Bermuda spent the first day of their UK tour relaxing at the stunning Horsham Cricket Club and watching a limited overs county match between Sussex and Somerset.

As an upper-middle class county boasting an almost exclusively white and ageing population, it would be fair to say that Bermuda's boisterous contingent stood out like a sore thumb from the grey-haired and politely-clapping spectators munching on their homemade cucumber sandwiches.

The humour of the situation was certainly not lost on .

When asked by this reporter where it might be possible to track down team manager Lionel Tannock, Romaine grinned from ear to ear and said loudly: "Check over by the pavilion. All you gotta do is look for the grain of pepper in the salt cellar" ? a comment which prompted numerous embarrassed titters from nearby spectators.

Speaking of , the under-15 national coach was asked to assume the manager's role only a few days before the squad were due to leave Bermuda and being a novice at the job, he was forced to learn how things worked as he went along.

One thing that was clear though is that cold weather and Tannock do not mix.

While he would have no doubt preferred to spend match days warming himself next to a radiator in the pavilion, with no official scorer on the trip poor Lionel could be found most days shivering uncontrollably in the draughty club score boxes, wearing gloves, several thick sweaters, a jacket and, underneath it all, some newly-purchased thermal underwear.

Though he survived with good humour through the first match, by the second the weather had clearly gotten to him, as with little warning and during a quiet period in the game against Lloyds, a desperate cry of exasperation rang out from the score box: "For God's sake bye, can somebody please turn up the goddam heat!"

Playing away from home almost exclusively means Bermuda rarely play in front of their own supporters. One local who has stuck with them through thick and thin, however, is Robert (Icewater) Smith, who was once again part of the travelling party and an ever-present bundle of energy on the boundary edge.

While his brand of flag-waving exuberance might not seem out of place at Cup Match or in the Caribbean, on the quiet rural grounds of the UK his behaviour can sometimes rustle a few feathers.

In three separate games, an opposition batsman stopped a bowler in his delivery stride claiming to have been distracted by the shouts coming from "Icey".

Guernsey batsman Lee Savident even complained that he thought the noise was coming from one of the fielders. But a justifiably defiant Icewater was unrepentant on this latter occasion, shouting across the ground at Savident: "Stop talking all that nonsense bye ? Up the Gombey Warriors!"

The national squad only had two full days off in almost two weeks abroad, and on those occasions some of them decided that a round of golf at the ramshackle nine-hole golf course connected to their Sussex hotel would be a pleasant way to unwind.

Carrying only three borrowed clubs each, all of which looked as if Sam Snead might have played with them in his prime, and hitting dirty range balls, engaged in a titanic battle using a match-play format.

With one hole remaining and with Borden one up, the ninth was clearly going to be nail-biter.

Gibbons, however, who clearly failed elementary maths, for some reason thought the round had already been completed and proceeded to nail Mukuddem's, Borden's and West's only balls about 200 yards across a stream and into an adjacent field full of sheep.

Understandably this did not go down very well with his golfing party and he was dispatched all the way back to the hotel to fetch some more, abuse ringing in his ears. (Borden held his nerve).