The tour that never was
Day 3 After a day shopping we hit the nets. For a while we are pretty impressed with our efforts and then a local school turns up and starts practising alongside. It is quickly clear that their 11-year-olds are far better in every department than us. Our captain, who fancies himself as being quick, sidles over and offers to bowl at a kid barely higher than the stumps. The first half-volley fizzes back past the skipper at knee height. He feigns a back injury and sulks. We retreat from battle, the mocking laughter of the children ringing in our ears. Our one slow bowler develops the yips after three balls and refuses to play again.
Day 8 Almost all of us travel south to the beach resort of Bentota, the exception being our captain who is so ill that he has to remain behind, refusing to leave his hotel room despite the pleas of the staff that they need his room. He adds to his own misery by misreading the instructions on the packet of Imodium and taking 18 rather than the suggested two. We make the most of the beach, and later the captain’s absence to hold a late-night fines session.
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