Imaging USA 2007 San Antonio.

The Worst part of any journey besides the preparation, is the waiting at airports, although the same applies for seaports, or any kind of god forsaken port.
But I am always amused by run ins with custom officials, minds that can’t think outside there bureaucratic box are entertaining to deal with. When browsing the US travel visa form, there is a question asking were you involved in any nazi human rights abuses between 1939 to 1945. Considering I was born in 1979, I tick no. Other questions include are you entering this country to deal drugs, commit terrorism etc. Somehow I don’t think the people they are trying to filter out will answer yes to any of the above.

The US customs official begins to ask me the usual questions she’s enquired a thousand times before, without enthusiasm. She snaps out of her stupor when thumbing through the stamps in my passport, she comes across some Arabic writing, god forbid…. Oh sorry Allah forbid I ever travel to country where they speak Arabic. She asks what country these are from. I say Morocco. When were you over there, I reply last year. Was it nice, I say yes. I resist the urge for sarcasm, since paranoid customs officials are not known for their sense of Irony.
When finally waiting at the boarding gate I’m looking at the plane, yet the terminal sign is blinking delayed. After two hours waiting for a plane that’s already landed, I spot flashing lights on the runway. Apparently a group of immigrants being deported had escaped from police custody and ran across the runway so all planes landing, had to be ordered to circle the airport. They rounded up most of them but from what I hear one of them is on the loose.

Finally I have the usual colon cleansing food to look forward to, followed by some sentimental drivel starring Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves, something about time travelling love letters. I didn’t quite catch the films name as I was too busy smashing my head against the reinforced window in an effort to induce sleep.

By the time I got to New Wark my connecting flight to Texas had gone so I had to wait 8 hours for the next flight, which in turn was also delayed. Some airline rep tells me “Oh You missed your flight go over there to book the next connecting one” what’s this YOU business that implies it was my fault.


When I take this picture, an airport worker taps me on the shoulder and tells me security might confiscate my camera if they see me. I took photos at Dublin Airport, what’s the problem here. I bought it off ebay for 60 Euro, so I’m not particularly worried. Asking the reason why, he tells it’s for security reasons. I later checked this out, and found out he was talking complete bullshit, they can do no such thing.
I don’t really see the logic in that, how dumb tourists taking snaps of a waiting terminal can jeopardise the facilities safety. Unless they’re using photos of people eating in cafes or on escalators to plan attacks.

After the Marathon of delays and flights I finally arrive in San Antonio. I didn’t know what to expect, all I knew about it was the Alamo and that’s all. I thought it would be a small town with cowboys chewing tobacco, but instead it was easily one of the nicest American cities I’ve ever been to. The River Walk area had a real cosmopolitan feel to it almost European. With clean streets and friendly people.

Outside my hotel was a really old school theatre called the majestic.

The Famous Alamo.

A screaming brat I know how he feels.

This sign was outside a tourism info office? The wild west Baby.

Stuffed rabbits with Antlers, a slice of Americana?

Some Fucking Clown.

Some kids on these crazy motor thingy's, I have no Idea what they are on.

A cowboy deep in thought. The only cowboy I ever saw in Texas.

Henry B Gonzales Convention Centre. Where the magic happens.

Inside this stair case looks like a giant number 2. Spotted leaveing the mens room.

When I think of San Antonio I think of stairs.

More crazy ass stairs. I waited ages for someone to walk down them. No Dice.

Ghosts on the river walk.

The River walk.

M.C Escher must have been here. Pity the light was shit I’d say this looks cool in summer.

My bad luck did continue, a freak weather storm hit the south west US. The first day the climate was already taking a turn for the worst, but I could still walk around and get a feel for the city.
My parents had spent a few days already there before the convention, and said the weather was lovely till I arrived. That’s what I get for being a cheapskate.

When I woke for the first day of the convention the television announced roads around the city were already being closed, and over the next few days it got worse where even schools and public buildings closed.

The Convention itself was a photo geeks wet dream. The range of booth and wares on offer was astounding, although the majority were sporting snake oil.

The talks and lectures were also of huge variety, that ranged from either outstanding to walking out half way through.

The only time this guy will ever get a model on her back.

This Girl just collapsed in the middle of the floor.

Other People exhausted by it all.

Amanda http://evlrose.deviantart.com/and Eugene at the Photo express booth.

The Leica booth. If I ever win the lottery I’ll buy some of there stuff.

The second day I met Mark http://markgreenbergphoto.com/, Darrenhttp://www.darrenabate.com/, and Davehttp://davegarcia.deviantart.com/. Couldn’t meet up with them for pints later due to the road closures. Besides most business’s in the city closed because no staff showed up.
Needless to say I did go out drinking with some well known Irish photographers. Who I’ll be blackmailing when I get home, thats all I'll say.

The final Imaging USA Awards Ceremony. 3 hours of Hell.

Although Abraham Lincoln did rise from the dead to attend the ceremony.

Me and Barbara were the last people in the convention, to be hanging about till security threw us out. She's a photographer from Italy.

A frozen palm tree in Texas?

My original plan was for a road trip across Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and California. But the prospect of that Happening was beginning to look grim. Nearly all major roads and highways out of the city were shut down.
So flying across to Arizona was my best option, and to leave New Mexico to another trip.
It cost an outrageous booking fee to book the flight in 24 hours notice. My only good bit of travel luck so far was that my flight was only about one of the three flights that were not delayed or cancelled.
So Arizona was next, less words more pictures.