There are corners of the world that can catapult you into another dimension. They are places where you breathe a different air, where everything seems to take on another value; where sweat, passion, time change into something you can feel and see.
I was walking when, attracted by the noises, I look out that door with a shy "Good Morning!". It seemed that I had passed through a "Stargate" to fall back 50 years earlier, if it wasn't for a nice cartoon about Silvio Berlusconi.
Inside was him, gruff but kind, slightly annoyed by my presence but at the same time proud of the interest I showed in him. I asked him if I could take some shots of him with an indifferent air, and he answered me that he didn't care. He mumbled about how that was a long, tiring and "useless" job... all that effort to fix an old boat that nobody wanted anymore. "There are few of us left to do this hard work, it takes time, sweat and passion" he said, mumbling in dialect between a hammer blow and a saw.
Every time I come across this kind of reality I think about how important some photos are, and that as some wines get older the more valuable they become. When one day all this will no longer be there, only these shots will remain as a testimony, only then will we taste their real value.