Mexico!

So how did that come about? Well… I could say that I’ve thought about it for years and put a lot of effort into researching what / where / when… but that would be a big fat lie. Of course, I’d always been keen to go, but I've done absolutely nothing for it. Instead, my photographer friend Oscar did all the research and then asked me to come along. And I just happened to be on the American continent, so it would have been rude not to. What a good friend I am, I know! And surprise surprise, I really enjoyed. All of it (although my back pain was pretty bad and spoiled the fun at times). It can be summarised very briefly: spending good times with friends, photographing day and night, dancing in parades and at cemeteries (more on that later), surviving taking boats across a lake at night, driving a battered car with useless head lights, making myself understood (with mixed success) with hand gestures and half formed sentences, eating a lot of tacos and drinking a lot of margaritas. That was mostly it, and believe it or not, it was exhausting!

And now for the details: Michoacan is one of the 2 states that has a tradition of celebrating the day of the dead (with Oaxaca). Yep, it’s not all Mexico, although it’s now catching on, curtesy of a James Bond movie. Or so I am told. So, we basically travelled between villages and explored cemeteries. And, more often than not, there was a parade (with various degree of organisation) with music, traditional costumes, dancing… The 2 important nights of celebrations were that of the 31/10 and 1/11, but the previous days were spent cleaning graves, starting to place marigolds in cemeteries, building shrines at home etc. A lot of prep.

On the 31st, in the village of Cuanajo (not everywhere) people particularly celebrate children and unmarried adults that have passed away by opening their homes to everyone. It lasts all night. There are photos and flowers and decorations to celebrate the deceased, gifts of drinks and tamales for the visitors, and a continuous flow of people coming in and out of houses and kids running around. Depending on the wealth of the family, there can also be a band playing (and dancing, of course). And a lot of Mezcal.

But the 1/11 is the big night. This is when people spend the night by the grave of their loved ones. The cemeteries are beautifully lit and decorated, and again, there are parades, bands and dancing in between graves, and lots of candles, beer and Mezcal. There are people moving around, walking on graves, sitting, chatting, laughing, singing… We went to the normally quiet village of Tzintzuntzan, which has got 2 cemeteries but also gets very very crowded with locals and national tourists. In fact, there were buses parked for about a km before the entrance to the village. So super crowded but also super fun. Then we drove to another village, that one was quieter (a lot less tourists). At first, it is very strange, this mix of all things (at least it was to me), but it also feels healthy to celebrate loved ones like that. And this party lasted all night. I didn’t, sadly, but when I came back the next morning, some people were going home, others were coming for the day shift.

So a real experience. Not sure my pictures have done it justice, but it’s been a blast, and that’s the main thing! Now I am back in the US to continue (almost) where I left off – this next section, starting in Arizona, will mostly be about canyons and national parks. Maybe there will be snow! Whoop.

End of chapter 1!

It turns out that I’ve been here for just over a month! It’s gone incredibly quick and very well so far (all fingers and toes crossed on that one still…). The good stuff and the bad stuff, it’s been pretty much what the doctor had ordered. This past month I’ve seen cities, deserts, canyons, mountains, ghost towns, highway services, beautiful night skies, sunsets and sunrises over the desert; I’ve taken long distance buses, countless of city buses, a slow train, driven over 1300 miles on windy roads, on dead straight highways, on desert roads... I’ve listened to brilliant live music, and to more country music on the radio than I ever thought I would (and more than I was hoping to tbh), I’ve seen good and random art, weird giant things on the side of the road, tacky things, drank beer and margaritas and many, many other things…. And I’ve photographed.

I have also made connections with a lot of super nice people, some of which I hope will remain friends with forever more. So, in no particular order, there are a few encounters that have stuck with me: meeting long lost friends of my dad’s and now becoming friends with them myself in McKinney Tx (that was very special); forming the NOLA magic crew after talking on a bench for over an hour pretending we were in a French movie; Inviting myself to a real New Orleans brass band gig with a jetlagged Londoner; getting excellent and detailed travel tips from a bar tender lady in Houston, who’s looked after me ever since and has even put me in touch with her best friend in Santa Fe; having margaritas with aforementioned best friend and finding common artistic grounds; Sharing beers and looking for shooting stars with Puerto Rican and Texan fire fighters in Big Bend National Park; Meeting a very good PhD friend for beef ribs and brisket, and being looked after by an Exeter friend with live music and a bat flight (!) in Austin; Whingeing about Brexit (yes… us foreigners still haven’t let that one go!) and putting the world to right with newly Houston based, ex Londoner and fellow EU citizen… Thank you all of you!

Chapter 2 is starting now with a trip to Mexico before heading West again.

So long!

At the rodeo!

Yes, people I have been to a rodeo. It was a couple of weeks ago. Basically, I figured that if I had travelled all the way to Texas' Fort Worth’s stockyards, I might as well see what it’s like, and my tour guide would have absolutely loved it! So, I booked what was available (sadly the ‘traditional’ rodeo with horses, cows etc was not on that day): a Professional Bull Riders events at the coliseum in Fort Worth. Nothing less.

So when it was time to go, I got quite excited. I did stick out slightly with my outfit (as in, my lack of cowboy hat or boots…) but I compensated by getting what my idea of this kind of event required: a huuuuuuge frozen margarita (not particularly good) and a huuuuuuuge plate of nachos smothered in chili and weird melted cheese (not particularly good either). I didn’t finish either but that was not the point.

When it started, everything mostly happened in one end of the arena (the opposite side from where I was sitting, of course…). So, in summary, there was a lot of smoke and light going in all directions for the entrance of the contestants, and commentary was provided by one guy, most of what he was talking about past me by. There were also 2 men on horses with lassos, to get the bull if things got tricky (which only happened a couple of times) and 3 blokes there running around just to distract the bull. The way it goes is that they kinda stabilise the rider on the bull in a pen (that bit can take a while), open the gate, and there he goes, he’s on his own, willingly sitting on a crazy jumping bull!

What I understood eventually was that:

• They only got points if they stayed on the bull for over 8 seconds.

• 8 seconds is quite a long time to be riding a bull who doesn’t really want to be there.

What was the score exactly based on beyond that? I can’t tell you, all too confusing for me, but what I can tell you is that the crowd’s internal clock is spot on as they got only excited as time went on. Sadly, a lot of the contestants didn’t score anything. The maximum time was probably 12 seconds? And then there were some ties, so some had another go. There were also replays on big screens, loud music, slow motion, advertisement, camera showing people in the crowd waving kissing, and occasionally a ranking table. No obvious injury, no dramatic exit, no paramedics… And then the whole thing ended quite abruptly – the last guy went, the scores were probably announced but I didn’t understand, thank you goodbye see you next time. No podium, no medal, no “that’s gonna hurt tomorrow” – nothing! 15 min later I was on the bus home.

So, there you go. Will I go again? Probably not, but I’d try most things once, and I am glad I went. And finally, I thought I’d put a picture of the blokes signing up for the event before, rather than what happened during, because at least there is something to see (I shoot with a 35mm lens, remember?).

Til next time!