That Nice West Indian Boy

It was mere coincidence that during my stay on this lovely island that there would be an opportunity to attend a cricket Test match featuring my beloved West Indies. The venue was Galle, an old colonial town further south from where I was staying in Kalutara.

I took a tuk tuk from the Mermaid hotel to the station, south of Kalutara. The ride was an experience. The journey which would normally take 20 minutes took 10. I had informed the driver that I was West Indian supporting my team in the first Test match in Galle. The driver dressed in a sarong could not have been more excited for me. In his broken English he replied that his hero was Vivian Richards and he loved Carribean cricket. He made sure that I did not miss my 8.05 express train to Galle. We weaved in and out of traffic with such speed and precision that Lewis Hamilton would be put to shame. He even got my ticket for me when we arrived to the station. I over heard him say to the ticket master please make sure that this nice West Indian boy gets a nice window seat.

The 90 minute journey was eventful. A group of young boys dressed in immaculate white shirts and trousers with polished black shoes sat beside and opposite me. Like me they were going to Galle to watch the cricket. They began singing with one playing the bongos. It lasted the whole duration of the train ride.

An old man tried to join the school boy vocalists by singing out of tune which was not helped by him banging a plastic box at the same time. It was not at all surprising when he tried to asked for a monetary reward for his efforts from the passengers that he got zilch. Sri Lankans are discerning folk. They can distinguish shit from gold and the old man's performance fell definitely in the shit category.

The ground was only a 5 minute walk from the station. I said farewell to the boys in white and I made my way to the Galle Test arena. It cost a thousand rupees (£5) entrance fee. With that you got a lovely seat with a wonderful view of the play. Accompanying this was the flat screen TVs dotted around where  I was located. Thus if you were tired of watching the game live you could go to the bar and watch the game there whist drinking a cold Lion beer. Although the Windies were being soundly taken to the cleaners by the host nation I enjoyed my day at the cricket. This is one I can take off my bucket list, watching Test match cricket in a foreign land.

At the close of play I walked around Galle, the old Dutch colonial town. I ventured up the fortress. The view from the ramparts was magnificent. Galle is as beautiful as West Indies were woeful. They followed on still 189 runs behind with 8 wickets remaining.

I missed the train home and got a bus back to the Kalutara station. The same tuk tuk driver was waiting for me as I arrived. He already knew the Test score. He commiserated saying the Windies would mount a fight back.

Neither he or I really believed that would happen taking into account past Windies performances. I had a fun day out in Galle only spoilt by the cricket on display. This West Indian boy can't have it all.