My approach to Porto Tolle was completely unsystematic. Looking at myself from the outside, I can almost say that I behaved like a real tourist, wandering around the area and, unless told what to look at, either seeing nothing or seeing what I had already imagined in my head. I had a vague literary map in my head, which I describe in the book dedicated to the residency. I chose to go around taking photographs instead of filming, without any presumption of knowing what I was doing.

The photographs I collected during my week were compiled into a cardboard photo album, which I then presented during the project's final evening. It became the story of my “trip to the Delta.” I bought this album in a household goods store on the main street of the village and had the photos printed by a photographer nearby. While I was waiting for the prints, I chatted with him and discovered that he was the same young singer who had entertained us at the rice festival on the first day of our arrival. He belongs to the second generation of photographers and ballroom dancers in his family. He kindly showed me some family albums on the counter, depicting his mother's orchestra touring the area since the mid-1980s: a real blast from the past, a family archive of minibuses, sequins, mosquitoes, and dance halls. Who knows, perhaps if I had entered his shop earlier, my project would have taken a completely different direction, focusing precisely on them.

The following are some photos taken during the week and included in the trip album.