
Mark Mason has narrated this article for you to listen to.
The first thing I do is turn my watch upside down. India is five-and-a-half hours ahead of the UK, so the trick does the conversion for you. Well, sort of – a time like 11.40 works perfectly (becoming 5.10), but anything on the half hour leaves you guessing which number the short hand should be pointing to. Still, it feels appropriate, because I learned it from Christopher Martin-Jenkins on Test Match Special, and cricket is the reason my son and I are here.
Our first match is in Jaipur, where the Rajasthan Royals host the Delhi Capitals. Ever since I was Barney’s age (14) I’ve wanted to visit this country and experience its national religion, and these days that means the Indian Premier League. The match is an evening one, so the temperature has dipped to a comfortable level. Samosa and fizzy-drink sellers wander the stands, music pumps and the announcer yells, and everywhere is a sea of pink flags. There’s a roar as the Royals’ openers walk out, one of them Jos Buttler. Barn and I feel guilty for jinxing him (he only makes 11), but Riyan Parag holds the innings together, and in the last over he really pulls the trigger: three fours and two sixes. Each time the white ball soars into the night sky, picked out by the floodlights, the entire crowd rises to its feet as though they’re tied to it. The assault proves decisive – the Royals end up winning by 12. The fans are ecstatic, and I feel 14 again.
‘Drivers in India need three things,’ we’re told.

Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in