The shooting bug had really hit me (pardon the pun) and despite other various entertaining activities, including attending the International Balloon Fiesta, I wanted to go shoot stuff, again.
Off to the whitest desert we went, to camp, eat cactus and shoot at brown bottles and old tin cans! The group consisted of a bunch of Americans, one crazy Brit (me), a couple of guns and some tents. Great fun was had, despite the mosquitoes.
Clear blue skies, rugged landscape, stunning sunsets and sunrises…what more could you wish for? BALLOONS!!! Obviously, and lots of them!
Everyone the world over knows how much Americans love their guns! From Western movies, to police and sherifs, even your average Joe, you’re never really far away from a gun. Even driving down the highway you’ll realise gun shops and shooting ranges are plentiful.
So it was only normal that one weekend in early October that I would trek out with my American comrades to shoot bits of metal at paper and balsa wood cut out shapes at Calibers Shooting Range, on Cutler Avenue ABQ.
New Mexico really is a one-of-a-kind state. There aren’t any other states where you get quite such a potent mix of Mexican, Native American, Afro American and Old World American culture, all in the same state. Zozobra is one of those fine examples of historical and cultural superstition mixed in with the American avant-garde arts scene. Think Burning Man, just on a much smaller scale.
Continue reading “Old Man Gloom, and the Fire Spirit of Santa Fe”
Moved into my flat- still sans luggage- next thing I know I’ve just agreed to go on a last minute trip to Mexico! Having met my new neighbours it turns out one of them (a Swedish ice hockey player) filled out the wrong visa entry card and has 24 hours to leave the country and return, otherwise he will be deported, logical conclusion (since Canada is a bit too far) is to drive to Mexico!
Behind the sleepy, idyllic mountain village scene of Chefchauen, there lies a secret……the Hammam. There are two different types of Hammam, one for women…a wonderfully pleasant, relaxing experience, and one for men…an experience which my dad later relayed to me upon his return to the hotel room.
It began with dad spending the night in his car, whilst I unsuspectingly spent it in a mansion of mosaics, me getting lost down all the dead ends in Fes – Morocco’s second largest city – the next day whilst trying to find him, and him subsequently getting arrested – for driving the wrong way down a one way street in a restricted area without a valid permit.
We arrived late in Tangier, and after eventually finding a hotel, that looked more like a derelict house, we were advised to stay in our rooms, to ‘be locking of our doors’ and ‘not have worry of the danger people outside’. Because if anyone did break in, the hotel manager would beat them with a large wooden pole he kept behind his desk. I could see we were in for an interesting night.
DEALING WITH THE FRENCH:
Our two day stint in France involved arguments with police (contrary to advice we’d been given, turns out it’s illegal to hitch hike in France!)
Transvestite encounters, despair at derelict roundabouts, your average French and Lithuanian hitch hikers lending their advice and lots of kerbside dancing in cardboard boxes.
The Adventures of Elle Coco 