At Samaden, after a 23km hike, I attempted to join in a game of cricket being played by the village boys and some of our horsemen.
I ended up leaving that ball for the wee boy at long off. I had no puff left.
As the sun went down, some lads were playing on a small flat piece of ground in Rimbik.
Some lads were playing below the Zong Dhog Palri Fo Brang Monastery above Kalimpong.
I really enjoyed the third day of the third Test at Edgbaston. On the way down to Birmingham on Thursday, at one point it looked as if the game might not go into day three, and whilst listening to the commentary I found myself saying, “Oh no! Not another Aussie wicket.” In the event, the Aussies lasted out until teatime on Friday.
It was nice seeing Reg, who gets the tickets, Roger, John, Peter and Gordon again. I see them once a year at Edgbaston. After the game, they went home (they live locally), and I went down the road to a pub near the ground to await Lindsey, who had gone shopping in the centre of Birmingham. She took ages to arrive.
By the time Lindsey got to the bar with the campervan, several hours later, I’d made friends with some lovely Brummies, who were out celebrating a birthday.
The next day we drove south to the Cotswolds, one of the most beautiful parts of England, and met up with some old friends for a walk around Hidcote Manor Gardens, an extremely attractive setting.
The excuse for going to Barbados was to watch cricket at the Kensington Oval. In the event, the match in question (the first T20 of three) wasn’t even close, and England lost. However, a good time was had by all. Nice venue.
Outside the Oval
I think we were sitting behind the Trini Posse
Caro recorded the televised match, and you can just about make us out in the above.
One of the highlights of Grenada, for me, was the West Indies Cricket Heritage Centre, at the Spice Basket in Beaulieu, about two miles outside St George’s Town on the road to Grand Etang.
The young man who showed us round the cricket museum and also the natural history museum in the same building was extremely knowledgeable, polite and entertaining. I knew many of the names of the cricketers in the photographs and other artifacts, but he knew them all, and they were numerous, dating back decades. It was a delight to be shown round my someone so enthusiastic.
He caught me out, though. He asked me who was the bowler that Sobers scored six sixes off in an over, and I couldn’t at the time remember. Ten minutes later, he showed me a different scorecard for a Glamorgan team, and suggested that I might find the answer there, which I did. It was clever of him to do that, rather than simply tell me the answer.
If you like cricket, the museum is a must see. It is extensive, impressive and very well displayed in a nice building.
In my element
In the natural history part of the museum, we were fascinated by the examples of different soils and rocks in Grenada. Shaun would find these interesting.
There was an outdoor bar at the Fira de Sant Miquel, Benifato, which we automatically gravitated to, and where we enjoyed a couple of cervezas for one Euro a glass. The festival had an official photographer, whose photos we discovered would be used at the event next year, and I watched as he took shots of people with a long lens from the door of the bar.
I did the same, mostly from my chair near the bar. Most of the people are Spanish, and probably from local villages.
View of Schiehallion, taken from outside our hotel at Kinloch Rannoch
Our nice room at the Macdonald Loch Rannoch Hotel, Perthshire
The view west, from our room
We drove from Kinloch Rannoch, up to the top of Loch Rannoch, to Rannoch Station. I guess that unless you’re Scottish, that sentence is a bit of a mouthful. We were hoping for a coffee at the station, but the cafe doesn’t open on a Saturday.
One of the huts at Rannoch Station
Looking west across Rannoch Moor, towards Glencoe, which is 14 miles away
What a fantastic day I enjoyed at the ICC Champions Trophy One Day International at Edgbaston on Saturday. The drive down was fine, with no traffic holdups, the rain held off on the day of the match, and England beat Australia!
Some of the group who attend these matches at Edgbaston know their cricket, so it was revealing about the current state of the Australian team that at one stage, when I asked who was captaining Australia, no-one knew. In fact, it was GJ Bailey.
One thing which was less than perfect was the lack of replays on the big screen after each ball. It is easy to miss something live, so replays can be very important. People seemed to think that this was an ICC thing.
I forgot to blog about our visit to Dryburgh Abbey the other weekend, on the way back to Edinburgh from Ancrum. The site is maintained by Historic Scotland, and parts of it date back to the 12th Century. It is one of several abbeys in the Borders.
As well as being the resting place of Sir Walter Scott, it is where Nigel Haig is burried.
I’ve just finished reading Going Barmy: Despatches from a cricket foot soldier, by Paul Winslow.
As this book reveals, there’s much more to the Barmy Army than hour-long chants of ‘Barmy Army’ during Test Matches. The Barmy Army was the name given by the Australian press to sections of the England cricket team’s overseas supporters. They follow England wherever they play, and Paul Winslow gives an insider’s account of what it is like.
One of the happiest moments for the Barmy Army was when Mitchell Johnson was castled first ball at the Sydney Cricket Ground. As he walked out to bat, Johnson was greeted with a song the Barmy Army had composed for him. In the video below, at 2.20 you can hear this song, then at 3.25 he’s out for a duck, and the Army explodes.
At the MCG, the England team show their appreciation of the Army:
I spent a very pleasant couple of hours looking through the photos in Somerset Cricket: The Glory Years 1973-1987 by Alain Lockyer, with text by Richard Walsh.
From 1979 to 1983 Somerset won several trophies in one-day cricket, having never won any silverware before that time. The team included Joel Garner, Peter Roebuck, Vic Marks, Ian Botham, Viv Richards, Brian Rose, Peter Denning, Merv Kitchen and Dennis Breakwell. In 1986 Richards, Garner and Botham left.
The foundations of the winning team were formed in the late seventies, when Brian Close captained the side.
This book features the players, the games, the grounds, the incidents and the fans.
In 2010 I blogged about the T20 match we went to at Taunton – a great game, which even Lindsey enjoyed.