“Ugandans – thousands of ’em”

Despite John Colley’s best Michael Caine impersonation, the official figure was around 500. But, as they say in journalism “never let the truth get in the way of a good story”, though in my case I’d like to reassure you that it’s said with irony.

We turned up at Soroti sports ground fearing that we would be overwhelmed. In the end it wasn’t a day for breaking CWB records, but was an extremely successful one.

Besides the genuine enthusiasm from the children, who smiled from start to finish, what was especially encouraging was the way the 60 Ugandan teachers embraced everything that went on and got stuck in. Today was about ABC (T) and every session was used to reinforce that important message. We were able to discuss HIV/AIDS, and children and adults alike reinforced that.

I have to confess that as we got the carousel going in the afternoon I changed the chant for my groups (who were being sent to John Colley) from “A-B-C!” to “We-hate-West Brom!” But, and I know in CWB circles this is controversial, I like to think I was just teaching another important life lesson.

The day started badly. Our esteemed leader, Paul Rowe, seemed to be spending a lot of time in the toilet. For a time I thought we might have to send him to Mbale hospital to be put on a drip. But my years of travel experience kicked in; the second Immodium did the job and by the end of the day Mr Rowe was taking solids again.

Tomorrow we’ll talk more about the Soroti Cricket Academy. Peter and Emmanuel (a future Prime Minister surely?) have been the most amazing hosts, and are so well organised that they’re in danger of permanently changing Africa’s reputation.

There were, of course, comedy moments as well as the completely surreal. As I tried to demonstrate a game of Rapid Fire, I took an air shot. What’s worse, Jamie Burton saw it, and won’t ever let me forget.

Then there was the man who walked haphazardly across the whole sports ground, oblivious to all of the cricket going on around him, in the midday heat. He had a cardboard box on his head. There were no holes, so he couldn’t see. There was no explanation. The locals shrugged their shoulders and just carried on. But in Africa the bar for what is regarded as extraordinary is set very high.