Say what you like, but Tony Blair is no cowboy

Tony Blair is about to be exposed for the country type he isn't. Forget those studied appearances in blue jeans: next weekend is dude ranch time, when the city slicker from Downing Street goes deep into the heart of Texas to visit his friend Dubya.

Make no mistake. This stay at George Bush's ranch is an honour for the Prime Minister, one vouchsafed by the president to just two other leaders since he took office: Vladimir Putin of Russia and that other rancher from south of the Rio Grande, Vincente Fox of Mexico. The third political pillar of North America, Prime Minister Jean Chrétien of Canada (or "Dino", as this old-fashioned centre-leftist is disparagingly known by the Bush crowd) conspicuously has not been invited.

Now it is the turn of America's most faithful European friend to stay at Mr Bush's 1,600-acre spread called Prairie Chapel, just outside the town of Crawford. There the two leaders can don cowboy belts and hats and chew over Iraq, Afghanistan and the shambles in the Middle East.

To be sure, central Texas isn't the first place which springs to mind for an ideal getaway weekend. But if you have to go there, spring is the time. In April, the rolling land is green and almost beautiful. The dust, flies and the 100F temperatures of summer are still months away.

So what will greet Mr Blair when he arrives at the ranch? Mr Bush is genuinely one for the great outdoors. Left to his own devices, he likes nothing better than a three-mile jog, followed by breakfast, then some chopping of wood.

Mr Blair is unlikely to be subjected to this kind of workout by arguably the fittest US president in a century – though as one British official quietly dreading the event confessed, "I'm sure there'll be some sort of country experience." If Mr Blair is lucky he'll get the Putin treatment: a one-on-one tour of the range, maybe riding shotgun, like Vladimir, on the presidential pick-up truck.

As for hunting (totally politically incorrect back home) and shooting ("Tony hasn't touched a gun since he was in the CCF at Fettes," a Blair connoisseur confides), forget it. Riding's out too – Dubya is no great horseman. Perhaps, though, a little fishing – another pastime of Mr Bush – on the seven-acre lake at Prairie Chapel, which is stocked with bass. Whether the Prime Minister is an angler is unclear. But if he isn't, the chances are he'll give it a go.

And if Mr Blair's golfing experiences with Bill Clinton at Chequers are any indication, he'll haul out bass by the bucketful. The former president roused his host at 6am to join him for a game the Prime Minister had never played. Irritatingly, but quite typically, he showed a rare and instant talent.

In barely a year, Mr Blair seems to have made the ideological and personal adjustment from Clinton to Bush easily. For the ladies, though, bonding may not have been so instant. Laura Bush is not the natural lawyer soulmate for Cherie Blair that Hillary was.

Before their first meeting, Laura enthused on the phone about a book she had just read. It turned out to be a Gone With The Wind-style dynastic saga which Cherie had neither the time nor, perhaps, the inclination to finish. She ploughed through some of it on the plane to Washington.

But by day's end, all will surely be fine. After a quiet family meal on the Friday evening when Mr Blair arrives, a right old Texan do with the locals is planned for the Saturday. And after the guys have settled Saddam Hussein's fate over steaks, catfish and black beans and corn, what better than a little cowboy music?

At that point, Tony might just pick up a guitar and sing, as he did in his Oxford days. He may not be a country boy, but a bit of country and western would not come amiss.