I don’t think I’m a particularly accident-prone person. To date I haven’t broken any bones. I have rarely had cause for hospital admittance. However, somehow on our travels most times Tom or I have had an “ouch” occasion. The one with the most “remember when” moments would have to be during our cricket tour of India.

I am a huge cricket fan, and a life-long dream is to follow the test cricket calendar to watch matches all around the world. Sadly, in these COVID times and beyond, this is more unlikely than it was some years ago.

We also had never been to India, so it seemed an excellent choice to join an organised tour to watch cricket and tour some famous landmarks. It certainly was a very memorable trip, albeit short, and I’m sure there will be further anecdotes based around our travel in India.

We joined an organised cricket tour through Premium Sports Tours (highly recommended) part way through the 4-test series Australia vs. India in 2017. As I only had limited days of leave, we were only going to one 5-day test plus the cultural tour for several days.

On to the cricket. The test we went to see was at Ranchi, a little-known city. Have you heard of it? The only person I came across, even in India, who had any connection with it was the security pat-down lady at Delhi airport “Oh, that’s my home-town.” Interesting how even the airport security is divided female/male sections.

Speaking of security, the checkpoint as we entered the cricket ground seemed to be made of wood. And not plugged in to anything …? The ladies on the tour weren’t even scanned/frisked, as there were no female staff at that gate to do so!

With the prospect of five days of cricket ahead, I had come prepared with numerous scoresheet pages to scribe the ball-by-ball play. Yes, people actually do this. Being on a hosted tour, we were comfortably placed in a couple of hospitality boxes; room for around 20 seated in each. TV coverage was provided, which meant any distraction to the play could be caught up on the replay.

Noting the ball-by-ball play called for quite a bit of concentration. The after-tea session was a little challenging. As the room warmed with the sun and after a provided meal, a nap was on the agenda for several of our group. I persevered as much as possible!

If a bathroom stop was urgently needed outside of cricket drinks breaks/lunch/tea; then the scoresheets were handed over to a reliable colleague to note as much as possible, for as short a time as possible. A few of our group would go for walks in various sections of the stadium – again we did that in the programmed breaks so as not to miss any of the play.

Towards the end of the third day, Tom decided to sit in the seats just outside our glassed-in box. A good idea for that after-food tired time of the day. Good for fresh air and to avoid sleepiness. The Aussies were in a bit of a not-very-inspiring time of the innings and a loss, or at best a draw, was beginning to look inevitable. Time to go for a walk and take in some atmosphere.

I stayed and was very focussed on the game, recording the scores. I thought to myself, hmmm, Tom should be back soon, only a couple of overs to go and then it will be the end-of-the-day’s-play rush from the hospitality area back to the bus – always a bit crowded.

A quick glance – ah yes, he’s returned from his walk. I heard a faint “Louie … Louie …”, no, shhh, I’m concentrating – don’t interrupt me in the last over as I just need to write down these few balls …

Then I heard other voices “Is that blood?” “Do you need a Band-Aid” “Are you OK”. I still didn’t realise that Tom had returned in a state of injury!

We had noticed that the steps outside the front of the hospitality box windows were at an awkward height – probably wouldn’t pass Australian standards. A good height if you are using them to sit on, indeed several Indian lands were sitting just where Tom was trying to walk. Tom went to avoid a lad, he moved at the same time, Tom stepped awkwardly, and Ouch! That flimsy sandal isn’t protecting that big toe at all! Especially considering the sharply edged concrete nature of the step.

Tom hobbled back in. I ignored him until the end of the match. Then looked and realised that his left big toe was pretty bad! And the shin. Oh, and the knee. Tried to wash them clean, dabbed with tissues. Didn’t have Band-Aids – we weren’t allowed to bring bags/handbags into the stadium – I had even smuggled my pens for scoring in my pockets … dangerous weapons, pens are.

Tom managed to hobble back awkwardly and painfully to the bus. Back in the hotel we washed and disinfected the injuries as best as possible. I only had one decent sized Band-Aid. It should be OK; the hotel will have a first aid kit! Yes, it did, but all it had in it seemed to be some half used small bottles of Dettol, a couple of daggy cotton buds, and a stash of a variety of tablets left behind by years of guests. No Band-Aids or bandages of any size. Incredible, and not particularly helpful!

Tom hobbled for the remaining four days of the trip. And even now, more than four years later, he can still feel the pain at times. It’s probably still broken. And did I care? No, but I did get the scores recorded. Oh, and the scoresheets signed by the umpires of the match!