Buone-sierae, stou cercandou Penzione Xikala“. “Easy, sweet girl, I speak english and I bet your accent is a NewYorker one”. “You’re right, but how can you get it? I been living in Switzerland for a while!“.

Stasera quando le ho viste tentare di far manovra con l’auto in un carruggio dove io non ci stavo di spalle, ho avuto pietà: potrebbero avere la stessa età di mia figlia e spero lei, in un caso simile, incontri un tipo che la aiuti come ho fatto io con le due ragazzotte americane che tentavano in modo improbabile di attraversare il centro storico in auto.

La parte più difficile non è stata la loro diffidenza, ma l’entrare nella loro auto per guidarle verso il posteggio di Porto Antico, e poi, a ritroso, verso la Locanda che avevano prenotato. Se entrare nella Volkswagen miniaturizzata e dare loro indicazioni (tipo “please, do not kill any pedestrian tonight, save them for when I’m not in your car“), la parte più difficile è stata uscire da quella cazzo di auto-microbo a misura di sette-nani, che già Biancaneve si sarebbe strappata la sottana per estrarsi dalla portiera.

Depositate sane e salve dinnanzi al portone della loro pensione, mi son reso conto che l’invito “would you like to drink something with the two of us” meritava un buon bicchiere e qualche foto: per ora però vi faccio solo vedere un paio di scatti fatti oggi nel tardo pomeriggio …

walking 1


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It has been more than fifty years since I began traveling across the world — and the seven seas — for work or for pleasure, always with a Leica M camera close at hand. The camera has never been an accessory; it has been a constant companion, a way of observing, remembering, and making sense of the places and people I encountered along the way. I started keeping this kind of journal some time ago, not as a diary in the traditional sense, but as a space where images and words could meet. This is not a publication driven by schedules or algorithms. At times I disappear for long stretches; then, inevitably, I return with semi-regular updates. Publishing, for me, is a mirror of my state of mind and emotions. It follows my rhythm, not the other way around. You have to take it exactly as it comes. Every photograph you see here is mine. They are fragments of a life spent moving, looking, and waiting for moments to reveal themselves — often quietly, sometimes unexpectedly. This blog is not about destinations, but about presence. About what remains when the journey slows down and the shutter finally clicks.

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