Day four

Up early again. Spend 30 minutes working out how the shower taps work. Eventually I am
successful and manage a quick shower. Colin follows suit, having benefited from my discoveries about the novel plumbing at the hotel.

We rush down to breakfast, which as usual is a heavenly feast. Stuffed with food, we return to our rooms to prepare the cameras and get down to reception to meet Arash who has kindly offered to drive us there. Yet another hero of the trip of course accompanies him. Navid is also a show jumper of some fame in the region.  They both drive us to the beach where the Caspian Horse Festival is held. The turnout seems to be quite impressive. There are a couple of dozen big trucks packed with Caspians. 

Local TV station is present with several cameras including a camera carne! We are all surprised and delighted. Colin gets to work straight away taking pictures of the unloading. 

Ateshe is one of the senior judges for the day so upon arrival she is whisked away. I have several tasks today, my main duty being to support Ateshe and Colin as they have a heavy and possibly long day ahead of them. The heat will not help. In all there seem to be about three dozen entries.

There are a couple of mares with foals. One seems to be only days old. 

Before long he manages to break away. Grown men trying to catch the foal on the beach treat the audience which by now has built up in numbers to a comical chase scene. Before long they are all defeated and give up. The crowd is clearly on the side of the foal and is not shy of being partisan. The foal, who is all legs, stops further up the beach with a knowing look on his face. Nature has spent thousands of years perfecting this little creature to escape predators such as the Persian Leopard. Mere humans have no chance. Eventually the foal gets bored and returns to his mum in the ring. Huge cheer from the crowd.

The proceedings are well under way. The announcer is busy advising the entrants as to what to do and where to get their numbers and entry forms. In between the instructions he dispenses some interesting facts to entertain the crowd. This is all well received. I find myself being chased by quite a few people who have entered their Caspians and are very keen to have their horses registered in the studbook. Which studbook, nobody seems to know. I spend quite some time persuading them all that they should get together and form an association and get some help from the Iranian National Riding Federation and start a studbook. All matters relating to this subject are hotly debated. There is no shortage of enthusiasm, but there seems to be very little in the way of planning. I do my best to help. 
In between these sessions I check up on Colin and Ateshe to make sure they have cold water and something to eat. The sun is really hot now. We have been out in the open for more than four hours. The judging is now in full swing. The announcer is doing a great job of entertaining the crowd with all kinds of information about the Caspian horse in general and each and every Caspian in particular. My heart is filled with hope. Things are looking good for the Caspian horse in this part of Iran at least.

Soon I find Colin lining up each and every entrant on the beach and taking detailed shots for the ICS records. I walk over and try to help. The ever-resourceful Colin in using a combination of hand gestures and smiles to get what he wants. Some of these guys speak not a word of English. I leave him to it, find myself a glass of hot black tea and sit down in the shade.    

I am soon surrounded by a group of Caspian owners and enthusiast who want to know more about the CHS and ICS. What can we do for you? What can you do for us?

What they want to know is how to raise the profile of the Caspian Horse in Iran and elsewhere so that they can afford to breed the best. This is only possible if there is a market for the progeny. I was told time and time again that we cannot afford to keep these animals forever without any financial support or reward. I can understand their point. I assure them that their concerns are echoed in UK and elsewhere. Everyone seems to agree that the way forward is to promote the Caspian horse as the ideal Sports Horse for Children. The representative of the Iranian Horse Riding Federation soon joins us. She is most enthusiastic about the way ahead and offers to do everything she can to help get the Iranian Caspian Studbook up and running again. 

Back in the ring taking pictures - suddenly from the corner of my eye, I see a great big red fire truck driving on the beach and coming right towards us! My heart sinks. Are we in trouble? Where is the fire?  The driver and the crew do not seem to be in a rush and nobody seems to be alarmed. What is going on? They pull up right by the show ring.  Soon the sand ring is cleared and the crew begins to spray the show ring on the beach with cold water to keep it damp and make it easy for the horses to walk on. Now where else in the world will you see that? The show compere thanks the crew as they retreat to a big round of applause from the crowd. Just before they leave they treat the crowd to a big fine spray of cool water. More applause. I look around to find Colin. He is being interviewed by a lady from the local TV station.

Soon the competition is over and awards presented. The Champion of Champions is magnificent.

Off to lunch again in the same restaurant as the day before. Before long we are faced with yet another feast. To our surprise we, Ateshe,Colin and I are presented with an award and a gift each by the Chairman of Gilan Riding Federation by Mr.Afshari.  I found myself lost for words. The Iranian generosity and hospitality knows no bounds.

Soon all goodbyes are said. We get back to the beach to watch the horses being loaded and taken away. What a day!

Back in the car with Arash and Navid heading for the rice paddies; on the way we stop at a small town where we are treated to some ice cream. Heaven. 

Further down the road we stop again to look at a few roadside shops that are rice dealer. each establishment doing its best to display the rice.  I never knew there were so many different types or rice grown in Iran. The favourite was the oak smoked rice. The whole atmosphere is filled with different aromas. 

Another great scene is how local farmers sell their produce by the roadside. All kinds of fruit and vegetable are on display for the passer by to look at, taste and purchase. Not many food miles here!
Colin is busy clicking away.

Upon arrival back at the location that we had checked out the night before, we find the farmer and his family busy at work harvesting the rice. How lucky we are to see this in wonderful spectacle right before our eyes. Some time goes by. The aroma of the freshly cut rice is intoxicating. I find Colin standing motionless gazing in to the distance. Are we in a dream?

Soon we get back to reality and begin to set up. Lucky for us, they had left a heap of chaff in the middle of the field with a few bags of rice leaning onto it. This is perfect. 

We ask how long it is going to be before we can get set up. We are advised that there are still a few bags of rice to be collected and then the field is ours to use. I notice that the trailer carrying the heavy bags is stuck in a deep rut. I take this opportunity to give a hand and repay their kindness in some small way. This gesture is well received.  This task is soon completed and we get going with the setting up.

As soon as we have the lighting in place, Arash, Navid and Hahj Agha arrive with the magnificent Cyrus who seems to be full of energy this evening. He is soon led to the right place. It takes all the skills of two national show jumpers to bring this little stallion under control. What an animal. 

Colin begins to click away. I hear voices behind me. I look around and see the entire farming family standing behind us wondering what it is that we are up to. They seem to have settled down to a picnic with tea and cookies. Ah…. the simple life with it’s simple pleasures…

The small children are beside themselves with excitement. They do their best to go right around the field and peep through the shot. Soon this turns into a friendly game of hide and seek between them and me. I lose.

Astonishingly, the old farmer walks very slowly forward and sits down by the chaff mound right in the middle of the shot looking up at the horse. My first reaction is panic. What is he doing in there? I look at Colin, He gives a hand gesture beckoning me to look through the camera. The old man looks so perfectly placed in the shot that it would look truly empty without him. "Leave him there" I whisper. Colin nods his agreement. The session takes a further hour. By this time the light is fading but Colin’s masterly lighting is beginning to yield results. I look through the viewfinder… I am looking at a master painting. Go for it Colin. We have got the shot.
Once the photography is over we begin to pack up the equipment. The old farmer disappears behind the hedge and returns with the biggest watermelon I have ever seen. He invites us to join him and his family to enjoy watermelon.

That Iranian hospitality again.

Back in the yard again. Hot tea and cookies await us. We make arrangements for an early start tomorrow at the bottom of the tea growing hills. Haj Agha is going to bring Cyrus with him in the trailer. Goodbyes are said as we set of for Rasht, only to be faced with the mother of all traffic jams for mile after mile. The journey takes us about two hours. I feel sorry for poor Arash. Not only has  he had a long day at the show, he has been driving us all afternoon and now the traffic jam. He rings his wife on his mobile to say he is going to be late. Ateshe seems to know his wife quiet well and does her best to thank her and apologise on our behalf for taking Arash away from his family. Just before we get to Rasht, Ateshe remembers that she needs the assistance of a medical person to take out some stitches left in her mouth from a dental operation prior to her flight to Iran. No problem "come with me" says Arash. He drives us to a 24-hour clinic and before long Ateshe is back with a smile. All set and back to the hotel. We try to persuade Arash to join us for dinner but he misses his family and wants to go home. We do of course understand. We thank him for his help and hard work and arrange to see him bright and early tomorrow morning.

Up to the top floor restaurant at the hotel. We are again greeted with smiles. Hot bread is soon on the table as we read the menu. What a day.

Tomorrow we are going to the tea growing hills. Another dawn start.

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