There's a certain satisfaction to be had from waving down the first rickshaw you see, and as the driver sticks his head out to look at you inquisitively, saying to him: "President's house please. Hundred rupees!"

"President's house?" he asked back. And then, once we were in with the fee agreed, he turned to look at us once more: "President's house?"

I suppose we didn't exactly look the type, although we were at least wearing long pants and smart shirts. And we did have an invitation to dinner with the President of Sri Lanka, so off we went.

The big man - and he is a big man - had invited all ICC officials and cricket media to a function at his residence ahead of the semi-final in Colombo, and I have to admit that intrigue trumped morality.

One Sri Lankan journalist, whose name shall be excluded for his own safety, dubbed Mahinda Rajapaksa 'the next Mugabe' in a conversation we had prior to Monday night's dinner. There are certainly a few similarities.

Currently in his second term of office, Mr. Rajapaksa has pushed through constitutional amendments which increase his powers and abolish the two-term limit that was previously in place, while he has been accused of war crimes, the use of violence for political purposes and the murder of newspaper journalists who have been critical of his rule, all of which he denies.

The most ruthless and downright shameless of these occured in January 2009 when Lasantha Wickrematunge, the editor of the Sunday Leader, was assassinated despite the fact that he had written an editorial predicting his own death.

"Murder has become the primary tool whereby the state seeks to control the organs of liberty," Wickrematunge wrote in the editorial.

"In the name of patriotism you have trampled on human rights, nurtured unbridled corruption and squandered public money like no other president before you," he added, addressing the president directly.

Naturally the president and his supporters deny any involvement, but the promised investigation into the killing has still not provided any answers.

Mr. Rajapaksa retains huge support from the Sinhalese majority in Sri Lanka, but every rickshaw driver I've spoken to has said he's a scumbag and others accuse his government of mismanaging the funds that were generously donated in the wake of the 2004 tsunami. His moustache doesn't do anything to dismiss such rumours, and unlike Robert Mugabe he's shown no public love for cricket. Given how mad the Premadasa crowd is going as I type this, I would suggest he's missed a trick.

Anyway, I'm rather biting the hand that fed me here. We arrived at Sri Lanka's version of the White House in our tuk-tuk expecting interminable speeches and a few awkward moments, only to be delightfully surprised that there were neither. Not that my introduction to the president was particularly jovial mind you. We shook hands and I mumbled something while his mute reply suggested that he could see a blog like this coming no matter how good the food or the Australian wine was.

All electronic equipment, including mobile phones, had been left at reception on arrival so I'm afraid there were no photographs to capture the occasion. Instead, as we walked back to the main road at the end of the evening admiring the fact that there are stray dogs even inside the gates of the presidential residence, I had the above picture taken with some army fellows. They wouldn't give us a lift home in their vehicle, but they did seem fairly chilled about the whole thing.