August 9th 2014
We land at Houston airport at about 8.30 in the evening, hoping to get to Brenham by 10 pm. By the time we have gone through Customs and worked our way through the rental car procedures it is 10 pm already!
We had pre-booked the car but not the additional Satnav, as my cell phone seems to have the system installed already. To start with the system works well, but then I try to get clever and attempt to connect the phone to the Bluetooth system of the car. First mistake - the whole thing packs up and goes blank. Colin is driving and I am the navigator (second mistake!). We desperately try to find our way through the complicated highway system but to no avail. My phone rings: it is Felix Covington. "Where are you"? “Lost”, comes the reply. He does his best to guide us, but none of the road and town names that he suggests are on the road signs. This calls for drastic action. After some fruitless driving, we pull up at a gas station and look for a map. A friendly police officer does his very best to help us find our way around, but even he fails.
An hour later we see the sign for the airport! We swallow our pride, drive back to the rental firm and pick up a navigation aid. Full of confidence, we set off. Phone rings again. It is Felix. “Where are you?” “Back at the airport” we say, embarrassed… but we do have a Satnav now, so we shouldn’t be long: we all agree that the journey should take about a further 90 minutes. An hour or so later we leave the highway and enter the countryside. The Satnav begins to play up. It is clearly lost, because it is driving us around in a circle; this goes on for a further 45 minutes. Time to call Felix, poor man. He seems to take the news in his stride and does his best to get us out of what seem like a perpetual circle.
Several calls later, at 3 am, we eventually find the farm. We are embarrassed to have kept our hosts up for so long, but the welcome is warm and friendly. We are shown to our lodgings, a house somewhere on the farm. We unpack, freshen up and retire for what is left of the night. Long day…
Day 2
10 August 2014
Up bright and early. I open my eyes and find several dozen pairs of eyes staring back at me. It turns out that our hosts’ daughter, who lives in Houston with her children, is a bit of a collector. I have been given her room, which is effectively a doll museum. What a privilege.
We land at Houston airport at about 8.30 in the evening, hoping to get to Brenham by 10 pm. By the time we have gone through Customs and worked our way through the rental car procedures it is 10 pm already!
We had pre-booked the car but not the additional Satnav, as my cell phone seems to have the system installed already. To start with the system works well, but then I try to get clever and attempt to connect the phone to the Bluetooth system of the car. First mistake - the whole thing packs up and goes blank. Colin is driving and I am the navigator (second mistake!). We desperately try to find our way through the complicated highway system but to no avail. My phone rings: it is Felix Covington. "Where are you"? “Lost”, comes the reply. He does his best to guide us, but none of the road and town names that he suggests are on the road signs. This calls for drastic action. After some fruitless driving, we pull up at a gas station and look for a map. A friendly police officer does his very best to help us find our way around, but even he fails.
An hour later we see the sign for the airport! We swallow our pride, drive back to the rental firm and pick up a navigation aid. Full of confidence, we set off. Phone rings again. It is Felix. “Where are you?” “Back at the airport” we say, embarrassed… but we do have a Satnav now, so we shouldn’t be long: we all agree that the journey should take about a further 90 minutes. An hour or so later we leave the highway and enter the countryside. The Satnav begins to play up. It is clearly lost, because it is driving us around in a circle; this goes on for a further 45 minutes. Time to call Felix, poor man. He seems to take the news in his stride and does his best to get us out of what seem like a perpetual circle.
Several calls later, at 3 am, we eventually find the farm. We are embarrassed to have kept our hosts up for so long, but the welcome is warm and friendly. We are shown to our lodgings, a house somewhere on the farm. We unpack, freshen up and retire for what is left of the night. Long day…
Day 2
10 August 2014
Up bright and early. I open my eyes and find several dozen pairs of eyes staring back at me. It turns out that our hosts’ daughter, who lives in Houston with her children, is a bit of a collector. I have been given her room, which is effectively a doll museum. What a privilege.
The house is large compared with your average European dwelling. It is nestled in amongst some trees, not far from the main house.
A fridge full of food has been provided, so we breakfast and have a good look around. This place is more of a mini zoo than a farm. The first animals we set eyes on are peacocks roaming around. The next surprise is a flock of Guinea Fowl. Several dogs, what seems like countless cats and kittens, parrots, goats, turkeys, geese, ducks, rare breed sheep, horses, donkeys and cattle, not to mention the wildlife...
We walk up to the main house and are greeted by Joyce. Felix has gone to work. She offers us a good cup of tea in her kitchen, which is larger than some of the apartments I have had in London. Off to have a look around in one of many buggies that are scattered around the farm. This is a big farm and boy is it neat and tidy. There seem to be quite a few members of staff busily attending to various jobs. They are all very friendly and never without a smile. Joyce drives us up to the derelict barn that we have seen in photos. It turns out to be even better than the photos. Colin seems to have a permanent grin on his face. A quick buggy-ride down the hill and we are faced with what seems to be - and surely must be - the world’s biggest herd of Caspian Horses.
We walk up to the main house and are greeted by Joyce. Felix has gone to work. She offers us a good cup of tea in her kitchen, which is larger than some of the apartments I have had in London. Off to have a look around in one of many buggies that are scattered around the farm. This is a big farm and boy is it neat and tidy. There seem to be quite a few members of staff busily attending to various jobs. They are all very friendly and never without a smile. Joyce drives us up to the derelict barn that we have seen in photos. It turns out to be even better than the photos. Colin seems to have a permanent grin on his face. A quick buggy-ride down the hill and we are faced with what seems to be - and surely must be - the world’s biggest herd of Caspian Horses.
I find it difficult to take it all in. The scenery is just ideal. The air is fresh but warm. Once again we have landed in paradise.
Soon afterwards, Joyce drives us to see Dave. The countryside is lush and neat. Some thirty or so miles later we pull up at a smallholding with a few barns and lots of old American cars in bits and pieces, parked just anywhere! Out of the main barn comes Dave, complete with giant smile only to be seen in Texas. His inquisitive Boxer dog follows him. He welcomes us all and invites us in. “What can I do for you folks?” he asks. Joyce explains our project and tells him all about the calendar and the plight of the Caspian Horse. He seems interested and willing to help. We are then invited to walk into the woods. Deep amongst the trees we find the remains of a truck that must have been abandoned there for decades. Great truck Dave, but how can we get this to Joyce’s farm for the photo shoot? “No problem” is his response, “I think I can get the tyres up and pull it out with one of my other trucks!” Colin and I are impressed by his optimism.
He then invites us back into his workshop to see his collection of old automobilia and a vast collection of old license plates, displayed with immense pride. There are old oil cans, car and truck parts hanging everywhere. We are particularly impressed by his old motoring posters and signs. Colin is by now completely speechless. He is busy clicking away as Dave runs through his collection. After an hour or so we decide on the props that we would like to borrow and ask yet again for assurance that he could actually pull the old truck out and get it to Joyce’s old barn.
We say our goodbyes to Dave and drive off to see Henry. Henry is the man with the tractor. His workshop is on the outskirts of town and he offers us a warm welcome. His workshop is full of farm machinery in various states of repair. He is clearly in the agricultural machinery maintenance business. There is a 12-foot wide mower in the middle of the workshop, being prepared for some welding. I tell him that I have had flats smaller than this mower in my student days back in England! He seems amused.
We walk out into the yard to see his collection of old tractors. What a collection. One particular tractor catches our eyes and we home in on it straight away. Henry gives us the lowdown on it and assures us that, if we like it, it’s ours for the shoot. Great! All is set. We seem to have everything we need for the barn shoot.
Time for lunch - Joyce drives us to a nearby restaurant called the Chili Bean. Colin and I are a little apprehensive about what kind of hot food we are expected to eat, but as it turns out the food is absolutely great, as is the service and the hospitality. The farm is a short drive away. I, for one, am faced with the early signs of jetlag. Joyce wisely suggests that we look after ourselves for the afternoon and wander about as we wish. We arrange to get together at about 6 pm when Felix gets back. I head for my bed in the doll museum. I draw the curtains, set my alarm for 5 pm and go to sleep. Colin has done the same.
Time for lunch - Joyce drives us to a nearby restaurant called the Chili Bean. Colin and I are a little apprehensive about what kind of hot food we are expected to eat, but as it turns out the food is absolutely great, as is the service and the hospitality. The farm is a short drive away. I, for one, am faced with the early signs of jetlag. Joyce wisely suggests that we look after ourselves for the afternoon and wander about as we wish. We arrange to get together at about 6 pm when Felix gets back. I head for my bed in the doll museum. I draw the curtains, set my alarm for 5 pm and go to sleep. Colin has done the same.
Just before 6 pm we walk up to the main house. The plan is for us to go to a local Rodeo Show. Neither Colin nor I have ever been to one of these before, so we are both terribly excited. But before that we are going up to the road to see the cattle. A mile or so up the road we come to what is essentially the top part of the farm. Some hay is put up for the cows and sure enough, they soon appear over the hill. This is a great-looking herd. The hillside looks promising for our second set up…a young rider wearing a Texan hat on a Caspian horse, the cattle in the background? Yes, Colin agrees that this site is a good location.
By now we have three potential locations. Relaxed and confident, we set off to the Rodeo Show. On the way we pass the local cattle market. There are very large trucks leaving the site, each with what must be several dozen large cattle on board. Everything is just a little larger around these parts.
The Rodeo is held at the area’s Municipal Showground. We manage to park in amongst thousands of cars and walk in. On the way we pass rows of cages housing turkeys, geese, chickens, goats, sheep and all kinds of other domestic and farm animals. There must have been some kind of competition held there earlier in the day. The rodeo arena is vast and noisy. Loud Western music is being piped out of the huge speakers, only interrupted by the odd announcement. There seem to be an unusually large number of men in pink shirts! Interesting…then,
Felix and Joyce ask us if we would like to sit on the stands or go around the side where the animals are kept and enter into the arena. We opt for the excitement and choose the working end of the arena. We are not disappointed. The first pen houses about a dozen bulls, each the size of an average European car. They are all quietly chewing the cud, seemingly unaware of what is awaiting them.
The show begins with a parade and quite a bit of patriotic singing and chanting. The Compere (in a pink shirt, of course) is on a horse, taking the ‘micky’ out of all and sundry. Nice to see a real pro’ at work.
The Rodeo is held at the area’s Municipal Showground. We manage to park in amongst thousands of cars and walk in. On the way we pass rows of cages housing turkeys, geese, chickens, goats, sheep and all kinds of other domestic and farm animals. There must have been some kind of competition held there earlier in the day. The rodeo arena is vast and noisy. Loud Western music is being piped out of the huge speakers, only interrupted by the odd announcement. There seem to be an unusually large number of men in pink shirts! Interesting…then,
Felix and Joyce ask us if we would like to sit on the stands or go around the side where the animals are kept and enter into the arena. We opt for the excitement and choose the working end of the arena. We are not disappointed. The first pen houses about a dozen bulls, each the size of an average European car. They are all quietly chewing the cud, seemingly unaware of what is awaiting them.
The show begins with a parade and quite a bit of patriotic singing and chanting. The Compere (in a pink shirt, of course) is on a horse, taking the ‘micky’ out of all and sundry. Nice to see a real pro’ at work.
Young men are catapulted into the arena, holding on to the saddle for all it’s worth, trying to stay on while the horse does everything in his power to dislodge them. The average stay is no more than a few seconds. Once they hit the deck, the horse is seen out of the arena by the marshals and the rider limps off to thunderous rounds of applause. The exit for the riders is where Colin and I are standing with our cameras. These chaps are all very young and are without exception in pain, but they all seem to have a smile on their faces as they limp away.
The next event is Calf Roping: this is quite impressive. The action begins with two riders chasing a small calf into the arena. They both swing their ropes and lasso the calf as one slips off his horse, grabs the calf, ties its feet together with some rope and holds his hand up for the clock to stop. It all seems to be done in one swift movement in the hands of experts! Not every contestant is successful. The odd calf ends up giving the marshals the run around, to the amusement of the audience, who all seem to be on the side of the calf.
In between each event, the crowd is entertained by a chap dressed as a clown. He is full of what you might call risqué jokes, which seem to please the crowd. The last event of the evening is the Bull Riding. Again young men are shot through the arena on the back of a very large and reluctant bull. No rider manages to stay on more than a few seconds. They too limp off with a smile. I wonder how much pain they are in.
The next event is the Barrel Race. This is the most impressive display of horsemanship. It begins with three barrel-shaped targets placed in a triangle, some 30 feet apart. The contestants enter the arena and gallop around the three barrels, against the clock. The top scorers then try the same ride but with the barrels placed closer to make the turns sharper. This event seems to be popular with the ladies - there are no men competing! The standard of riding gets higher and higher as the race progresses. These ladies sure know how to stay on a horse on a seemingly impossible turn. The horses all seem to enjoy the action.
We decide to leave before the final act so that we can miss the car park exit rush. Felix drives us to a traditional Texan eatery where they serve meat and more meat. Good job Colin and I are both carnivores. The decor is all Western-style wood. The service is friendly and the food delicious.
We chat about our photographic expedition to the Caspian regions of Iran. They both seem to be genuinely in love with the Caspian Horse.
Our first day in Texas draws to an end. Everyone except Felix begins to nod off on the way back home. Felix is, of course, driving.
Please visit this site next week for more.
Wish to join the Caspain Horse Society? Please click here
If you wish to reserve a copy of the calendar please click here
Our first day in Texas draws to an end. Everyone except Felix begins to nod off on the way back home. Felix is, of course, driving.
Please visit this site next week for more.
Wish to join the Caspain Horse Society? Please click here
If you wish to reserve a copy of the calendar please click here
