16k magazine - first issue

I S S U U F I R S T

0 1 . 1 0 . 2 0 1 6

I f You’re readi ng thi s i t p roba b ly mea ns You’re not fishing, so You’re wasting time. But tha nk you.

19°16’

FU C K YO U FU CK CO N V E NTIO NAL P E O PL E FU CK S E R I O U S MAN FU CK P H ILO S O PH E R S FU CK F U C K E R S FU CK H ATE R S FU C K YO U

81°20’4

58.8”N

fed

is all

dedicated

of

us,

taught

to us

fishing,

how

to

that

live

and

uni-

grow

up.

To all the minnows and flies we left on the trees.

To

all

ting

fishing

the

broken

lines

fishing

and

the

poles,

waders

the

full

of

rotholes.

To all the colds we got after hours spent under the rain without catching a fish.

To all the miles we have gone and the money we spent to find a new spot and later find out that there is no water.

To the never ending lunches full of wine and laughter.

To the times we have shouted because we caught a fish in the net.

d

t

o

U

s

.

social: /16kmag

e

Contact: info@16kmagazine.com

t

Rock Star: Massimo Pagani

a

Translator: Andrea Battista

c

Bbq: Davide Valla

i

Contributors: Marco Vismara

d

Photographers: Marco Viganò (mv) Davide Perego (dp) Dario Simone (ds)

e

Graphics: Dario Simone Marco Viganò

D

Editor: Nonno Franco

To the all the times we insult each other but we know..we are family.

16k magazine

44.6”W

This

19°16’

81°20’4

58.8”N

44.6”W

16K Magazine FISHING, BULLSHITS & PARTIES An idea that was born in 2015 almost in an instant, then it continued to grow over time, because basically we are jerks, some more than others, some with and some without excuses.

This whole thing has born in Italy, where fishing sucks, or at least, it does not suck, it almost does, nevermind, it looks like it sucks, because fishermen are left alone on their own and water are generally bad managed, apart from a few exceptions.

Another reason why 16K has born, is the intent to relate with the foreing way of conceiving fishing, a way that is pretty different from ours.

We also want to emphasize our own style, which comes from a various background made of punk, hip-hop and hardcore, which is very far away from the classic fishing world, which is usually run by the nobles.

16K has born this way, with the strenght of those who hustle, but want to keep fighting adding the stamina and passion of the minds who love fishing in its true-to-the-bone essence, without embroidery, like we do. People who can feel the feeling of a fish that unhooks himself, blame God for it and then, go for a beer, or maybe four, still talking about that fish, who will gain inches on inches everytime that this story will be told.

19°16’

81°20’4

58.8”N

44.6”W

from 2004

43°38’

V

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6 fish species

115°59’

24 rivers

42.3”N

35.1”W

L

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to 2016

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43°38’

Valtellina is a large alpine valley located in Lombardy, a Northern Italian Region. Its main river is the Adda river, which originates in the Raethic Alps and flows through Bormio , Sondrio, into the Como lake and ends into the river Po. In the upper part, almost till the town of Tirano, the Adda is a typical Alpine stream, quiet small with fast currents, becoming wider near the town of Piateda. The view from the river is astonishing, along its banks there are lots of vineyards, apple trees, farms with horses and cattle. Typical wooden houses and high snowcapped mountains are all around.

The Valtellina waters are well managed by the association UPS of Sondrio that is doing a great job, allowing great times to all anglers that fish these waters. Mostly there are brown and marble trout, huge grayling and some rainbow trout. Even if the Adda river is almost full of fish, it is not an easy river. To reach success usually we use small flies, long tapered leaders and long rods that allow longer cast and proper fishing.

To me, the Valtellina is much more than a fishing spot, this is the place where my best memories where born and great emotion

115°59’

42.3”N

left Low Clouds, amazing water, smell “of salamella” - mv below White mountains, green trees and blue water, the perfect place where catching anything - mv

35.1”W

43°38’

115°59’

right Turn your head, not your laptop. - mv

42.3”N

35.1”W

opposite The release is the most exciting part of fishing, after the lunch, obviously.

- mv

43°38’

115°59’

42.3”N

35.1”W

43°38’

115°59’

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35.1”W

43°38’

10 :32 AM

115°59’

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10:57 AM

35.1”W

46°26’

10°21’2

00.8”N

2 7. 3 ” E

opposite She was risin’ close to the rockface, fucked with an olive emerger pupa. - mv

took place; as a fly fisherman I was born here. Long time ago, in October, around 4 o clock in the morning, my brother and I were waiting for Eugenio, our old and experienced fishing master, we used to call him “uncle”.

Even if we had a quick trip to the river that morning I can still remember the smell of his Zippo lighters, the fresh on my face from the lowered car window, the Ligabue songs, our fishing stories and some real life stuff.

At 6 o clock in the morning we were already into the river, ready for fishing. Even if it was still dark, I can remember that we were not able to see where we were casting our flies, but then other senses come into play, we were hearing for every little sound that could be different from currents and flowing waters. But nothing happened. Only during the sunrise we realized that we were fishing in the wrong place. We were young and not too experienced. When the air became warmer we started to see several fish rising.

We spent lot of time trying to catch fish that continued to rise; while I was casting, my brother used to change his fly, and so did I while he was casting. We used to cast a lot, trying almost all our flies; usually, if after

43°38’

left Come for luch with the king of Valtellina, Guglielmo II the Great. - mv

below Italian pride, Balotelli’s Lambo. - mv

115°59’

42.3”N

35.1”W

43°38’

115°59’

42.3”N

35.1”W

I was having lunch with Gully, and while i was drinking the fourth or the fifth glass of wine i saw a rise.

So i picked up my rod and she rised at the first cast.

43°38’

4141°52° 55 9’ 1’

42.3”N

1395”. 9 1 ”2WN

A very strong run, Gully was already screaming to the eighty during his run to take the net.

Reality was different, 55cm, nice fish, a quick photo, release and another glass of wine.

opposite https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SBnjJtoQ9fQ

43°38’

above Deep water, 4mm tunghsten ball, go heavy or die tryin’. - mv

p e r e g o

i n n e s c a

42.3”N

l a

p e r l i d e

43°38’

115°59’

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35.1”W

43°38’

115°59’

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almost an hour we were not able to catch that specific fish, we used to throw a stone near him to make him swim away. Sometimes we catch some fish, but the point is that Eugenio was always catching fish. Usually we used to reach him, asking him wich fly he was using and what were our mistakes.

“Small grey dry fly” was his answer, we quickly changed our flies and started to catch some brownies, marble trout, rainbows and even grayling, doing the “great Italian fresh water Slam”. Every fish was a catch, we were not looking after the size of the fish, the last catch was like the first one, the most important thing was the feeling during each rise of every single fish on my fly. These sensations make me feel love for fly fishing.

After several years I started to fish the Adda river again, even if due to several flood the river is quiet different today, but the fish are still there, not only, they are even bigger now. Our fishing philosophy is even different today, we laugh and joke more and are constantly looking for a bigger catch.I’d like to tell you a short story that happened few months ago.

It was almost lunch time and after a whole morning of fly fishing we started to have our lunch along the river bank, we were having some typical cheese and a glass of good local wine. The smell of some lovely sausage heated on the fire was almost irresistible, but with the corner of my eye I saw a stran-

35.1”W

43°38’

115°59’

42.3”N

35.1”W

43°38’

115°59’

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35.1”W

43°38’

C I ELO GRIG I O, ACQUA ALTA E VE L ATA , CO N D I Z I O N I P ER FET T E PER I L PESCIONE . FO RS E .

115°59’

42.3”N

ge move on the water surface; yes, it was a rise of a good fish. I stood up quickly with my rod and walked to the river, but then all my friends started to shout and laugh at me; I didn’t care, I wanted to catch that fish. Once I reached the proper place I went down on my knees so the fish could not see me and continued to rise. I stood there for a little while watching at the head of that amazing fish.

Then I quickly tied my fly and did my first cast, but then the fly started to drag on the water surface, nothing. I did another, better cast, no drag this time, the fly stood in the proper place for a little while, I was holding my breath, the fish opened its whole mouth and took my fly. The fish was on ! After a nice fight Guglielmo helped me netting that fish with his big red net. A nice brown, 55cm long was in that net. I took a quick picture and immediately released that fish. I went back to my friend with a great smile on my face, but this time they were not laughing, they were just eating as fast as they could, few of them were already fishing.

Marco Viganò

a rega z z i n o

35.1”W

p izzoccher i, scia tt e n eb b iol o

ma x 30°c mild was h i ng , do no

W A S H M A C H cold temp era ture, m o de rate

o t bleach , d o n o t tum b l e dr y

H I N G H I N E h o t iron in g , d o n o t d r y c l ean

32°40’3

5 d el m atti no, 4 cazzate, 3 p i nucc i , 2 caffè , 1 camo gli.

117° 9’2

34.19″N

27.58″W

Few things make me go nuts for real: girls, beer, Roman mixed fries, coffe, a bassline, gin, girls, a big bag of San Carlo Rustiche fries, Braulio and did I mention girls already?

Well, ain’t few things to be honest, but the amount does not mean much, ‘cause nothing keeps me awake at night the most as the idea of reaching the pier when is still dark and the seagulls are making noise already, you can hear them now, before leaving the harbor, then silence, then you can hear them again, a bit more far, not that much tho, because of the wind coming from the sea which brings their sound toward us, watch my teammates and try to smile, a smile that usually leads to an idiotic laughter because the adrenaline is too high and pushes the diaphragm against the chest.

At night I cannot think beyond, many would say that they cannot sleep thin-

Guarda che sole Guarda che mare

32°40’3

117° 9’2

34.19″N

27.58″W

oppposite Tipical example of jigging seagull. - mv

below Amazing jacket, thanks to my sponsor Antonella srl - mv

usciamo dal porto, fotta peso, mangianze ovunque, madonne e gabbiani che volano

4 34 2° °2450’’13

117° 9’2

13 94 .”1992″ NN

27.58″W

opposite The tuna, catching in the middle of the feeding frenzy, had caught a real anchovy. - mv

32°40’3

above The tuna, catching in the middle of the feeding frenzy, had caught a metal anchovy. - mv

fate

sempre

34.19″N

il

catch&release

32°40’3

117° 9’2

34.19″N

27.58″W

above Frigate tuna’s texture. - mv

centre Anchovies in oil. - mv

below Red Tuna’s texture. - mv

king about the sight of tuna, the noise of the reel’s clutch, the back broken at the end of the day and so on, but I cannot go beyond the thought of that giggle.

In fact it is so: we are three including Dario, who has never fished over a fish forage frenzy. The boat is already in the water and when we are doing the last check before leaving the port, we see the first gulls dive into water less than 300 meters from coast. Me and Marco stare Dario and he starts laughing, but that douche ain’t know why he’s laughing for yet. Usually it is not so easy but today we go out and we have to decide on which forage to go, we choose the closest one, the first cast is for Dario, he casts indeed but the metal jig goes far, perhaps too far, surely too far away, so far that we are still waiting for it to hit the ground. We make fun of him, but it is actually normal, knees are shaking and trembling to everyone, every time you have to cast over a fish forage frenzy.

The rest of the morning is a continuous descent, the fish abounds and the seagulls are always there to show us the position to follow, they dance in the air and throw themselves into the water, but you can never follow their descent ‘till the end because, before they touch the water, your gaze shifts on the water splashes of the bonitos who launch themselves reaching 80kph inside the anchovy ball, your ear stops to hear the screaming gulls and makes space to the noise created by the skipjacks who do not hold back and

t o r n a

d a

m e

32°40’34

117° 9’2

4.19″N

27.58″W

t r a

6 0 k g

32°40’3

left I was watching to the left, but the feeding frenzy was to the right, i’m ray charles and i saw the light. - mv

117° 9’2

34.19″N

27.58″W

32°40’3

117° 9’2

34.19″N

27.58″W

32°40’3

literally shoot themselves out of the water. I love go spinning in these occasions, I like to keep the clutch a bit loose just enough to let them run around and feel every movement of their tail in my rod, I go bonkers for that.

Marco ain’t like that. He prefers to fly fish for tuna and even if he has a broken shoulder he casts with his left hand way better than all of us on the boat with our stronger hand. He likes to fish with a floating line, a tail 8, and a gummy minnow, because he loves to see the skipjacks literal-

117° 9’2

34.19″N

27.58″W

ly eat the “fly” from the water’s surface and then pump ‘em up bending the rod ‘till below the boat.

I could tell thousands of these stories without getting bored, everything is fascinating when it comes to this kind of fishing, from the marvelous scenario offered by the Mar Ligure, to the idea itself of following the seagulls with an almost common intent.

They might do not know about ours goal, but they are actually cooperating with us in order to turn our fishing adventure into

32°40’3

above Look at to the bucket in the in the bottom right corner, it’s not fish’s blood, is Valla on his period. - mv

opposite the reel was singing, the #8 was totally bent and my heart was pounding out of my chest.

I’m a fucking poet, bitch. - mv

117° 9’2

34.19″N

27.58″W

B

L

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E

32°40’3

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g

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117° 9’2

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27.58″W

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32°40’3

117° 9’2

34.19″N

27.58″W

above hands, reel, butt - mv

left Catch of the day. Anchovy on gummy minnow. - mv

below no hands, no reel, no butt - mv

32°40’3

a success. Then the about this whole story tely avoided to mentio feelings one feels whe many and so different, tion won’t do the trick

And about the laughte beginning, that stupid to hear during some b our friends, that laug soundtrack of the who the time comes, there’ Not

eve

left and right Further we go and more and more our dickheads

117° 9’2

34.19″N

frenzy, the real thing y. Something I accuraon before, because the en in front of it are so , that a simple descripk.

ter I mentioned at the giggle that we’re used booze-nights out with ghter turns to be the ole day, because when ’s nothing this cool.

en

girls.

Davide Valla

e the world seems small s seems bigs - mv

27.58″W

B E E R

B E F O R E

C H U

4 °

C E L S I U S

D R I N K

I N U T I L E

C H E

Z O O M M I

P E R

L E G G

E

R E A D I N G ,

P L E A S E .

N O N

C ’ È

S C R I T T O

N U L L A .

W E T

G E R E ,

9 2 %

B B Y

9.00 am, freaking headache.. Imma go for a single pint next Friday. Word! Only in the winter time I do not blame myself for getting out of bed this late to go fishing, I guess is useless to give up booze and friends rather than freezing my arse at sunrise... at least I think. Like every weekend, after a quick round of phone calls, some braveheart, pissed with his Sunday lazyness joins for a good and quick fishing session. It looks too late already to reach any spot, except for the ones we know best: ditches and small streams behind our houses, the ones we used to fish in in every condition of water and weather.

Not bad I’d say! Rod? Whatevs.. the first coming out off the closet. Reel? Line? I guess is a 3.5, nice color tho, it deserves to be used.

Breakfast, cigarette, some jokes, some flies stolen one from the other and than down to the river.

During the winter time we are used not to expect for great results, but sometimes some sessions can be memorable, not in terms of numbers, but surely quality ones, at least for the good company.

After watching the river for some minutes one can have the impression of fishing in a different world, where everything flows in a more calm and quiet way. Like chubs, those nice fat fishes who use to rise on the surface with a disarming lazyness, those bastards are some great opponents tho!

They have the power of making you tie up

41°18’

chub spett scure

right That morning was foggy more than the Bulldog in Amsterdam - mv

81°54’0

14.1�N

b+by is not for all, is very sotoso like perego when do a eggia

06.1�W

- Daryo Simone

41°18’

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o

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81°54’0

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06.1”W

g

e

s

41°18’

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opposite https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=UePtoxDhJSw

above skins of a golden chub+by - mv

41°18’

wai t i ng

smok ing

81°54’0

14.1”N

06.1”W

rai si ng

left Aliens arrive and trouts stop to rise. - mv

casting

right 50mm – f2.8 – 1/250 Fog, soft light. - dp

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S

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41°18’

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opposite Classic example of tail of a fish raised in captivity. - mv

below We’re lucky that Muggiasca doesn’t wear his Rapala’s red hat in winter.

- mv

41°18’

81°54’0

14.1�N

opposite Stones, simply stones that watch theirself in the mirror. - dp

left Chub in his tipical habitat, a small sewer. - dp

06.1�W

below Example of fish that shines its light.

- cd

41°18’

wai t i ng

smok ing

per l’ultimo lancio non è mai troppo tardi

flies you forgot to have, making you feel like you will catch them at the first cast... but this is what they will do to you: they will make fun of you. And you’ll get pissed off for real!

Sometimes, thank God for this, they can be wrong too. If we do not anticipate too much the strike, like we usually do, after a quick and clumsy fight, we’ll find in our net a plumpy fish with its gold scales who is freezing as much as we do, and who is surely not happy for having been cheated. Time for a picture and a quick ‘’bye-bye-see-you-soon’’.

In this way days go by real quick and in a pleasant way. The sun goes down, we are hungry and thristy, is about time to have a beer together, laughin’ and looking back at the pics taken before.

Anything better than this? Now lets just make up a couple of new flies for the next Sunday and than back home. Fog, leafless woods looking like dead ones, colors have been switched off.. chubs rising quitely, water is low and the riverbed looks so dark.. our noses are always draining because of this damn cold. But I can never leave all of this..

Is it because I am too used to it?

I do not think so, bonefish and atlantic salmons are at the fingertips for few lucky ones.

But I feel lucky of having my beloved rivers right behind my house.

Davide Perego

81°54’0

14.1”N

06.1”W

rai si ng

casting

41°18’

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m a y

S L O V E

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2 0 1 6

E N I J A

i d r i j c a

19°56’

Perry where the heck are you? Dario and Marco will be here, at my place, friday at 6pm.

Would it be weird if I get there covered in concrete on a bike driven by Hamed?

Let’s just pack the car up and go.

After a ‘’calm’’ trip, as pumped as a bunch of Irish guys on San Patrick’s day, we finally make it to the hotel at about midnight, we are tired for sure, but buzzing! Before going to sleep we set up the fishing lines, pick the flies, make some mess, I break one of my fingers… everything goes as planned, 3 am… time to sleep. The alarm was screaming ‘’SAVA’’, we get ready and hit the fishing shop, very small, but very cool indeed, while smelling a huge fart made by the dog who was below the counter, we pay the permission to fish, tell a couple of jokes and go.. just the time to have a look below the bridges and we suddenly recognize we arrived in another dimension. Colours I’ve never seen in my life.

Marco and Dario start fishing with nymphs over a nice spot where the water flows quick, immediately they get some results…

Marco infact slips over some rocks and almost break his arse, but he is the first one who catches a fish, a nice and reactive rainbow. I decide, for some reason, to hit the water with a cdc made dry fly over a more calm spot, where the water is much deeper. I saw

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19°56’

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all pic Epic trip starter pack: - 6.00 a.m. Pizza - Asshole with salom - 3 dickheads - too much graylings

T H R S LT F G R Y L N G

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left 10 minutes of crying, no more. - dp right apollo 13 - dp

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some fish there and…in less than ten minutes we are all casting in the same spot, tryin’ to catch one of those garylings we were able to see from the water’s surface! AMAZING. The day goes by through graylings, nymphs, dry flies, graylings and some more graylings.. beautiful fishes, light coloured, but we miss the big one tho. Exception is Dario, who were able to catch a nice grayling (over 48 inches in lenght) at his first cast over another spot in less than span of water! Not bad for a guy who is fly fishing since less than one year. Isn’t it? My day ends after 9 pints, a whole bunch of jokes and stories of giant

above 48cm – arpo CDC ntural brown - #14 on my watch = coolest fish of the trip, no way. - mv

19°56’

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19°56’

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fishes who were able to break our lines, our rods, and – who knows why – we were never be able to land.

Next morning we move on the Idrica river! A marble trout spot! Just hearing that name, I get my skin covered in thrills…best exsisting fish! Marble trout! It’s very hot outside, not the best conditions, but our excitement is unstoppable and, after some decent rainbows landed during the morning, we decide to move. We get the car and move to the lower part of the river. Once over a bridge, we decide to have a glance from the guard rail and..and fucking hell…

That’s it..there she is.

She’s big, very big.

Laying on the river’s ground, calm, still, with that big head marked by the electric blu of her cheek. How many times I’ve dreamt about you? Marco decides to give it a try, but the river’s conditions are not friendly. FUCK! Our meeting ends when she decides to turn her back around, showing all of her grace, and get back in her hole. Disappearing.

Speechless, but even more buzzing, we get back to fishing. A lil’ bit more downstream, we catch some more rainbows and some marble and hybrid of decent size. We give

h o l y

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h o l y

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s h i t

19°56’

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opposite Big grayling on dryfly, it’s always a pleasure. - dp

above Urban landscape with cimney. - dp

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below We always love to send us to fuck, expecially in the morning. - ds

19°56’

above https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lDieM6jM61w

69°38’0

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01.8�W

below Any reference to real people or real events is purely coincidental. - ds

our best till the evening comes. We catch some more trout, but we miss her, a big marble on the dry fly.

Last day.

We diehards.

WE HAVE TO LAND THAT FISH FOR FUCK SAKE! Needless to tell you about the whole fishing day… a terrible heat from morning to the evening, a whole lotta buch of jokes and a couple of great images like beards full of mayo and beers overthrown onto our hats.

Even tho we are a bit worried for the approaching evening, and when it comes, we finally hit an hot spot that, last year gave us a big marble caught on the dry.

Exactly there, in her calm corner, we find her.

We saw her, but its way too dark to understand her size. We just know is a big one.

Marco casts. A new line, correct fly and, after some casts, there she is !!! Tension rises to the top, the rod bends like a perfect ‘’U’’ and Marco is screaming! Then everything stops. Rod gets back in line all of a sudden, everything just stops. A minute of silence fulled with our deep sorrow and a tremendous amount of blasphemy.After a brief check we understand that that bitch ain’t broke the line, she just unhooked herself. And she was big, really really big! Still incredulous, with the net still in my hand, I sat on the shore, still looking at that magic corner.

19°56’

mom schiu no.

right Thank to the wind blowing, after 800 casts, i’ve been able to net a good one. - mv

69°38’0

57.0�S

mento perfetto. Luce giusta, usa da sogno, pesci che bolla-

01.8�W

opposite Photo that needs no description, Idrijca’s marble. - dp

19°56’

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7N4S7MJf6Iw

left I’ll stop smiling in three days - dp

p u r e

m a r b l e

t r

57.0”S

o u t

o f

i d r i j c a

19°56’

69°38’0

57.0”S

01.8”W

19°56’

69°38’0

57.0”S

01.8”W

19°56’

69°38’0

57.0”S

01.8”W

left not the best of the trip, but probably the most impossible.pesce del trip. - dp

‘’How the hell does she unhooked, come on!’’ ‘’I just know it fucking pisses me off’’ ‘’You ain’t even forced it’’ ‘’I know. Bad luck I guess’’ ‘’From a distance it felt like… NO WAY!’’ ‘’What?’’ ‘’Can’t belive it…she still there’’ In one minute, trust me, we were able to recognize three different fishes exactly in the same spot where this mess just happened.. and it looks like they are feeding. Maybe we frightned the big one, so the smaller ones decided to hit the spot and feed. We don’t know. In a few casts we land two hybrids and a marble (56, 49 and 55 inches each), beautiful fighters and well deserved fishes.. for a crazy end of the day. These fishes are what we came for, we looked for them and we made it to Slovenia to catch them. It’s dark when we get to the car, we are smiling in a big way, we keep on tell ourselves what just happened, like we weren’t there to witness the whole thing.

We’ll back soon Slovenia.

We salute you, fucking bitch.

Daivde Perego

19°56’

69°38’0

57.0”S

01.8”W

100

KM

1899

BY

KM

BY

80

TROUT

1

BROKEN

1 500€ 1 74 99

IPHONE

ROD

FOLKS

PINKIE

SPAGHETTI IN

INSULTS

THE FOR

HAVE

CAR LANDED

BROKEN FOR

FEET

BEEN

SOUPS WATER ZHORAN “BAMMED’’

3 DICKHEADS ON THE RIVER: MARCO, DAVIDE AND DARIO.

The photographer

Marco Vismara Marco Vismara was born in Inveruno, near Milan, in 1963. He has discovered photography around his twenties and started to shoot mountain landscapes of Northern Italy. He soon developed a great passion for the Indian continent and the Himalayas and decided to start his discovery for distant lands.

During those years spent travelling he learnt how to survive and live off these lands, mixing up with the mountain culture and its traditions, in order to be able to communicate the emotions and sensations related to those places in the most authentic way possible.

He has been able to collaborate both with articles and photographic material with relevant Italian magazines such as: Donna, Oasis, Diario, Popoli, In The World and Arco.

Delhi has to be felt as a rest from the City in which he usually stays before taking off to the Himalayan wide surroundings. With these pictures he introduces us to a visual and emotional path which leads to the discovery of the Indian Capitol City, that has been shot in its everyday reality, that is pretty far from the western imaginary and the related myth.

A City pictured by the sensitive eye of a photographer who gave us an exceptional portrait of normality, something that we often tend to forget to mind to when we are exploring exotic places.

previous page:

PAHRGANJ: “Sagome e Luci” Busy streets durin the evening.

CONNAUGHT PLACE: “L’edicola” A western piece in the middle of indian culture

JAMI MASJID: “L’ora del the” In the afternoon, some man taking a break

NEW DELHI RAILWAY STATION “Il Riposo” Waiting someone or something, a young man sleeps on a temporary bed.

NEW DELHI RAILWAY STATION “Come in Prigione” The window’s bars of the car discourage those which want to travel without the ticket.

He sees a nice brown raising over the bank

He loses a big marble trout

He likes to sing “piccola Katy”

He releases the first tuna of the year

Follow us on socia l /16kma g

I f You’re readi ng thi s i t p roba b ly mea ns You’re not fishing, so You’re wasting time. But tha nk you.

I S S U U F I R S T

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Look M om! i ’m on a ma ga zine!