Onward to Barbados, backpack and all

As I put my backpack behind the security guards desk at the entrance to the ground I walked once more past the myriad barbeques and stalls that abound in the Antigua Recreation Ground. Stopping off for one last rum punch at Camile's stall and exhorting her to fly over to Barbados to make us some more when were there, I climbed one last time up the rickety stairs to the top tier of the Oil Stand.

This had been an emotional week and it was just about to get worse. I don't usually carry a backpack into a cricket match but my flight was leaving Antigua at 6pm and that, because of the rain delay in the morning, was when the third Test of the series was due to finish. And England, as ever, were never going to help me out by winning early and allowing me to see a victory.

Indeed I didn't miss a victory either, as I found out when the pilot announced half way through our flight that it had been a draw.

But while there is not much glory in being an England fan, following them is certainly memorable. What happened in Antigua this week was remarkable, and there was a certain irony in the fact that give them a couple of years to put on a Test match they couldn't manage it, but given two days they somehow pulled it off.

There were huge political implications of the aborted game here as conspiracy theories abounded that it had all been a plan to dethrone the ruling party in the forthcoming elections. And if the locals are passionate about politics they are also passionate about who they think should be in the West Indies team. The best comment we heard amongst their frequent arguments was that Shiv Chanderpaul was the worst batsman in world cricket.

There are some opinions that are valid, some misguided, some just nonsense. I'll leave you to work out which one that was. So onto Barbados and hopefully a nice simple Test match... and an England win.