The wandering men.
This year, each tourist was asked to keep a diary and each tour day is presented here from three different perspectives, chosen randomly and without revealing their identities.
Day 1: Mystery Tourist Number 1
A bunch of goddam limies met me and Charlie in a backwater bar about forty miles from nowhere. 'Come watch the cricket' said Charlie, who for some goddam reason gets called 'Duke' round these parts. They stuff their faces with pies and beer before playing, so whatever kinda sport cricket thinks it is, it sure attracts alcoholics.
Game off, first goddam day! Don't they plan this crap for summer? Charlie and me got lost after some dude called Rory blocked us in the car park before speeding away. Uncool. The rest of the limies played a game among themselves and Sachin got bowled by Lando for a golden duck whatever the hell that means. Some bum called Ed Swamp or something should have won it - they fined each other for playing badly, some dude called Tom even got fined for not getting fined! Sounds a bit commie to me.
They walk their asses for two miles, taking in some butthole joints that looked surprised to see anyone walk in. The jukebox had some surprises, who knew Blackbox had more than one hit? We get into some one horse town called Taunton and we drink even more before heading to a place called Mambo's with these boys dressed in the same goddam T-shirts failing with chicks on Tinder! They should know a girl ain't got no interest in chat about 'marking the crease.'
I came to think cricket is just a bunch of rednecks drinking and left them to their crap - some nightclub called Zinc saw Tom getting punched and Charlie and the crew getting back to my room at three goddam am just to show me their Johnsons. Get me back to the US, Trump seems sane compared to these folks.
Game off? We'll have one ourselves.
Tinder pose.
Knockers warming up for Zinc.
Rory gets in the Tinder spirit.
Sachin, Duke & Ed.
Action shot.
Ed & Freddie.
Knockers boy band auditions go well.
Pad rash.
Day 2: Mystery Tourist Number 2
The game was at 2pm so I got up a 1:57 to give myself time to get there. Lynden the bastard sat it out. I hit twenty off the first over which was alright I suppose and Stu holed out sending in some other people, Christ knows who they are. I got a ton which was alright I suppose and didn't have to field which was alright I suppose. We probably won.
Marsh went to hospital, probably due to an overdose of Sainsbury's meal deals, and we went into Taunton which was alright. Tom wound up in high viz in the bar, some weird boxer bloke kept hugging us, Rory walked back on the M5 with a traffic cone on his head and Calver ripped off a layer of skin trying to go down a slide naked. Fun. Probably.
The Prof makes it to breakfast.
Knockers get ready for the match.
Tom shows off his shiner.
Freddie up for the game.
Rory and Gez.
Hard tour.
Watch out ladies.
Traffic officers.
Your room or mine?
Day 3: Mystery Tourist Number 3
Woke up with various Knockers strewn across my floor and traffic guidance paraphernalia in the toilet. Threw up and had another beer. Freddie slept in his pads in the corridor. Get to the pub and the ladylady is Basil Fawlty after a sex change. Fill out five 'I think this is pub of the year' forms just so I can be allowed to leave her establishment for the match. Spend the afternoon falling over. No wickets and Ed Springett is a gun. Take me home (after another beer).
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