should cut
down on my sun burn.

England will also have huge support to cheer them on. This is a
must-see Test for many fans who travel overseas and plenty have been
spilling into town over the last few days, filling the bars of St
Lawrence Gap on the south coast. They probably won’t have expected the
heavy showers that blew across Bridgetown for much of the day, but
hopefully they will have cleared by Thursday.

One final point to mention. They are building a beach at the ground
and after the debacle in Antigua surely sand is the last thing people
want at a cricket stadium. Thankfully, this time it’s on the right
side of the boundary – the outfield couldn’t be better.

	Hoosain Ayob oversees net bowlers in Soweto © Getty Images

As the Australian players guided children through skills drills in Soweto, a tall, authoritative figure hovered on the fringes and kept an eye on the action. He looked so much like the actor James Earl Jones that when I introduced myself I expected him to tell me in a deep, sinister voice that he was my father. Instead he told me that he was Hoosain Ayob.

He's not a household name in cricket circles but he probably should have been. A first-class player who had the misfortune to thrive in their isolation years, Ayob was in 2000 voted as one of the top six South African fast bowlers of the century, alongside the likes of Allan Donald.

Rather than feeling any resentment for having been denied an international career, Ayob has spent his post-playing years working tirelessly to develop the game at grassroots level. He spent a decade as the ICC's director of development for Africa, spreading the sport from Malawi to Libya, and now is a development co-ordinator in Gauteng.

He works in the Soweto district, one of the poorest regions in South Africa, where one of the big challenges is keeping talented children in the game. Somewhere in the area could be a Test star of the future but the difficulty is getting the brightest prospects into the academies.

"What we have found with our children is the transport problem that they face," Ayob said. "Some of them can't manage. Gauteng has organised transport but for the kids on their own to make that trip is very difficult. We have academies but there's a limited number. You need more of the kids otherwise you lose them."

At least the children are playing cricket in the first place. When Ayob began pushing cricket in Soweto in 1981, it was an uphill battle. Only in recent years has it become easier to attract grassroots interest.

"Role models like Makhaya Ntini and now JP Duminy give the children the opportunity to feel like they could also make it," Ayob said. "Years back parents never worried about watching the game on television. Now it's common around the grounds you see a lot of black faces."

There were plenty at the Bramfischerville Oval during the Australian players' visit. Ayob's job might be far from done but as he passed an analytical eye over the talented Sowetan youths learning from Ricky Ponting's men, clearly thrilled with the game's progress.

"Once there was no cricket in this area," he said. "Now more and more people are turning to cricket."

	"Paaji don't bowl inswingers!" © Cricinfo Ltd.

Over the last few days in New Zealand, one man has been talked about all over – the Master. One has heard stories of how people take a step back for Sachin Tendulkar when he passes. This would be next to impossible in India, what with the overbearing security never letting that theory be put to test. In New Zealand, though, Tendulkar has moved around freely during training, nets and what not, with only two security guards looking after the whole team.

The Indian team has attracted not only Indian expats, but New Zealanders too. Lots of students from the Lincoln University, whose cricket facility has been India's base camp so far, have been around to watch them train. The other day two youngsters walked across to see why there was a crowd around the nets. Just as they were about to turn, one of them said, "Hey wait the Master is batting." And they waited. Good old-fashioned Tendulkar.

On the field Tendulkar entertains the crowds with his masterful batting, but off it, he chooses to entertain himself, sometimes at the expense of his ‘less skillful’ team-mates. During India’s net session at the indoor facility of the New Zealand High Performance Academy on Monday, he managed to coax Harbhajan Singh into batting against the bowling machine, which he decided to operate himself. While regular batsmen tackle the machine with ease, the others aren’t as comfortable. The feet shuffle and often, while waiting for the ball to pop out, they lose their balance and then run for cover.

Harbhajan stood there, looking like a child resisting his parent's push to get into the swimming pool. "Paaji nahi ho raha… [I can't do this]," he said after a few unsuccessful attempts. "You just look at the light, the ball will come out five seconds after it goes on," said Tendulkar.

So Harbhajan tried again. The feet trembled and the ball still didn't hit the sweet spot. Fearing injury, Harbhajan was reluctant to face the inswinger. "Paaji don't bowl inswingers," he pleaded. And paaji bowled an inswinger. "Paaji aap to maje le rahe ho [You are having fun at my expense.]" And then Harbhajan mistimed and got bowled. He went to pick up the plastic stumps again, his back covered, and sure enough another delivery came while he adjusted the stumps – safely swinging away from the stumps. And paaji laughed loudly. He was entertained. So were those around. And when Tendulkar is happy, usually so is the rest of India.

	The pavilion at the 3Ws Oval in Barbados © Andrew McGlashan

If the most drastic reports are to be believed the West Indian domestic structure is being held together by sticking plaster. Neither the one-day or four-day tournaments have sponsors after KFC and Carib Beer ended their deals, while the WICB have had to delve into their own reserves to keep the competitions going.

So I thought it would be a good idea to try and grab a brief experience of the domestic scene. As one or two people will testify, I have a passing interest in county cricket back home. So how do the two compare?

Given the tight tour schedule and the two extra days in Antigua it was fortunate that there was a four-day game going on in Barbados as I arrived in the country. The Combined Colleges and Campus side was taking on Leeward Islands at the 3W's Oval, the University of West Indies' ground on the Cave Hill campus, just north of Bridgetown.

As I turned up it was the end of the lunch interval and the umpires were making their way back out. There was a double-take moment, because one of them was Richard Kettleborough, the English umpire, who is here on an exchange programme to help local officials.

It was hard to judge the standard, but these two sides aren't the best examples. CCC, as their title would suggest, are no better than the university sides that pretend to play first-class cricket in England. Leeward Islands, once such a strong team, are now one of the weakest of the main sides.

The WICB have expanded their first-class structure this season, but it is hard to see what benefit there is having a team like CCC take part. If a few of the players were good enough, they would be in the main island team. A very telling factor is that the first-class bowling averages are dominated by spinners, some of whose figures have probably been flattered by the type of batting that helped Anthony Martin collect three scalps here.

Without sponsors there was a hotch-potch collection of kit among the players. Those who had played for West Indies, including Omari Banks and Lionel Baker, wore their Digicel branded tops, some wore their club kit and others had no branding at all. The manual scoreboard was operated by two hard-working people, but speed wasn't always of the essence. "Scoreboard, it's now 66 for 1," announced the PA system.

The crowd was virtually non-existent, although again it wasn't quite a fair comparison because this wasn't the main Barbados team. However, county cricket is criticised for a lack of attendance, but it remains the best supported domestic scene in the world.

The ground itself is an education (as it should be being a university) with enough names to make the best part of a West Indies all-time XI. Alongside the great trio that give the venue its name – Everton Weekes, Frank Worrell, and Clyde Walcott – the two ends are named
Ramadhin/Valentine and Holding/Roberts. Throw in the George Headley room in the pavilion and there's enough to rival the ICC's Hall of Fame. And just to add to the scholarly feeling, across the road is the CLR James centre for cricket research.

The dozen or so people who were sat in the pavilion began a heated debate on West Indies' batting order with Devon Smith seemingly at the centre of the argument. Whenever a wicket fell they would also have plenty of advice for the batsman, bemoaning how the 'kids' have no
patience these days. Occasionally a small batch of people would come in from elsewhere on campus, such as the martial arts training that was taking place behind the ground, and as has been noticeable here and in Antigua everybody knew everybody else.

Then, as tea approached, the clouds rolled in and it started to rain. So maybe it was just like county cricket, after all.

	Jeet Raval made his first-class debut for Auckland against the touring West Indians © Cricinfo Ltd.

India have been mobbed by the expat community in Christchurch, but there was a known face for Ravindra Jadeja and Ishant Sharma. Jeet Raval had played against them when he represented the Gujarat Under-15 team, but he had to leave cricket – momentarily – when his parents decided to move to New Zealand when he was 16. After three years of waiting, he has qualified for selection to the New Zealand team, having made his first-class debut for Auckland against the touring West Indians.

When he met Jadeja and Ishant, he was representing the Emerging New Zealand Players who were taking on the England Lions in the ground next to where the Indians were practising.

Raval was also Parthiv Patel's opening partner when he played for Vidyanagar School in Ahmedabad and remembers playing with Mohnish Parmar and Bhavik Thaker as well. All three of his mates were big performers this Ranji season.

The path however, was different for Raval. "It was a difficult decision [to leave India]. I was always into cricket, and I didn't know if I would be able to carry on with it in New Zealand," Raval says. But it was a big moment in his father's career, and so he moved along.

The Ravals came to Auckland, with a son educated in Gujarati-medium school and with cricketing ambitions. But there was little to worry – not only did he pick up the language fast, he did not feel like an outsider on the cricket field. He had his inspiration in New Zealand spinner Deepak Patel, who went on to become his mentor.

In three year’s time, Raval made it to the New Zealand Under-19 team, playing against the likes of Dhawal Kulkarni, Ajinkya Rahane and Piyush Chawla - big names on the Indian domestic circuit as well.

Raval had left one country, moved to another, and was accepted in the new nation – based on his talent as a left-hand middle-order batsman - in that three-year period. Even he fails to make the cut for the New Zealand team, in his mind he is sure that his talent will get its due. Like the diving catch he took today to dismiss Robert Key got, with Sachin Tendulkar, Harbhajan Singh and Zaheer Khan running their laps in the background.

If you don't have a car, taxis are the most reliable way to get around Johannesburg, usually. Following the late-night trip back from Potchefstroom I was waiting in the lobby of my colleague's hotel, on the lookout for the taxi that the reception had called to take me to my own accommodation.

As the minutes ticked by, there was no sign of the cab. Not to worry, said the hotel porter. A security guard named Stevie was doing his nightly rounds and he was heading in the right direction and would happily give me a lift. I knew there would be a fee required but the alternative was sleeping in the lobby, so I gladly took him up on the offer.

As he pulled out of the hotel driveway I noticed that something wasn't quite right. The driver's side window had been smashed out and replaced by a plastic sheet, whose most alarming characteristic was that it was not transparent. When you're turning across traffic, it's good to have at least a vague idea of what's coming your way.

Fortunately, we made it onto the main road without incident, although Stevie appeared to be having some trouble staying awake. To his credit, his eyes stayed open at the crucial moments and he was knowledgeable enough to get me to my hotel without needing directions.

But I got the distinct impression that Stevie, the sleepy security guard, would not be overexerting himself on the security side of his job tonight. Not when there's a handy sideline in unofficial taxi-driving to be had. All in all, I hope my next cab turns up on time.

	Iron Maiden are scheduled to perform in Christchurch © Getty Images

"Go straight down Colombo, take a left from Madras and you will reach Barbadoes." To paraphrase a line usually spoken about India, it happens only in Christchurch. They are names of streets located close to each other. Other such specimens are Bengal Drive, Lucknow Palace, Worcester Street, Gloucester Street, Antigua Street and Durham Street. It helps that the “street” is dropped from the names in casual conversation. The origin of the names indeed lies in the names of famous places around the world. The spelling of Barbadoes is the same in the original plan of Christchurch drawn up by Edward Jollie.

There is a certain lack of imagination in the street names. And the city itself, named by John Robert Godley, the founder of Canterbury. Why Christchurch? Well, Godley studied at Christ Church, Oxford. The Avon river that flows through the city gets its name from the more famous one in Scotland.

All the names come from the Commonwealth. There is no exhaustive explanation for each name – one can try visiting the libraries sometime during the tour, but people suggest the names came from people who had been to other parts of the Commonwealth. For example, a very hypothetical one albeit, if some Viceroy or a person with some such fancy designation had lived in, and liked, Madras and had come back to find an unnamed street, he could have named it Madras.

Inside those streets, though, coffee shops, restaurants and pubs with the most creative and cryptic names for can be found. Spotted in the city centre: Six Chairs Missing, Last Train to India, Left Click, Bicycle Thief, Two Fat Indians, The Ruptured Duck …

There is an interesting story on how the name Ruptured Duck came about. Legend has it that a fisherman from the Sumner area was on his way to repaint his boat when he ran over a duck. He renamed his boat "The Ruptured Duck" while he painted it. Many years later, when another man came across a wrecked fishing boat named The Ruptured Duck, he had found a name for the restaurant he had bought by the name of Cornerstone.

	Local Indian fans enjoy the day out watching the nets session © Cricinfo Ltd

It was an ideal winter morning. Hot coffee under a canopy at a street café near the Cathedral Square. A drizzle's pitter-patter overhead. Nice music on the radio as people went about their jobs happily. And then the radio said, "The rockstars of cricket are here." And so said a hoarding outside the AMI Stadium, which was closed on the weekend. The "rockstars" campaign has been devised to advertise India's tour of New Zealand. Elsewhere New Zealand Herald profiled some of the key Indian players under the headline, "The happy-slog millionaires". *** Lincoln University is about a half-an-hour's bus ride from the town. And it's some ride – through the green meadows, being watched by the hills, crossing the idyllic Prebbleton village. The Indian team took that ride for their first practice session of the tour, at the Bert Sutcliffe Oval, which in itself is what a painter would produce after reading Cardus and the likes on countryside cricket. No wonder the players were all in a cheerful mood when they arrived. For somebody new to the city, it was difficult to believe a team would go so far out of the city for the nets session. Getting directions to it were hard enough since not many had heard of it before.

But before India reached, England Lions, here to face New Zealand Emerging Players, were training there. Local Indian expats began to arrive half an hour before the team did. India maybe used to the attention wherever they go in the world, but even they wouldn’t have expected such an enthusiastic turnout at a ground half of Christchurch didn’t know of.

The England Lions, including Luke Wright, Samit Patel and Sajid Mahmood, went on about their business like university students would do on a routine day. Not a single journalist to watch, a fan was a far cry. The ground staff golf-carted their way around the ground as they would on any other day. But at around 2.30pm, cars started pulling up. From nowhere a crowd of about 35 gathered even before the players arrived, one of them a courier driver and a school mate of Irfan Pathan's. John Wright was surprised at seeing the crowd and realised what they were there for only after the Indian team arrived. "Sachin, Sachin," he chanted, not too loud lest the man himself heard.

This was no routine practice session. The groundstaff had to get to work immediately to keep people out of the nets area. The word spread, and in no time the crowd almost doubled. A few Indian students in the university, along with their New Zealand friends, were among those who stayed the longest. Out came the bean bags, sofa and an easy chair, from what looked like a hostel building near the Oval. And then the beer. The rest made use of the grass banks around the ground. Every good shot, every good extraordinary delivery, every special catch was cheered.

The Indian team, even if not consciously, played along, with banter loud enough for them to enjoy. Virender Sehwag, beaten by a Sachin Tendulkar delivery, said, "Main aapko kaise maar sakta hoon [How can I hit you, it won't look good]." Gautam Gambhir complained he didn't have anything to do in the nets after his batting was over. "Even in Sri Lanka, when all and sundry bowled, the captain didn't let me bowl." Loud enough for Mahendra Singh Dhoni to hear.

The crowd spoke in their respective native languages when their state compatriots came in earshot. Two of them started talking in Kannada to catch Venkatesh Prasad's attention, when he came to gather the ball. The Gujaratis, who dominated the composition of the crowd, tried the same trick when any of Yusuf Pathan, Irfan, Zaheer Khan or Ravindra Jadeja approached.

Loud laughter emanated both from inside the nets, and outside. A lack of overbearing securitymen, as in India, helped. Despite the funs and games, it was an intense first session, focusing on all three disciplines, after which all the players obliged with autographs – on bats, papers, and bodies - and photographs. A quaint university had come to life for three hours. The locals acknowledged not many would turn up if New Zealand were training. It will be put to test on Monday, when the hosts assemble after finishing their domestic Twenty20s.

	How about using that bloke who bowled well during the lunch break? © Getty Images

"Patrons are reminded that they are not permitted on the playing arena at any time." That's the usual message that is broadcast over the PA system at cricket grounds around Australia, regardless of whether it's an international match, a state fixture or a tour game.

So it was rather unexpected to hear the announcement as the players left the field for lunch on the second day of Australia's warm-up game - a first-class match - against the South African Board President's XI in Potchefstroom. The PA system delivered a message telling the fans they were allowed to run amok on the oval during the break, though perhaps not in those words.

Being a Saturday, several hundred fans had turned up and they didn't need to be told twice. Soon there were dozens of mini-cricket matches being played by kids in the outfield and some of the bowling looked just as dangerous as anything offered by the two proper teams on a flat pitch.

Other spectators went for an inspection of the pitch, although they were stopped from getting on the centre square by a group of security guards holding up a protective tape. It meant the day was actually fun for the spectators and it was a refreshing change at an international venue.

The waves were crashing on the south coast of Barbados as I pulled into my latest hotel, but will this leg of the tour provide calmer waters? The 11 days in Antigua produced some extraordinary stories – from the sandpit at North Sound, the move to the ARG, Allen Stanford's fraud investigation and West Indies' gusty effort to save the Test.

The departure from Antigua proved a final intriguing moment from a crazy week. As we pulled up to the airport we drove past Stanford's grand office buildings, the Bank of Antigua and, of course, his cricket ground. The lights were still on in the Sticky Wicket bar, but it's safe to say no one was at home.

In some ways it was almost a relief to arrive in another country. That is one of the fascinations of touring West Indies as each island you arrive on is something new. I'm a bit of a fan of filling my passport up, too, so all the extra stamps are a bonus. All the immigration officers so far have noticed the job title I put down as journalist and quickly start talking about the cricket. They are incredibly disappointed when I tell them I'm actually here to cover a farming convention.

Although there are many things to link all the Caribbean islands, each is also subtly different. Flying in over the west coast of Barbados you have a great few of some of the prime real estate. Massive houses with extravagant pillars and balconies lined the shore and vast hotel
complexes, which look like small towns, prepare to welcome the well-off travelling support.

Michael Vaughan has a house on the island and given England's current injury problems it might not be a bad idea for him to fly out just in case. It would certainly been an easier journey than Amjad Khan and Ravi Bopara have had to make from New Zealand. Those two are going to
struggle to know what time it was when they arrive.

As for me, well it's been the usual list of things to sort. Another hotel check-in, another new sim card and another call to my bank to unblock my card which gets barred every time I try and use it in a new place. I'm very grateful for my bank's anti-fraud measures, but I couldn't help chuckle as they ran through my statement confirming all the transactions were mine.

Is there no escape from the AFL? Understandably the football code dominates the sporting pages in southern Australian newspapers during the winter but even in summer an inordinate number of back pages are splashed with stories of off-season football dramas, when cricket should be the sport of the moment.

You'd think that travelling halfway around the world to South Africa would be enough to escape the clutches of Aussie Rules. But at Senwes Park in Potchefstroom, the Australian cricketers were greeted by a familiar logo on the advertising boards where several signs promoted "AFL South Africa", making the venue seem as much like a rural football oval as an international cricket ground.

It seems that Aussie Rules is one of 11 recognised sports on the roster at the North-West Academy of Sport located in the city. AFL teams have plundered the Gaelic football leagues in Ireland in recent years to find athletic players who can switch codes, and the league is keen to stretch its tentacles to South Africa as well.

But while several of the Australian players were keen to find out the scores in the pre-season football competition back home – my team Carlton beat Ricky Ponting's North Melbourne while the first day of the tour match was being played – there's not much chance AFL will be dominating the sports pages of tomorrow's Potchefstroom Herald.

	© Getty Images

Some random thoughts while on the way to New Zealand - seven different airports, various hotel transfers and immigration checks, and far too many flights.

1. 2.30am. That's when one wakes up in India to watch a Test in New Zealand. Not to mention the numerous fights with other inmates of the family house that come along with it.

2. Rain. A reality that comes with New Zealand. England's wet summer is over-rated.

3. 2.30am and rain. Lethal combination. Almost always happens if one wakes up on time.

4. Hotel rooms and smoky bars/ Cigarettes and lost key cards… The homesick blues John Wright wrote about towards the end of his term as India coach. One is not homesick, just that it's impossible to think New Zealand without thinking Wright. Especially if one has read Wright's endearing memoirs, Indian Summers.

5. Soiled cricket boots. Who can forget them? Harbhajan Singh, for your information, has landed safely and hasn't paid any fine this time.

6. Radio Tarana. Auckland-based radio station that plays the most obscure of Bollywood songs. Reminiscent of Aakashvani.

7. The bowler is Holding, the stumps are flying. Unfortunately one of the more abiding images of cricket in New Zealand. A little less abiding is Colin Croft shoulder-barging umpire Fred Goodall.

8. Maniacal double-centuries. Refer to Nathan Astle and, to a lesser extent, Graham Thorpe.

9. Rectangular grounds and drop-in pitches.

10. Dibbly-dobblies. Self-explanatory.

11. Beige jerseys and fake moustaches.

12. Grassy banks and watching cricket in blankets.

13. Daylight till 9pm. On a dank first day in Christchurch, the light stayed good till 8pm.

14. Rain (again). Was there to welcome India in both Auckland and Christchurch.

The Australian players love Potchefstroom, even if some of them struggle to pronounce it. If a suggested name change goes ahead and it becomes Tlokwe, that won't be any easier to get their tongues around. But one thing that is easy for the squad is getting to the place. They fly in to Johannesburg, board a team bus, and are there in a couple of hours.

For the average visitor it's not so simple. Especially if said average visitor is also a distinctly average driver. Trains and buses aren't really an option, so the easy solution would in theory be to hire a car. But even in my hometown of Melbourne I have the ability to wind up further from my destination than when I set off, just by getting wrong-laned or misreading a street directory.

It would not be out of the question for me to leave Johannesburg for Potchefstroom and lurch up to the Lesotho border with an upside-down map, an empty tank and a nagging suspicion that something was wrong. In the end I managed to find a local reporter making the trip and hitched a ride to Potchefstroom without bother and quickly discovered that there isn't much hassle in the town itself.

A low-key university city a fraction smaller than Geelong or Cairns, it's a million miles from Johannesburg, figuratively if not physically. Its strong Afrikaner history has to some degree made way for the new South Africa, which is clear when you travel along Walter Sisulu Avenue and Govan Mbeki Drive.

The city's big claim to fame is as a sporting centre. Potchefstroom's plethora of grounds and facilities attract top international athletes, rugby players and cricketers, and it's where Australia were based in the lead-up to the 2003 World Cup. It's also where they play their only warm-up match on this Test tour. They picked the right place for a low-key build-up.

Election fever has hit Antigua (and Barbuda). There is much for the people of these small islands to think about and two huge issues have reared their heads over the last week. First there was the pitch debacle at the Sir Vivian Richards Stadium, for which some have laid the blame at the government's door, then there was the far more serious issue of Allen Stanford.

Bringing back images of when Northern Rock lurched into trouble in the UK, there were queues snaking around the Bank of Antigua on Wednesday as people tried to grab hold of their savings – or at least make sure they are safe. A colleague, perhaps tongue-in cheek, I couldn't quite tell over instant messenger, asked me if I had enough cash for my last few days before heading to Barbados. There goes that slap-up meal down on the harbour tomorrow night.

Baldwin Spencer, the Antigua and Barbuda prime minister who I spoke with earlier in the week about the North Sound fiasco, announced the general election for March 12 during a live radio address on the evening that Stanford's fraud charges became public. "If ever there was a reason and a time for the Antiguan and Barbudan people to come together in solidarity that time is now," he said.

The two parties involved in the election are the UPP (currently in power) and Labour. It has been impossible to miss the campaigning while here in Antigua with huge billboards on nearly every street, rallies being organised and most lampposts swathed in blue and red wrapping. Apparently each party has taken to trying to cover up each others colours.

People also drive around playing campaign pledges over loudspeakers attached to cars and buses. Maybe Gordon Brown and David Cameron should jump onboard the number 72 along Oxford Street?

While people expected the election soon, it surprised many when it was announced on the radio. My hotel manager said it had been expected to be launched live on TV during a UPP rally.

I'm no political expert – that A-level seems a long time ago – but take more than a passing interest in such things. It has been fascinating to see how much of this island is actively involved in the election. And after my stay here, I'll be taking more than a passing interest in the result next month.

	It's almost like Twenty20 ... but where can I get some mobile credit? © Getty Images

Despite a three-year gap in hosting Tests the ARG has looked pretty much as everyone remembered it. One detail, though, is not quite the same.

The party stand, the large double-decker structure to the left of the pavilion, hasn't been able to live up to its name. Before the match started there was a suggestion that the stand had been condemned and couldn't be used. Then they were just going to use the bottom, before finally announcing they would open the entire structure.

Still, though, the authorities weren't convinced enough to allow Chickie and his disco back in there. Perhaps that's not surprising, it does look a rather ropey structure. In fact, the day before the game a welder was busy making a few last-minutes repairs. It was a case of no sudden movements for the fans who sat there.

So what about Chickie and the entertainment? He has been found a new home by the scoreboard and certainly hasn't let the crowd down. At the end of each over, the fall of each wicket, and even each boundary, the music is pumped out. It's almost like Twenty20.

An interesting collection of tunes make their way out, ranging from a bit of Queen, to a taste of Abba via a quick flavour of Boy George. There is plenty of local flavour, too, and by mid-afternoon the England fans were dancing to anything as the runs flowed. At one point it turned into a contest between Chickie and the Barmy Army.

However, what makes the ARG different was around the corner. Just because play has ended doesn't mean the music stops. Actually, people come into the ground just to party and the speakers are cranked up a few notches.

About an hour after the close he finally announces: "It's time for me to go now, but I'll be back tomorrow." He also warns people to be careful as they leave. I doubt he did that before. Maybe health and safety have got to him.

******

Michael Holding was 55 on Monday and was also inducted into the ICC Hall of Fame alongside Andy Roberts and Viv Richards. Thirteen of the current 55 inductees are West Indians, highlighting what an immense part they have played in world cricket.

This ceremony was due to take place on Saturday, the second day of the second Test, but of course that game lasted 10 balls to sort of ruin all the ICC's best laid plans. However, never fear, they wouldn't miss out.

After being presented with commemorative caps by Julian Hunte, the WICB president, the trio went on a lap around the ARG with the healthy crowd standing. Their career highlights were also read out over the PA system, but someone perhaps underestimated everything the three had achieved. Viv's career took two thirds of the lap to complete and by the time Holding's had been wrapped up the players had long since moved on.

*****

I needed to top up on some mobile credit today. Simple enough you may think. So I popped outside the ground during the lunch interval and spotted a stall display a sign saying credit available. "Can I have $20 worth," I ask only to be met with: "We don't sell credit, have to try the chemist down the street."

This wasn't a major issue, but as I turned away I heard one man say: "So why don't you take your bloody sign down." He had a point.

Finally this series is back into full swing. It's the third Test, but really it's the second, because the second one we had two days ago lasted 10 balls. Still following? It's been a crazy few days.

The outfield was bumpy, the run-ups a little damp, some of the seats a bit wobbly and the press box a little cramped, but none of that mattered. The music was at full volume, the England flags were draped around the ground and the atmosphere was electric.

There were cheers for the toss, for the first ball, for the first run, for the first boundary. They grew louder each time. When England passed 51 there was almost a standing ovation, and later the ground rose as one to acclaim Andrew Strauss's century. It was a day of 'I was there' moments to add to quite a list from the last week.

The great and good turned out for the occasion. Viv, of course, was there and looking a lot happier than two days ago. "This is how it should be," he said. Curtly Ambrose was there (and seemed even taller) while doing some radio work and the Benjamins, Winston and Kenny, were seem arm-in-arm on the outfield.

The prime minister of Antigua, Baldwin Spencer, was also at the ground to soak up the moment, but he also has the job of finding out why it reached this stage.

"It was most unfortunate what happened at the Sir Vivian Richards stadium, but we got this ready quickly," he told Cricinfo. "We were concerned about the thousands of tourists who had come to Antigua and we couldn't afford a situation where they would have needed to leave and not see any cricket.

He has also promised that the government would take charge of the investigation. "We will certainly put the necessary mechanisms into place to make sure the investigation can take place."

But the day was all about making the best out of a bad situation and the ARG managed it. "It's certainly a nostalgic feeling, it reminds me of those wonderful days at the ARG," the prime minister said. "And the fact that we were able to transform it in 36 hours to host a Test match, that clearly demonstrates the resilience of the Antigua and Barbuda people."

So what about the longer term? The locals clearly want Test cricket back 'home'. The common feeling among many people you ask is that the ground at North Sound is "a load of b*****ks" to quote my taxi driver.

"Clearly the situation has to be investigated going forward. I don't think that should lead to a situation where Test cricket can no longer be played at the [SVR] stadium," the Prime Minister said. "As far as the ARG is concerned I'd always stated that this ground should be in a position to hold cricket at the highest level.

"I still believe the Sir Vivian Richards Stadium can meet the required standard as far as the pitch and outfield is concerned."

However, even if the stadium was fit for action it is unlikely the locals would attend. "A lot of people are glad to see cricket back here. Sometimes circumstances allow for something to happen that you'd never anticipated," admitted the PM.

An hour after play, DJ Chickie was still blasting out the music as people drank and danced into the evening. They were celebrating the return of a long lost friend.

	The groundsman's biggest challenge © Getty Images

"I always believed Test matches were going to come back to the ARG," said a tired, but proud Keith Frederick. However, he would never have believed the scenario which sees international cricket back in St Johns after three years. It's been a surreal few days in Antigua as a Test has been moved to a new venue in less than 48 hours.

When it was announced on Friday that the second Test at the Sir Vivian Richards stadium had been abandoned, Frederick sensed what was about to happen. For the past day-and-a-half he has become the most important man as far as the short-term future of this series is concerned. "I was at the [SVR] stadium watching the game and when I learnt the game was off I quickly jump in my car and left. I suspected this might happen."

He immediately set to work preparing a pitch and bringing the outfield – dominated by a football pitch – up to a playable standard. He has worked on the ground for many years, but as we chatted on the edge of the square it is clear how much this surface means to him. "This is a very special pitch," he said. "Not only is the reputation of Antigua at stake but also West Indies. I'm very happy to be involved in getting the ground ready.

"I think it can be as good as some of the pitches we have produced here over the years," he added confidently. "This wicket should be interesting, I think the ball will bounce nicely and carry well. The bowlers should enjoy it."

That hasn't always been the case at the ARG, a ground with more than its fair share of batting records. But it won't need centuries to make this match memorable. So long as the surface proves safe everyone should be hugely grateful for Frederick's efforts. Without this second ground in Antigua, the series would have had to be shifted to another island, or even reduced to a three-match affair.

What makes his work even more extraordinary is that three weeks ago the ARG was basically a field. "I'm absolutely overjoyed with the condition it is in now," he said. "On January 25, if you'd come here you would have seen a field and wouldn't have believed that this transformation could be made. There was no pitch at all, just rough grass, and you wouldn't have been able to tell me where the pitch was."

Despite everything that has gone into this last-minute preparation Frederick said he wasn't the type of groundsman who got nervous about his 22 yards. "It should be good game," he added. The fact that there's any game at all is in no small part to him.

Being driven around Antigua is an interesting experience. White lines appear an optional extra outside of the capital, St John's, and are mainly used for marking the popping crease. Pot holes are deep, occasionally verging on cavernous, and there are endless blind bends. But it's a heck of a lot of fun.

After a couple of England's training sessions this week I have opted to use the local bus service to return to my hotel and it has added a whole new dimension to the journey. And when I say local buses, don't think about the 275 along Uxbridge Road.

In Antigua it is a mini-bus type vehicle. For anyone who has been to South Africa, picture the vans you can jump on board to whizz around Cape Town. Occasionally those come without steering wheels so the driver can fit in an extra passenger and, while the Antigua version is less extreme, the principle remains the same.

To begin with there is no set timetable. The buses just leave when they are full. And by full, I mean not being able to squeeze in another person. As in any mini-bus there are rows of seats, but at the end of each is another fold-down seat and each of these gets filled as well, plus the two next to the driver. So by the time you leave the stand it's like a can of sardines. Spare a thought for the person sitting on the back row in the far right corner – there is no swift exit for them.

Normally, though, it works out that an early drop-off will free up a seat and then it becomes like one of those puzzle games where you have one free block and have to move all the other pieces around. When someone shouts "bus stop" it often requires some severe logistics to allow the person from their seat.

Then there is the actual driving. Antiguan roads aren't busy (at least by London standards) but they bring with them their own set of challenges. I've noticed that people have a habit of just liking to stop rather randomly on the side of the road, causing some sudden braking and manoeuvring.

These mini-buses aren't always the most responsive of vehicles, either, especially when weighted down with a full load. Overtaking is particularly interesting, especially when the option is taken on a blind bend, while going up hill, with a van that is surely loaded with more than it is made for. But each time we make it and continue on our way.

Hills and valleys provide something of a challenge while the van is fully laden, and at one point it almost feels like it needs a push to reach the top. However, once we chug our way up the driver makes the most of a tail wind – and gravity – and floors it down the other side.

The passengers quickly begin to disembark as we pass through the centre of the island and towards the south coast. The occasional person hops on board (and the driver seems to know everyone, as is a general way in Antigua) but by the time my stop approaches it is just me left. I still shout 'bus stop', just because I want to, and he quickly pulls up at the side of the road. I jump off, slam the door and he speeds away. St Johns to Falmouth harbour, the north of Antigua to the south, in 30 minutes. On a bad day on Uxbridge Road I'd have gone half a mile.

Stand 16 at the West taxi station in St John's. My taxi driver said I wouldn't be able to miss him. Sure enough, as I wander through the parked cars all I have to do was say one name: "Gravy."

Labon Kenneth Blackburn Leeweltine Buckonon Benjamin – it's a good job his mother came up with the nickname, because his full version would never have caught on. As I walk up to his store, which sells everything from bolts to batteries to beer – "the hardware is in the back," he later says – Gravy is on his mobile, no doubt getting the latest gossip ahead of the Test.

There have been frequent, heavy showers around Antigua over the last 24 hours. "Mention the cricket in Antigua and the rain comes," Gravy says. "I spoke to the groundsman the other day and he said everything would be okay."

Gravy became known all over the cricketing world for his dancing exploits at the ARG (Antigua Recreation Ground), which he made his home from 1988 until retiring in 2000. He is almost as famous as the players he supported for all those years, but when I put that to him he says: "That's not a very good sign, is it?"

The beard is a bit whiter these days, but his passion for the game hasn't dimmed just because he no longer struts his stuff in the stands. The last time he 'performed' at the ARG he wore a wedding dress. "I wanted to go out on a high," he said, "so people would remember me." Like anyone would ever forget.

But with another Test match around the corner does he miss his days entertaining the crowds? "Not at the new ground," he says. "It would never be as much fun." That echoes the view of many fans in Antigua, who have shunned the new Sir Vivian Richards Stadium. "They should never have moved," Gravy adds.

Gravy must get hundreds, even thousands of visitors, coming to his stall not because they want to buy something but because they want to meet a legend. Yet he is more than happy to pose for a picture and is eager to talk about the England team.

"What happened to them?" he asks of the Jamaica collapse. "They are good players."

As I try to sound as though I know what I'm talking about, mentioning captaincy-coach splits, the IPL and the fact that England just aren't very good at the moment, Gravy sagely nods his head. As a West Indies supporter he has seen it all before.

Feeling a bit a guilty at being one of those people who came just to meet Gravy, I realise I need some more batteries and ask him for a pack of AAs. "You need them for your camera?," he asks. "These ones would damage it, better go to the shop over the road." So I buy a lighter instead. Don't know why, I don't smoke.

Before leaving I remember that my taxi driver, who took me to the ARG in the morning, asked me to say hello to Gravy for him so I give him the message from JP. "He's a good man, will look after you well," Gravy says. "When you see him, tell him he owes me a Red Stripe." I bet he hardly ever needs to buy himself a drink.

With his stall to look after, Gravy doesn't get to watch much cricket these days but is hoping to be in Barbados for the third Test. Is there any chance of comeback? "Nah, I'm retired," he says, before adding. "But I might be going to St Lucia [for the one-dayer] and might do a little dance for the fans." It's sure to bring the house down if he does.

If you are ever in St Johns and happen to be near Stand 16 at the West taxi station walk by and see Gravy. He'll be more than happy to chat and you will leave feeling uplifted.

First up, my bags didn't make it onto my flight. After standing for 15 minutes by the carousel I, and about a dozen other people, caved to the inevitable. We would be wearing the same clothes again today. Apologies to anyone who sat down wind of me.

We all approached the LIAT baggage agent who, of course, had the process down to a tee. He'd seen it all before, in fact with the previous flight and no doubt the next one as well. Asking what the problem was he said "overweight," which I thought was a bit harsh as I don't think my waist had expanded that much despite all the jerk chicken and tea-time doughnuts.

After filling out the form – "only I know the codes," the agent said when asked if people could do their own – he said the bag would be delivered by 11am today. I left my hotel at nine to go to the England net session, and when I returned at 2pm my bag was waiting for me at the reception. When I tried to lift it I realised what the man had meant by overweight. Must pack lighter in future, but a change of clothes has never felt so good.

So the concerns about LIAT were true, but in their defence they also lived to their later promise. Thousands of people at Heathrow's terminal five had to wait a lot longer than 12 hours for their luggage to arrive.

Anyway, enough of the bag stories (at least for now) this is, after all, a cricket tour.

England's players had their first chance to release some of that tension that has built up during, and since, their stunning (for the wrong reasons) collapse for 51. It's always interesting to watch players go about their routines, especially when they have sunk to such depths.

The challenge, though, was finding the session. They had been scheduled to train at the Sir Vivian Richards Stadium from around 9.30am, but when we pulled up there was distinct lack of cricketers. So it was back in the taxi and a quick trip to the Recreation Ground in St Johns and an unexpected rapid tour of Antigua from south to north.

For the record, Kevin Pietersen and Andrew Flintoff looked in good nick – it was a case of keep your eyes on the ball when they were both pinging the spinners out of the nets. Ian Bell, though, had a bit of a rough time against the quicks, but the one who had the biggest struggle was Tim Ambrose. He began in the spinners' net, facing the combined skills of Pietersen, Mushtaq Ahmed and a local youngster, so nothing too taxing there. But then in the quicks' net (or probably more accurately by now, the medium-pace net), he was twice bowled, once by Ottis Gibson and then by another net bowler.

Now, it may not seem important that England's reserve keeper could hardly lay bat on ball, but if Matt Prior goes down on the morning of the game Ambrose is in. And, he is set to play in the fourth Test anyway because Prior is flying home for the birth of his child. Better have some more nets before then, Tim.

The Antiguan bowlers helping out with the session all enjoyed the chance to bowl at the England batsmen and certainly put plenty of effort in. So much so that one of the quicks pulled up with what seemed like a hamstring strain and was helped out by the England physio Kirk Russell. Normally he has enough injuries to deal with from his own team, but today everyone came out unharmed. At least physically.

	The airport in St Marteen © Cricinfo Ltd

I'm sending this from Princess Juliana International Airport, in St Marteen, on my way to Antigua. The two teams – and the TV crew – had a direct charter flight, but the humble journalist is not so lucky. However, this brief stopover has many bonuses.

This is what the Caribbean looks like in the holiday brochures; sweeping beaches, crystal blue water and swaying palm trees. Jamaica had all of those, but Kingston itself was a rather edgy city. That isn't meant as a harsh comment – and I certainly didn't have a chance to explore it properly, while other areas of the island are meant to be stunning (not least the Blue Mountains) – but when you are warned not to walk five minutes between hotels it does give you a certain impression.

St Marteen, an island split in ownership between the French and the Dutch, is the picture-perfect Caribbean island, as my final destination of Antigua also promises to me, with luxury yachts moored in the bays and coves. Dutch police patrol the customs area, making one tempted to burst into a Harry Enfield sketch but then realising it probably isn't very wise.

However, what makes it even more notable is the thrilling approach to the airport where you skim low over the beach. If you want a picture, just stick the airport name into Wikipedia or Google and you'll see what I mean. (It's here, Ed.)

Our plane was a fairly modest jet, but when the jumbos come in from overseas they have to approach so low over the beach that the sunbathers can almost reach up and touch the fuselage. It is a haven for plane spotters and those who have ever wondered what four jet engines sound like from a few metres away.

But, as I sit here making the most of the Wifi in a pristine, modern airport that puts Gatwick and much of Heathrow to shame, I can't help but wonder whether I will be joined later tonight by all my luggage. Many of you will have heard of the issue of lost bags on inter-island flights, they are the must-have travel stories of a Caribbean trip, much like trishaw rides in Sri Lanka or tuk-tuks in India.

When we checked in at Norman Manley International the agent said he would happily tag my main bag all the way to Antigua. As an aside, a colleague travelling with me had a nice heated debate over excess baggage which, with commendable persistence, he eventually won.

"But there's no guarantee that Liat will deliver it," was the agent's less-than-reassuring aside as our bags were hurried away to the dark recesses of the baggage system. In these parts, Liat, which officially stands for Leeward Islands Airport Transport, also stands for Lost in Another Terminal.

The problem, you see, is most of the planes are so small with about fifty seats and not much room for suitcases and holdalls. My ticket says my bags will arrive in Antigua, and the company rep in St Marteen was adamant they would as well. I'll report back tomorrow with the end result.

	"Googly!" © Getty Images

A genial bodyguard waits outside the room. Inside, by a window through which the Indian Ocean glistens in the night light, Arjuna Ranatunga holds court. Clad in a lungi and a shirt, he rolls out one good story after another till late into the night - almost 2 a.m. at last count.

As you would expect, some stories are printable, others are not. Some are dipped in cricketing nostalgia, others are his thoughts on the present state of Sri Lankan cricket and his future ambitions but here we'll stick to the cricket.

Ranatunga talks with that lovely Sri Lankan lilt, where he appears to be almost singing out some of his words. He becomes animated when he talks about the best fast bowler he has faced – Wasim Akram. "He could do anything. He could bowl at 150 kph one delivery and the next ball he could knock your stump out with a slow delivery. And of course he could bowl his fastest after a few steps."

"I remember him hitting me on the helmet with a nasty bouncer," he says, ducking as he says it. "I adjust my helmet, look up and he's ready to bowl! He'd turned around after taking five steps into his bowling mark. I'm not ready, no! He runs in and again hits me on the helmet. If I'm reborn as a cricketer, I'd like to be Wasim Akram." It fits.

Ranatunga, a commanding, aggressive captain, can't be content playing those delicate late cuts - he wants to be the complete fast bowler who can swing, reverse swing, york and bounce you out."He was the most natural cricketer that I saw."

High praise considering he has been associated with Sir Garry Sobers, who was Sri Lanka's coach when Ranatunga started his career and was instrumental in getting him into the team. "Oh he was a genius. Once, in England, the ball was seaming around a lot and we were being beaten and finding the nicks. He stormed across, 'What are you lot doing? Hey fat boy! Give me your gloves.' I offered the bat as well. He brushed me aside and took out a stump.Just a stump, you know. And he played six balls and connected perfectly.

"I remember another incident. This was later, after his coaching days. I was in the nets and he was standing way above in one of the enclosures and watching me. He called me in later and asked, 'Why are you holding the bat this way?' I hadn't realised that my grip had changed. He told me what my ideal grip would be but asked me to not to try it during the tour. I changed it the next game and got a high score.

He charged after me and said, "I told you not to change the grip mid-game and mid-tour. You never do some thing like that!' And I told him, 'Sir Garry' – Ranatunga never ever called him just Sobers even once in the conversation – 'you are genius and I am a genius too. So I managed to pull it off!' We both had a good laugh. He is a great man."

The talk shifts inevitably to Shane Warne. Ranatunga traces the relationship to the first time Warne came to Sri Lanka to bowl. "There was such hype over what he would do to us. I walked in and saw that there was nothing so great. I hit him for a six straightaway and immediately Asanka Gurusinha came across and said, 'Machang cool down. Take it easy.'"

Ranatunga, Gurusinha and Romesh Kaluwitharana all hit centuries as Warne went wicketless in the first innings. "But he came back to pick up three quick wickets at the end of the second innings and Australia won. He went on to become a very good bowler indeed."

But we weren't about to let him go with that platitude, were we? "I had an injury to my hand and when I went in to bat, I was taking my bottom hand off the handle while defending. Warne had men in the deep. He walked up to me and said, 'Hey you're showing respect to Warney?'

'Respect?', I said. 'I'm crippled here and you are bowling with men in the deep. Why don't you bring them in?' He did."

Ranatunga chuckles as he adds, "I went down on my knees and hit him over deep midwicket. He then bowled a googly and I called out googly as I played it to the off side. It was good fun!"

So if it's not Warne who was the best spinner that he faced. "It was Abdul Qadir. I had problems picking his googly." Murali's doosras? Ranatunga didn't have any trouble picking Muralitharan's doosras, though.

The talk moves to Sachin Tendulkar and his admiration seeps through an anecdote. "We got him out twice in consecutive games with a man standing at short very square point. The next game, you won't believe, he never hit one shot in that region. Not one."

Ranatunga has featured in only three advertisements so far. The first was to raise funds for the General Hospital, the second for a polio drive and the third for a garbage disposal campaign. All were done for free. "I got 250 rupees for my first Test and traveled by train to the game. After that Lipton Tea came in and said they would offer me 250,000 rupees to feature in an advertisement. I asked them to meet my mother. And she told them, 'My son is not for sale'. I was lying in my bed that night when she came and sat next to me and explained her decision. I still remember what she said: 'Son, remember, never ever sell your talent and face for anything.'"

	"Sweet revenge" reads the lead story in the Sunday Jamaica Observer after West Indies routed England © Jamaica Observer

It's a good job Sunday is the traditional day of rest because a quite few people are probably nursing some serious hangovers. Kingston woke up to headlines of "REVENGE" as the newspapers savoured the moment of West Indies' famous win. The town was quiet this morning, the normally packed roads nearly deserted, but it had been a far different story the night before.

The music was pumping out of Sabina Park long after the game finished and the mound stand would have partied all night if officials had let it. Some young West Indies fans will never have known a moment like this after being brought up on a history of defeat after defeat.

But shortly after the presentations, as the outfield was opened up for spectators to wander across (how nice it was to see that allowed) people of all ages hurried to look at the 22 yards were the drama had happened. A photographer who is out here for the UK papers later said that a young kid came up to him pretending to be Jerome Taylor. That is how heroes are created and a new generation of cricketers born.

The youngster ran alongside the pitch, hurling himself into an action that would certainly have got the interest of the ICC. But, of course, that didn't matter. He wanted to be a cricketer.

On the boundary edge a normally quite private Chris Gayle was posing for endless photos with Usain Bolt, another Jamaican star. Bolt had been a promising fast bowler in his youth before choosing athletics as his career, but maybe yesterday's events will encourage children to give cricket a go.

The speed of the victory took everyone by surprise. There were no chairs in the press conference room and my taxi driver hadn't heard the result. "What, West Indies won?!," he exclaimed. "You serious, man." It's always nice to convey some good news.

While the locals celebrated, the England fans went off in search of New Kingston's bars to drown their sorrows, although at the press conference Gayle had made an offer of his own when asked what they should do on their day off. "I could cook for them, some peas and chicken," he said. "But I'm sure they'll find somewhere for a beer."

And they certainly did, as many descended on Courtney Walsh's bar, Cuddy's, in the diplomatic area of town. It was a reggae night, but the England fans seemed happier to watch the Premiership football highlights. Later in the evening Fidel Edwards and Sulieman Benn (the little and large of West Indies bowlers) walked in with beaming smiles, but other players opted to stay at the hotel.

Shortly before the music began the DJ asked for a big cheer for West Indies. Then a lone member of the Barmy Army forlornly began to sing "We're going to win 3-1." His friends just looked at him, laughed, and went back to their beer. It was the best thing to do.

	Ravindra Jadeja impressed with the bat on debut © AFP

Ravindra Jadeja had his first taste of international cricket today and he showed that he belongs there. He didn't embarrass himself. Through the last ten days, whenever one has bumped into him at the team hotel, Jadeja has always been talking about grabbing his chance when the
opportunity comes

In the morning, ahead of Jadeja's first one-day international, Sachin Tendulkar gave him the India cap on the ground. It's been a 12-year dream for Jadeja. It's the story of a young boy and his
mother standing firm on the path to walk in life. When he was just eight and beginning to fall in love with the game, his father, a security guard, decided he had to join the army and was just a
day away from enrolling him. Jadeja cajoled his mother to persuade his father from doing it.

Later, he made his first-class debut in a Duleep Trophy game in 2006 and hit a 49-ball 53 with six fours and two sixes against an attack comprising Anil Kumble, Sreesanth, L Balaji and Pragyan Ojha.

Jadeja's mother passed away in 2005 and he has been nursing her dream. "She wanted to see me in Indian colours. Losing her was the saddest moment of my life." The young boy has fulfilled his promise.

It didn't get off to a great start, though. Sanath Jayasuriya cut one hard at Jadeja, reputed to be a fine fielder, but he clanged it. It must have upset the boy but he willed on. And he had a mini-redemption with a run out. Farveez Maharoof had turned a ball past square leg and
immediately called for two. He shouldn't have, because Jadeja hared in from the deep and fired in a flat, fast and accurate throw at the bails.

The attention swung to his batting. When he walked in, Jadeja's partner was his captain. He didn't pick a couple of deliveries from Ajantha Mendis but with a little bit of help from Mahendra Singh Dhoni, he improved and started to look the part.

With a reputation of being able to hit a long ball on the domestic circuit, Jadeja's best shot today was a delicate late cut. Jayasuriya fired in a 97kph delivery skidding from a length around the off stump. Jadeja was initially on the front foot but pressed back quickly to play a deft shot. It was the second of his five boundaries but the best of the lot.

Shane Warne, his IPL captain, may well have texted him. "We identified him as a special talent straight away," Warne said back then. Shane Watson too was impressed. "He was hitting it wherever he wanted, against bowlers of the quality of Brett Lee."

In domestic cricket, Jadeja has often thrown his wicket away, going for the big shots. In a quarterfinal game in 2006 against Mumbai, 13 runs short of his maiden hundred, he gave it away with a slog sweep. Shitanshu Kotak, his senior team-mate in Saurashtra, called him a
gadha (donkey) in jest for the next few days. Jadeja simply laughed, then. Today, he didn't throw it away. The captain was happy.

Jadeja might have done enough to get himself a seat on a certain flight to New Zealand.

When you visit the Tamil Union Club house at the P Sarvanamuttu Stadium, a huge portrait of Don Bradman walking out to toss in 1948 with a Sri Lankan legend, Mahadevan Sathasivam, welcomes you.

Sathasivam is revered by the old timers in India for the 215 he made in just over four hours at the MA Chidambaram Stadium, considered one of the best knocks played in Chennai. The local legend here talks of a 96 out of a total of 150 on a sticky wicket against the visiting Commonwealth team. Frank Worrell, who played in that game, and Garry Sobers hailed Sathasivam as a great batsman. Ghulam Ahmed, that wizard of an offspinner who bowled to the likes of Everton Weekes, Sobers, Len Hutton, Rohan Kanhai, Denis Compton and Hanif Mohammad, also named Sathasivam as the best batsman he had ever bowled to. For the cricket history buffs, Sathasivam would breeze into a World XI from the non-Test playing era.

Enough about his batting. It's the man we are interested in. He apparently was a flamboyant figure with a penchant for the good life. The Keith Miller of Sri Lanka. Historian Michael Roberts plays killjoy though. "And subsequently Neville Jayaweera has confirmed this speculation: "Satha was a hopeless fielder, never chased a ball, dropped catches and all because for most of the time he was drunk," Roberts wrote. I am beginning to like Satha even more.

However the point Roberts, who also rates Sathasivam as a great batsman, raised is that you have to be careful about setting bad examples to the current generation, when talking about tales of past cricketers hitting hundreds after drinking through the night. For what it's worth, his fielding might have suffered, but Sathasivam did hit hundreds after partying through the night.

There is one more twist in Sathasivam’s colorful story, though. He was charged with murdering his wife with an 'ammi kal', a cylindrical grinding-stone, and was put in jail, where he was met by a visiting West Indian team that is said to have included Sobers and Worrell. After a widely followed trial where Dr Colvin R de Silva, a high-profile attorney, proved that it was a servant in the house who was the culprit, Sathasivam was released and carried from the court on the shoulders of his fans.

Sathasivam’s friend, Alfred Gogerly Moragoda, a distinguished civil servant, gives us a glimpse into the character of the man. While in jail, Sathasivam asked whether Alfred's wife thought he was the murderer. Alfred confessed that his wife and her friends did think Sathasivam was guilty. When he was leaving, Sathasivam asked him to pass on a message to his wife. "Tell her she is next on the list!"

	The only way to travel © Getty Images

The morning Kingston traffic can make travelling to the ground a bit of a challenge and it's never easy to judge quite how long it will take. Unless, that is, you can find yourself a police escort.

As I pulled into the car park of the Hilton hotel to pick up a colleague on the way to the third day, the England team – complete with cricket's two most expensive players in Kevin Pietersen and Andrew Flintoff – had just boarded their coach. At the front was a police car and outrider motorbike cop with lights already flashing. My driver spotted his opportunity and raced back around to his driver's seat. "Let's get behind them," he said.

Then our first moment of good fortune. The coach had moved about 100 metres when he got held up at a corner by two people-carriers blocking the way. Neither driver appeared in a great hurry to move until the policeman switched on his sirens. The large coach eased around the bend, but there was no such caution from our taxi as we swung around the corner and skipped in front of another car. A poor man walking on the opposite side, minding his own business in the morning sunshine, got the shock of his life.

Seconds later we hurtled out of the hotel driveway, not taking much heed of any oncoming traffic, and only had one other car between us and the England coach. Then another moment of luck, as that car immediately turned left into one of the adjacent hotels. So it was now the police car, team coach and us. Talk about slipstreaming.

And it just got better. Two hotels down from the Hilton is the Pegasus (infamous, of course, for the scene of Bob Woolmer's death during the 2007 World Cup) where the West Indies team were staying. As we sped past, their team coach came onto the main road accompanied by its own set of police escorts. Now we were sandwiched in the middle. It was almost as though it had been planned.

Traffic was parted as the police vehicles made a path for the teams. This must be what being President or Prime Minister feels like. At one stage even a red light wasn't an issue as the foot was put to the floor. Quickly the West Indies bus gained on us and their outrider scooted past, no doubt unsure about the extra vehicle in the convoy.

He gave a quick glance into our taxi, but our driver was in no mood to heed and just kept his foot down. People walking down the street started to wave at us (well, they were probably waving at the players, but why spoil a good story?) and suddenly the ground was in view.

Getting this far would have been good enough, but what was the point in stopping now? The England coach turned into a side street that runs parallel to Sabina Park and we followed, soon to be joined by West Indies. The previous day we had to be dropped outside the gates as we weren't let through, but today the barriers remained open and in we went.

Door-to-door time: eight minutes. It's the way to travel. I could have had a lie in.

"Tidy but excitable behind the stumps." That's how BBC profiles Romesh Kaluwitharana. I meet him sitting behind a corporate desk now. The cabin has a lovely view of the serene Beira Lake, with the blue-roofed Seema Malakaya temple sitting gently on its waters which wind around tall business buildings and a picturesque ground in the heart of Colombo. "Little Kalu", the darling of the crowds and excitable commentators, is now a business executive with Sri Lanka tourism. He still looks supremely fit and now sports a designer hair style, with hair strands running down in thin lines towards his forehead. He is attired in formals and looks pretty natty indeed.

Everyone knows that Kaluwitharana, known for his feisty cuts and pulls, was a very attacking batsman but he prided himself for being a correct player. Asked once what gave him most pleasure among his achievements, he said: "That I never played a reverse sweep all my life. I always played correct cricket."

He displayed that technique in ample measure during the series that he stormed into public memory. Everyone knows how Kaluwitharana formed an explosive opening combination with Sanath Jayasuriya during the victorious 1996 World Cup campaign. But it was on the controversial tour of Australia, where Muttiah Muralitharan was no balled for throwing, that he made a name for himself as an opener, shredding the bowlers.

During the tour, instead of cricket discussions the team suddenly found itself meeting lawyers instead. "The focus was not on cricket. Arjuna Ranatunga did a great job of getting the team united to play in the ODIs," Kaluwitharana said. After a few games, the team management decided to send Kaluwitharana to open. "I had done it before in 1991 against New Zealand. I only scored 14 but from 12 balls."

However, in this series, Kaluwitharana struck gold and earned the nickname "Little Kalu". "I got three Man-of-the Match awards and grabbed my chance," he said The first person Kaluwitharana called after winning the trophy was his mother. He lost his father when he was seven and it was his mother who supported him to play cricket. And she was ailing then. "She was suffering from Parkinson's disease. She was very proud of my achievements."

The talk shifts to batting with Jayasuriya. "Sanath doesn't talk much in the middle. He would say, 'Play tight. Play tight'. We attacked from both ends. Sometimes when Sanath was going really well I would take singles and watch the great player bat."

How did he manage to incense the Australians? "When Shane Warne and the other Aussies would say something, I would reply in Sinhalese. They wouldn't understand and go mad and say, why you don't say something in English. I might be even saying I love you in Sinhalese with an angry face or say something else with a smiling face. It was real good fun."

He hit a fifty in his last Test in 2004 before retiring. He thought life would get less busy but instead it got more demanding. Kalu wakes up every day at 4.45 am, hits the office gym at 5.45 and is in his seat at 7.30. He works till 3.30 pm before heading to the ground to coach. And in the evening, he is busy managing his pet project, a boutique hotel called Kalu's Hideaway, situated in Udawalle.

He shows me some pretty pictures of the hotel on his laptop. "I learned to use the computer after I left cricket. I would say the job is easier for me than a normal person. I am in PR and sales. Sometimes, with new clients we talk cricket for a while before moving to business.

"When I took off the gloves I did it with lots of happiness. I had my plans for what I would do later." Kalu's BBC profile needs to be updated: the "excitable" wicketkeeper is tidy and calm behind the corporate desk at least.

One of clearest signs of the decline in West Indies cricket has been the fall in attendances at Test matches. In years gone by the grounds would have been packed out with vocal home support, supplemented by boat and plane loads of English tourists to cheer on the visitors.

The latter still remain and there has been a steady stream arriving into Kingston over the last few days, but the home support is threatening to vanish – at least inside the ground. Of course this isn't a problem solely in West Indies, but it is because the passionate crowds were once such a part of the Caribbean experience that it is felt so noticeably.

"They are not very encouraging," was how Donald Peters, the chief executive of the West Indies cricket board, bluntly explained tickets sales during the series launch. He wouldn't give an exact figure, but the signs on the first day were that take-up hadn't been great. However, a few more filtered in during the day and pre-sold tickets have never been a big thing here, as the World Cup showed in 2007. People like to decide on the day and walk-up, but less are choosing to these days.

The board will let school children in free – and there are two schools behind the main scoreboard side of the ground, so let's hope they are allowed to bunk off early – but have not yet decided whether to drop the ticket prices which currently range from JAM$800 to JAM$2,400 (£10-£30) per day.

Since the ground was redeveloped for the World Cup there are now vast concrete stands at either end. They are impressive structures with excellent facilities, but it now means that it looks very obvious when there aren't many people in and it creates a poor image for the game.

On the plus side, the series sponsors have struck a deal to allow free radio coverage of the match. Listening to the action on headsets inside the ground has always been popular in West Indies, but in recent times some matches have not been given ball-by-ball coverage.

While it is important that West Indies continue to show improvement in their performances to attract an audience, the game also needs to be made as accessible to the public as possible.

It was 11.45pm last night when some of us journalists walked into the bar where we bumped into the India team celebrating the series win. They were in full strength. On one side of the dimly lit bar, which shook with loud Hindi film remixes, a few cricketers were playing pool. Some drank, some didn't.

Yuvraj and the young brigade led by Rohit Sharma, Ishant Sharma, Suresh Raina and Pragyan Ojha had already begun shaking a leg. Sehwag and Gambhir parked themselves at one table with Gary Kirsten; Sachin Tendulkar was having a long chat with Paddy Upton. Mahendra Singh Dhoni was everywhere.

Suddenly, the Tamil song, Manmada Raasa blared out and a whistle rang through the room. It was L Balaji at work. Slowly, the dancers dragged everybody on the floor at various points - even Kirsten, who responded by vigorously shaking every limb, and Upton were not spared. Tendulkar never let himself completely loose but swayed around rhythmically. Sameer Dighe, the former India wicketkeeper, was there too and played pool with Tendulkar. Cries of cheating went up and now then from Dighe. Those gathered around the pool table laughed.

Some journalists approached Dhoni for permission to photograph the team celebrating. "No, yaar. Let them celebrate peacefully. I just want them to enjoy the moment."

Fair enough.

I don’t remember any of Brendon Kuruppu’s shots. However, as a kid, I scored lots of runs playing as Kuruppu in hard-fought games in the backyard, on the terrace and sometimes even in the living room. My brother and I often played as international teams, 11 Gaaji was the name of the game, and Kuruppu was lucky for me when I played as Sri Lanka. Kuruppu was also one of the first Sri Lankan names I learnt from the grainy Doordarshan footage. I loved the way the name rolled of my tongue, I thought it was funny. And so I was thrilled when I learnt that he was the manager of the Sri Lankan team.

Kuruppu still looks the same from when I remember him – lean and sporting a thick moustache. He was an aggressive opening batsman who made a name for himself as one of the pioneers of hitting the new ball over the inner circle. “I was one of the first batsmen to go over the top,” Kuruppu said. “Kris Srikkanth was almost parallel, or just after me, in India. I thought it would be easier to score runs that way. I was not doing that in school and club cricket but later on I felt this would be a better way." He recalls one of his aggressive moments. "It was the World Cup game against Pakistan in 1983. I hit Mudassar Nazar over long-on, a long way out of the ground on to the road."

However, it was not a rapid innings but the slowest double hundred in the history of the game that we ended up talking about. Kuruppu, the dashing wicket-keeper batsman, crawled through 777 minutes and faced 548 balls against New Zealand in Colombo to become the first Sri Lankan to score a double-century. He was only the third batsman after Tip Foster and Lawrence Rowe to hit a double-century on his debut.

Kuruppu made his Test debut after four years of one-day cricket. "I had to prove that I was not only an attacking player but could also defend." Poor New Zealand had to pay the price. There was another reason as well. "One of the high-ranking board officials told me after my selection, 'You were picked not because you are good, but because the other keepers aren’t scoring runs'. Kuruppu had hit three consecutive hundreds in provincial games just before selection. "If that is not good, then I don't know what is good. Anyway I had to prove myself."

For a man under pressure, he slept well before the game. Next morning, on a pitch with even bounce, he dug in against the likes of Richard Hadlee and Ewen Chatfield. "Hadlee used to run through our line-up,” he said. “Apart from Roy Dias and Ranjan Madugalle, not many had faced him comfortably."

Kuruppu eased along slowly and, egged on by team-mates like Asanka Gurusinha during the breaks, he kept batting. He went past 100, 150 and only when he reached 189 did he feel nervous for the first time. "191 was the highest score by a Sri Lankan – Sidath Wettimuny against England at Lord's – and we were nine wickets down."

Kosala Kuruppuarachchi, who had not scored a single run in his only Test, walked out to the middle. "Hang in there. Let me get these three runs," Kuruppu told him. "Don't worry,” Kuruppuarachchi replied. “I will stay till you get the double hundred." The thought of 200 had not yet entered Kuruppu's mind.

"It was amazing. Hadlee and Chatfield kept hitting him [Kuruppuarachchi] on the body but he never gave up. I still remember those last 13 runs. I was really tense." Kuruppuarachchi didn't score a run during his 35-minute stay, and that was his last Test, but it must have been the best duck he had ever made.

Finally, after four years, Kuruppu had proved to the board official and to the rest of the world that he was a Test player. "I was in the field for all five days and there was not a
single bye. I showed that there was nothing for anyone to point a finger at me."

However, he couldn't really cherish the moment. On the evening of the final day of the Test, a bomb exploded in the central bus stand of Colombo. The second Test was in doubt. New Zealand were not willing to travel to Kandy. "The board even videotaped the whole road journey from Colombo to Kandy to show that it was safe but the New Zealand players were shell-shocked by the incident and cancelled the tour."

Sri Lanka got to play only four Tests in the next four years and Kuruppu decided to retire in 1991 due to lack of cricket and selection problems. Ironically, Sri Lanka played 12 Tests in 1992. "That was indeed very frustrating. Anyway that's done and gone."

Couple of years after that special double-century, Kuruppu ran into Hadlee and Chatfield. "Have you ever got out after that?" they asked. Kuruppu laughed then and laughs now. "The New Zealand players remembered me as the guy who they couldn't get out for two and half days."

"You will be playing him?" Murali asks Venkatesh Prasad about L Balaji. "Hey Bala, full toss for me ok!"

A short while earlier, Murali's eyes had almost goggled out when he saw his IPL team-mate Balaji sitting at the breakfast table. "Hey what are you doing here? Are you here as a commentator?" Balaji laughed and explained the real reason. Murali, still not convinced, checks with Praveen Kumar, who explains Munaf Patel has gone back to India.

Murali’s eyes light up and he joins the table. "So a great domestic season, eh? And how is the action now? Same? What new tricks have you added?" The questions keep coming and Balaji tries his best to match Murali's rapid-fire Tamil. Both share their IPL memories and continue their conversation, which is punctuated by constant laughter.

Ravindra Jadeja joins in and Murali asks him, "Hey, any changes in your IPL team? Is Shane Watson playing? Good player," before he purses his lip while his right wrist delivers an offbreak, suggesting Watson can be a bit iffy against spin.

"So coming in April [to India for IPL]," asks Balaji. "Yeah. Batsman's game. I am in good batting form now," says Murali. Praveen and Balaji laugh.

Balaji was in Mumbai, about to leave for a pilgrimage when he got the news of his selection. Couple of flights later he eased into Colombo last night. From then on, it's been a happy reunion with team-mates. He is back in the national squad after three torturous years, recuperating with injuries but has shown an admirable mental strength to fight his way back.

Prasad drops in the table. "Welcome back Bala." Gary Kirsten drops by with a couple of forms for Balaji to sign. Farveez Maharoof, Dilhara Fernando and Nuwan Kulasekara offer their congratulations and best wishes.

"Hindi bol leta hai yeh?" [Can he speak Hindi?] I ask Praveen. "Haan haan kar leta hai bhai." [Yes he can manage] And Balaji assures, "Teek taak hindi bol leta hoon yaar. I didn't learn in school but picked up while playing." The leg-pulling and laughter continue as one by one the other members of Indian and Sri Lankan squad drop in to welcome Bala.

Blizzards, drifting snow, blocked roads. Ah, the joys of an English winter. What a difference 10 hours makes (or maybe it was the 4500 miles) as our plane descends into Norman Manley Airport with the stunning backdrop of the Blue Mountains. Welcome to Jamaica.

The flight nearly didn't happen. And given the fact that Britain seizes up at the merest hint of the white stuff, it's something of a miracle that it did. The cabin crew had to be scrambled from "anyone who came through door" as the captain bluntly put it. One of them was meant to be going to Manchester, another to Heathrow and another to Barbados. But for those bound for Kingston, we were just grateful they found enough to get our flight off the ground (with the help of the de-icers).

Away from the selfish factor of needing to make it to the first Test on time, the happiest people on the plane were the healthy number of England fans who had battled through the weather to make the airport on time. There was a good smattering of Barmy Army, wearing the T-shirts of previous overseas adventures, who by the time we were half way across the Atlantic were starting up conversations with the locals on board. The consensus – England might not have it all their own way.

About thirty minutes before landing, the captain urged anyone who was interested to look out the right hand side windows for a glimpse at Guantanamo Bay. Not something that will be on the sightseeing list of many England fans, but there was still a mad dash to one side of the plane – but, unlike in the movies, the aircraft stayed perfectly upright.

Going to the Caribbean is one of the few cricketing destinations (from the UK) where you travel east to west, therefore earning yourself a few extra hours. The warm sun was still shining as a plane load of Brits, many with winter jackets now flung over their shoulders, trooped to the taxi ranks.

And so the adventure begins. For some it will be a week-long trip, others the holiday of a lifetime and for some the experience of life on tour. Expect another influx of supporters for the Antigua and Barbados Tests, but bare a thought for a few unlucky fans who missed Monday's flight as they were stuck in snowdrifts on the M25. They are due to arrive into Monetgo Bay and transfer to Kingston on Tuesday, just in time for the Test, but that all depends on the snow stopping. Now, where's that sunblock.

What do the Indian players do on a Sunday evening during a tour? Some like Sachin Tendulkar, Yuvraj Singh and Suresh Raina go to watch the movie Victory, which premiered here a couple of days ago..

The film’s stars have been in the team hotel for the last two days. All I can tell you about Amrita Rao, the heroine, is that she made me hit the gym. I peep in but head out immediately. Fat men don't run.

Ravindra Jadeja comes out of the gym sweating, munching an apple. “Didn't go for the movie?” I ask. "Nah boss,” he says. Jadeja is desperately keen to play in the series but is realistic about his chances. "The team might want to win the series first before giving chances to the likes of me."

Jadeja is in awe of Shane Warne, his captain at the Rajasthan Royals. So what's so special about him? "Everything,” Jadeja says. “He put everyone at ease and he was a brilliant captain, making some great decisions on the field. Small things, the way he encouraged us to play our natural games, helped us grow in confidence. Warne is a gem of a person. I really enjoyed the time with him in IPL. Graeme Smith was also good, very professional, and I learnt a lot."

Has Warne taught him how to text better and faster as well? Jadeja laughs. At least drink? More laughs. "I don't drink,” he says. “There used to be beers and drinks flowing in the IPL parties. I never touched them." Not even one itsy bitsy gulp? "No!" Let's see in two years boss! "Arre, I didn't drink playing with Warne, so I don't see a problem with our cricketers!"

Has he spent time with Sachin Tendulkar? "Yeah I have spoken [to him] but I would like to sit down and have a proper chat sometime during this series."

Jadeja adds, "If and when I get a chance, I will make sure I play my natural game." When you are a teenager and rub shoulders with Tendulkar and Warne, the future can’t help but appear rosy.