Not quite but nearly.

This is what remains of a cricket scoring shed on the edge of the Cotswolds. I’d popped out there today to see a friend and take in a bit of Winter Sunshine. The village cricket field and pitch are now in a sorry state, but was at one time very well maintained and busy. It’s a tenuous claim to fame that one home side there, possibly the village cricket team, played host to a visiting side of Buddhist monks. They were staying in the area and managed to muster a team. At the same time, the Dalai Lama was staying in a nearby grand house as a guest, and wandered down to the cricket to watch for a while.

It’s pleasant to speculate that he might have stopped for tea, complete with sandwich spread or Shipham’s meat paste sandwiches and some of the local postmistress’s Victoria Sponge to go with his cup of Typhoo. Unlikely that they would have had any green tea or lapsang souchong in those days. Unlikely too that he helped his team out at the crease.

Sadly, the pitch is now used by local sheep, and the scorer’s shed has fallen into disrepair.