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Legend, and our guide Laurence, has it the falls were named for Kai, an Amerindian chief, who acted to save his people by paddling over the falls as a sacrifice to Makonaima, the great spirit.

Laurence took us on a scramble through the surrounding national park, which offered the chance to experience the rainforest canopy of the Amazon – and no, I didn’t realise it stretched into Guyana either.

The flight was almost as spectacular, with views of the Essequibo River and vast swathes of rainforest, which covers over 80% of the country’s 83,000 square miles.

As we came back into Georgetown, nearing dusk, I got a first view of the , which crosses the river next to the National Stadium, where take strike on Wednesday morning.

And while we are on the subject of cricket, there was a surprise in store when the rest of our tour party turned up for the flight.

We wondered why the soldiers manning the tiny airstrip had looked so excited when we arrived, waving Guyanese flags, and so disappointed when we got out of our minibus. We also wondered why our departure was put back, at the last minute, by two hours.

It turned out to be the boys from Big Chef’s Steak House, and I had come without my false moustache and dark glasses.

When we landed, there were people with video cameras. “Michael Vaughan, England captain!” someone shouted in my direction. I was quite chuffed by the comparison, until I realised that Michael Vaughan, England captain was standing just behind me.

Everywhere we went, people asked the same question: “Where is Andrew Flintoff?” and it would have taken a cruel wit to suggest he was paddling down the river on his own.

In fact, Freddie took the trip three years ago, when for a one-day international.

Too often, international sportsmen are criticised for sealing themselves in hotel rooms and ignoring the world outside so it was good to see them out and about, although perhaps they weren’t saying the same about a bunch of journalists.