Sri Lanka's fortnight-long party

The timing of the ICC Champions Trophy could not have been better. The United National Party, after winning elections in December 2001, has spent more than nine months in power, and prospects of peace in this war-torn paradise have rarely been better. It is now safe to travel freely around Colombo; the number of gun-toting young officers lining the roads has decreased dramatically, and the sand-bagged road-blocks - earlier almost a feature of the landscape - had disappeared. It is too early yet to say so, but peace may be returning to Serendip.

As a consequence, the Sri Lankan economy is booming. The stock market has appreciated 100 per cent in the last year, and the Champions Trophy has only injected more dollars into the economy. The ICC has estimated the direct and indirect benefits associated with staging the event at Colombo to be a staggering US$ 25 million. The ICC goes on to say, "The teams, plus officials, TV crews and sponsors, are responsible for more than 10,000 nights in accommodation, as well as spending US$ 50 a day on food and entertainment."

Truth be told, these are numbers that not too many can verify. Much extrapolation goes into whipping these figures up, and they may not be as relevant as the officials would have us believe. What can be confirmed, however, is the gusto with which the Sri Lankans have gone about making this tournament a success.

The Ministry of Tourism, working closely with the Board of Control for Cricket in Sri Lanka (BCCSL), has made sure that visitors will leave Sri Lanka having had a good time and that the media will spread favourable impressions of the country. Just in case to make sure this happened, the Ministry held a party to end all parties at the Mount Lavinia beach resort.

One of the prettiest stretches of private beach in the Colombo area, the resort is secluded, being around seven kilometres outside the city. A colonial-style building spills over onto the beach, and elaborately dressed locals in all their finery greet you with either "Ayubhuvan" or "Vanakkam," words meaning...well, have a good time really, in the context of things.

On a specially lit stage, a master of ceremonies started to ramble, introducing one VIP after another. Within five minutes, before an important official began his speech, the crowd had wandered away, re-congregating at the beer garden and the dance floor. After all, who wants to listen to the head of the tea board drone on about tea's first entry into Sri Lanka when one could be rubbing shoulders with contestants of the Miss Sri Lanka tourism pageant instead? A bevy of beauties, from places as far flung as South Africa and Yugoslavia, vied for attention, whirling like dervishes to the natty tunes the disc jockey dished out.

And I will never write again that Chris Gayle's footwork needs working on. The Caribbean opener led the cricketers' corner on the dance floor when it came to dancing, with Pedro Collins and Maurice Odumbe in tow. Without in any way wanting to generalise, the West Indians and Kenyans had a feel for rhythm - as well as a capacity for wine that others could only marvel at.

A group of South African cricketers sat around a table, looking around with interest but not wandering out onto the dance floor. At another table sat five men one usually doesn't see in anything but white coats. Match officials Clive Lloyd, Srinivas Venkataraghavan and Steve Bucknor sat by themselves, hopefully discussing how to save some time by making snappy decisions instead of rushing to the third umpire for help each time!

Shoaib Akhtar and Danny Morrison spent a fair bit of time together, but I can assure you it was not reverse swing they were talking about. For those that wanted it, there was plenty of space to wander about, grab a bite at the barbecue, and perhaps test one's skill at a game of mini golf.

As the evening unwrapped itself, it provided a rare opportunity for various groups of people - players, media, administrators and fans - to really mingle, leaving the day's work behind them. Although it is only a game, cricket has become such a serious business these days that it is almost impossible for these groups to mix socially in the normal course.

The Sri Lankan Ministry of Tourism thus opened a welcome window, and for an evening, the Champions Trophy paused, and it was refreshing indeed. In fact, if anybody leaves for Colombo now, one can wave them goodbye saying, "Have a blast" without being misunderstood at all.