Texas! An introduction.

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The sadness that came with driving away from New Orleans was soon washed away as I entered the vast state of Texas and my continued journey into the wilderness. A friend of mine, Luke, is from a small town just north of Houston, where his parents still live. They were incredibly generous and offered to let me stay for a few days. Being on a ranch, in Texan country side, I just couldn't refuse. And oh how glad I was I said yes.

Cynthia and Ray almost immediately took me under their wing and made me feel right at home. Going out of their way to make sure I was comfortable. Cynthia is wonderfully creative, and a delicious cook, and Ray a mischievous Texan with a wicked sense of humour. With me being very gullible I had to think twice at everything Ray said with a side ways glance and an uncertain smile until I knew it was safe to respond. There was also a mutual agreement that neither of us spoke proper english, that is I did not speak Texan, and Ray did not speak British. Conversation was hilarious.

Staying on the ranch was a perfect place to recharge, seeing a completely different side to the US I hadn't seen yet. I saw a cattle auction. That... Was... Interesting, definitely, but also a little distressing seeing the handling of the animals. Following this, I had my first experience of the infamous crawfish, where Ray and his son Jason boiled up a big batch. Actually, more like gargantuan batch. They were delicious! Although so small and fiddle you definitely felt like you worked for your dinner. It did not stop me going back for more and more though!

The next day, they took me out on their boat to the river. That was serenely beautiful. Water lilies the size of my head, turtles in every direction you looked, and the odd lurking alligator. We then popped to Livingston for some Mexican food. And I have to say, so far the best Mexican food I've had so far. The chunky avocado salad I am still dreaming about and have written it down in my food diary. Nuom nuom NUOM!

That same evening I made it known I would very much like to shoot a shot gun. Ray walked into the house, came back with a shot gun, shoved it my hands and said 'shoot it'. Having never held a loaded shot gun before, I kind of held the item in my hands like a dirty wash cloth, but still gripped it afraid that if I dropped it it would explode. 'Erm sorry, but what exactly do I do?' In my extra British tinted accent. Jason took the gun and gave me a 2 second instruction manual of, take off safety, point, pull trigger. Gingerly taking back the gun and I pointed it at the tiny tin can placed on the grass as a target. Let's be honest, I wasn't really aiming at it at all, rather just pointing in its general direction. I took the safety off. I pulled the trigger. I screamed. Flashes of fire, jolts and cannons going off. I went instantly deaf. With it ringing in my ears, Ray shouted, 'pump it and shoot again!!' Not wanting to disappoint, I did just that, pointed, closed my eyes and pulled the trigger again. Screams, bangs, flashes and a very swift 'I don't want to do it again!'. No tin cans were harmed in this event. Literally.

The rest of the days were spent picking blueberries, collecting freshly laid eggs, sitting on porches in rocking chairs, enjoying being outside and great conversation. So far these have been the fondest days of my trip and I will forever be greatful 😊

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