Stopped by an open garage and saw this gentleman sorting out freshly picked olives from his own field. Was tentative about approaching him but told myself “fuck it” and went in. We had a good talk about his three 40+ year old sons, olives and the club he goes to with his mates. I snapped about 20 pics of him but this is the one i like because it was what i saw him do when i walked by. Got out with 1kg of black olives, which will be good to eat next year. Patience.
Continued my walk to by some Mozzarella from Battipaglia. The type of cravings i allow myself on weekends. Across the street were these workers. They thought i was an inspector and approached me wanting to know what my business was. Unwillingly i chose the crappiest line of them all : “i’m a photographer”. I hate saying that out loud but they were visibly pissed off.