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Ok, here I am, stuck in Fidenza (northern Italy) for a train surprise strike. I’m trying to go back to Rome after attending – as a speaker – a cool new photo festival (FRAME).

Strikes are no big fun. Period. They mess your agenda up, mostly when your life is already a Tetris game.

But sometimes they can turn into nice opportunities for discoveries and nice encounters.

I took my time and walked around the city. It’s a beautiful smal village with a magnificent romantic cathedral. I tried to use my charme on saints and gargoyles to get infos about the strike, but it doesn’t seem to work… Might be a little rusty…

So I kept walking. Sunday morning is lazy here. People are starting get down in the streets and strolling around the historical Center to drink coffees and buy newspapers.

Mid October, a chilly wind is raising.

Everywhere you go in Italy, you can see old men walking around, lonely, with their hands crossed on their back. They walk, they stroll, they never stop.

They just…walk….

I love to follow them and I try to imagine what’s on their mind. The ultimate invasion of privacy.
I better sit down here and watch the town square getting alive.

As in any village of the World, I can spot the “mad” of the town. He’s a pretty nice guy, I must say. It’s clear he’s got mental issues. He walks, walks and walks. Ad he never stops smiling and laughing.

Then he walks, walks, walks…

He’s in front of me right here, right now. He’s looking at me (well, through me) and his having one of those big laughs….

I adore him.

And around us, the walking men walk…