Heckled in Adelaide, cruising in Perth
Our correspondent is charmed by the rivers Torrens and Swan, and enjoys the public transport system in Australia even when things go wrong

The Torrens River: placid at most times • UniversalImagesGroup
There is one conveyor belt for international arrivals at Adelaide airport. Coming from the huge terminals in Mumbai and Singapore, it feels cramped. Then you get out of the airport. Massive paved open space outside.
Dash for the bus. Think it is one of those free ones. Also seem to have heard driver confirming that. Go and sit in the back. Driver waits. "So are we buying one?" Realise this is not a free ride. Sheepishly walk back up. Ticket now has to be put into a validation machine. Push it in the wrong way. Then push it in the correct way, but hold on to it longer than needed. Ticket gets stuck. Machine gets jammed. "Jesus," goes driver. Takes off his seat belt. Hauls himself up his seat slowly. Tries to retrieve ticket. No success. Mutters something about hope and settles into seat again. "Why don't you just walk?" some exasperated passengers call out. Hold my hands up in apology. Bus finally moves.
This has become a nice routine. Walk from hotel to West Terrace tram stop. Get down two stops later at Adelaide Railway Station. Walk through the concourse. Cross the bridge. We're at Adelaide Oval. The new ground seems so much more intimidating, so unlike the old one remembered from TV broadcasts and photos. Like Eden Park.
It is a scorcher today. The walk across the Torrens involves being lashed in the face with hot air. Melinda Farrell, one of ESPNcricinfo's video correspondents, is dragging herself along, pulled down by the weight of all her equipment. "Are you Melinda?" "Yes." "Can I help you with your equipment?" "You don't have to, but yes, thank you." Nice way to meet a colleague for the first time.
It is still morning, and the madness has already built up for India v Pakistan. Streets leading towards the ground filled with people chanting slogans, singing songs, shouting in general. Australian man plonks down a large bundle at an intersection and starts selling team t-shirts, caps, vuvuzuelas, the works. Enterprise always comes along with India v Pakistan.
"Any buses for Manuka?" I ask at Canberra airport. Nope. The Australia capital does not do public transport too well.
Canberra's streets are like those in some New Zealand town. On the 15-minute walk to the ground, you are lucky if you spot more than a person or two. Some good cafés, bars and restaurants close to the ground, though.
Before the start of the game, spot an Afghanistan supporter wearing shalwar kameez and a Bangladesh one wearing a lungi. After the game, spot a possum on the stairs outside the press box. Creature slithers away as I try to get a closer look.
First sighting of the MCG. The outfield is huge by itself, but it is still dwarfed by the scale of those magnificent stands.
White Night, a big cultural event. Spectacular motion illuminations projected onto buildings in the city centre. There is even one from Alice in Wonderland. Walkways across the river are packed. Takes nearly half an hour to get across.
MCG is a short walk across Yarra Park from my hotel but I take the tram to the city centre on India v South Africa match day. And walk back along the river to the MCG. Cloudy skies make it a greater pleasure. As you cross the William Barak bridge, on which music from many countries is played, the MCG appears to your left, Rod Laver Arena to your right, separated just by train and tram tracks. Surreal.
Have heard a lot about the heat in Australia, and Adelaide did give a sampler, but Perth wins hands down first day with 41 degrees. A short walk feels like your insides will boil over. Turns out to be just a rude welcome, as Perth produces several lovely days. Mild, sunny, windy.
At the eastern corner of the city centre, close to the Swan River, the WACA Ground stands proud against the backdrop of a fiery setting sun. It is deserted barring the odd employee. Best time to soak the image into your soul for a lifetime. The square. The outfield. The stands. The grassbanks. The dressing rooms. The old scoreboard. Those floodlight towers.
Walk down to the riverfront from the ground. The Swan River turns into an estuary in Perth and is 4.5km at its widest point. Waves hit the shore gently. The sun sets in the direction of the Indian Ocean. The sky rapidly changes colour. The lights in the skyscrapers come on. The size of the river adds to the grandeur of the scene.
Annalakshmi on the Swan, a south Indian vegetarian restaurant by the river jetty, becomes a favourite. Eat as much as you can, pay what you want to. Inspired by their spiritual guru, volunteers run the place. And the food is awesome. The taste of the mixed vegetable curry reminds you of the one at Ramanayak, a popular eatery in Matunga in Mumbai.
"I don't get it when people say Perth is a small city," says old security guard at the WACA. "It does not have too many tall buildings. But if you see, there are lots that are ten to 12 storeys high. And it is a really spread-out city too." Perth feels similar to Adelaide in that sense. The city centre looks smaller, though, and most of it shuts down earlier.
The India v UAE game lasts just a little longer than one ODI innings. Mohammad Tauqir gets his press conference done with soon. We wait for MS Dhoni. And wait. India decide to play a game of football, and the captain is in the middle of the action. The India media manager watches from the sidelines. The ICC media manager tries to tell him people with deadlines are waiting, but gives up eventually. About an hour after he should have, Dhoni walks in. Not a single word from anyone about the delay.
Tour of Fremantle. Before that, the bus takes you up to King's Park from where you can see how Perth stretches all around the Swan estuary. The wind blowing in from the Indian Ocean takes the name of the port town it passes through: Fremantle. Endearing little town centre. Old churches, synagogue, prison, markets, brewery. Take a cruise back up the river to Perth.
Somalian cab driver talks mostly about pirates during the ten-minute ride. "They don't target Indian or Pakistani ships. We have old links, are on other side of the Indian Ocean. They go for the American or Arab ones. Solid network. Very solid. They know exactly what items a ship is carrying."
Chief selector Rod Marsh and Michael Clarke stand together having a chat in the Australia nets. George Bailey watches keenly from a distance. Captain till not so long ago, now out of the XI. Finally decides to come up slowly. As he approaches, he walks carefully around Clarke while extending a swift handshake to Marsh standing further away. Awkward moment. But the two exchange half a smile after that.
Two big buses waiting to drop media personnel off at designated points in the city after the Australia-Afghanistan game. Am the only one on this trip. "There were three people before you," says the driver. Case of slight over-capacity here. He does not understand why the big eastern cities look down on Perth. Came here from Sydney himself. Has been a Perth resident for 14 years.
One final time at one of the restaurants on the riverfront, the water shimmering in the sun. As it starts to set later, ground volunteers take a lap of the WACA during the India v West Indies innings break. Perth is done with the tournament. India are done with Australia for now. After three and a half months. Dhoni is asked about the New Zealand leg.
Abhishek Purohit is a senior sub-editor at ESPNcricinfo