Security and sounds the abiding memories of docile Islamabad draw

As far as the cricket goes, you can probably gather all you need to know from the fact that it was the first Test in history with a century opening partnership for three innings in a row. Or from the fact that Australia never got close to batting a second time. In the end Pakistan made 728 runs for the loss of four wickets in the match. Fold in the Australian innings and it read 1187 for 14. What else could be expected on a pitch the colour and character of a tranquilised Labrador.

Those conditions were the home team’s choice. Usually the Rawalpindi surface is green with grass and helpful for pace, but after Pakistan’s fast bowlers were scythed down by illness and injury, they turned the mower as ruthlessly on to the pitch itself. Fear of Australia’s bowling supremacy saw Pakistan surrender the team’s own edge: Shaheen Shah Afridi and Naseem Shah showed pace and skill despite the lack of assistance, but were left a task too tall.

Related: Australian bowlers toil with ball as Pakistan Test peters out into draw

But still, in other ways none of that seemed to matter. A team of Australians were playing Test cricket at Rawalpindi, the ground last trod by Mark Taylor when he made his famous triple century in 1998, and the match itself was secondary to everything that surrounded it for the full five days.

Take the sound. Never at a cricket ground would you expect to hear such a sound. Hundreds of small horns, each being blown to form a single buzzing note. Abrasive on their own, annoying in clusters. But as each one in the ground was sounded at once, such as on the four occasions when Pakistan players reached centuries, the individual parts joined into something bigger, something singular, the noise vibrating through your