The tourist is the traveller, the one who travels to collect memories, meets a different culture and questions traditions and stereotypes. Most of the times what he finds is different from what he is used to. Nothing is ordinary in the eyes of a traveller. Since he is the newcomer he is the one considered extraordinary.
My first encounter of this extra-ordinary, newcomer was when I was four years old. He was a tall man with long blonde hair and blue eyes. When I asked my parents who he was they simply called him, the tourist.
Greece is a country with many travellers and recalling the prologue of the fist French blue guide for “Grèce” “travel to Greece requires a certain effort of adaptation”. The truth is that wherever you travel the same rules apply.
Since this very first travel guide was published a new stereotype was born. A person with white skin and light coloured eyes was always the traveller, always the touristand was always the one who spoke a different language and his skin was sensitive under the bright sun.
In my lifetime I met many travellers, each with a different sense of humour and different eating habits. Since I am not living in own my country anymore I am considered now as the traveller. The roles have changed.
Now I am the out of the ordinary, the newcomer and the one who has a different sense of humour and undying curiosity.
I explore this new state through photographing portraits of people I have encountered, who some of them have become my friends, my colleagues, my lovers. I am closer than ever to the extra-ordinary and slowly becoming familiar with its existence. However in the back of my mind it will remind me the tall man with long blond hair and blue eyes whom I was always curious to know and my parents simply called him, the tourist.