Booze, a credit card, and the internet make for a dangerous combination. Waking up one morning to an email confirming my flights to Mumbai brought back hazy memories from the previous evening (but at least I didn't have a Filipino bride like last month).

A few hundred years ago the Portuguese sailed out this way and on seeing the natural harbour one of the more camp sailors said something like "Oooh look at that bay! Isn't it good!" Or 'bom bia' in his native tongue. Then the Brits came along in their smart red tunics and made it the HQ of the East India Trading Company and Bombay became a bustling port and important trade hub to China and the Orient. Then in 1995 the local authorities decided to change it back to the original name of Mumbai. So now you know, and if I ever get to Chennai I'll tell you why it used to be called Madras.

I was here to watch the third and final cricket Test match between India and England at the unfortunately named Wankhede Stadium. The home fans were raucous throughout, none more so then when local boy - and national demi-god - Sachin Tendulkar got anywhere near the ball. To say he is idolised in this country is an affront to other idols. Cricket is by far the number one sport in this country of nearly one billion. He is David Beckham, Michael Jordan, Tiger Woods, Eddie the Eagle, Torvill & Dean, and Phil Taylor all put together in his 5'2" frame. Over the last 16 years he has almost transcended the sport, and to see him play in his home city in front of a packed stadium the is one of the reasons I'm here. From a cricketing perspective to see him score a century would have been the ultimate, but from an England perspective seeing him continue his poor form was not altogether a bad thing. The fickle Indian crowd though were quick to boo when he departed cheaply in the first innings.

Out of the 30,000 crowd I would estimate there were at least 3,000 English, ranging from the posh fully-escorted old-biddy tours in their days-of-the-Raj summer suits to the stoned backpackers on their way down to Goa to be hippies until Daddy's money runs out. The atmosphere from both sets of fans was fantastic, although the Indian chants were slightly repetitive in style (such as "Eyoh eyoh Kevin is a homo" and "Eyoh eyoh Freddie is a homo" and "Eyoh eyoh Hoggy is a doggy") but generally there was good banter between the fans.

Unfortunately - but maybe not - the authorities had banned the sale of beer inside the stadium and this only meant

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