You meet a lot of people travelling. From different walks of life. Somehow their paths crossed yours at this particular point.

This week I met Max.

A true gentleman.

Having spent the last few days visiting his 96 year-old deaf mother, he expressed his delight at being entertained by three young ladies with good hearing (and me). But in reality he was the one doing the entertaining.

After life as a lawyer, he was now enjoying his retirement as a photographer and a collector. This was a man with a few stories to tell.

He’d brought us to his favourite oceanfront restaurant. In his words, not the best food in town, but not expensive. The best well-priced seafood. And not served out a can like the rest of the tourist traps he detests. He arrived early to wait in line for us. There are no reservations allowed here. After a short wait, we were first to be seated. For the rest of the night, people queued down the square to get in.

After ensuring we were seated according to etiquette (alternating male/female seats), he walked us through his recommendations on the menu (we had to try the sardines!), and order Rose wine for the table.

Of course, Rose is having a resurgence thanks to its bright colour that pops perfectly on social media.

He grew up in Spain but crossed the border to France as a child. He’s a collector of old silver, and furniture from specific 17th Century craftsman. All his furniture at home is made by one, dead, man. He also loves to drink. His collections, and wine are his “vices”. We all have them, he says, and it’s far better to spend money on old silver, than on hard drugs. It’s not clear if he’d traded one for the other in his past life. It wouldn’t have surprised me though.

He also loves collecting silk warp prints. He buys rare specimens, and his girlfriend wears them out to parties. Nowadays you can find lots of replica style prints in the market, but he only cares for ones with real craftsmanship.

He visited North Korea once. You don’t get to take photos in North Korea. But you do get to hear and see a lot of communist propaganda. Most people simply nod along. But not Max. He tried to deeply engage with his guides. Made them feel like he respected what they had to say. Found ways to offer them gifts.

In return for his generosity, Max was allowed to take photographs. Because he treated them like friends, and not as an enemy of the government.

When asked what kind of camera he shoots with, he proclaimed…

“The camera doesn’t matter!”

…before pulling a Leica out of his bag. He only ever uses a Leica.

If you know nothing anything about cameras, that’s like asking someone what car they use to get around, and hearing them claim that what car you have doesn’t matter…before driving off in a top of the range Porsche.

He wishes his daughter would give him a grandchild. He wants the joy of watching a child grow up to counteract the sadness of the decline of his mother’s health, and his own.

It reminded me of a story from Norse mythology. In the hall of the Giants, the god Thor is challenged to a wrestling match. He is pitted against Elli - the oldest, most frail looking female giant in the hall. Thor laughs at his competitor. That is, until he feels the strength of her grapple. It’s not long before the magnificent Thor loses. Later, it’s revealed that Elli is the personification of old age.

Nobody wins against old age in the end.

In three generations, everyone who knew your name will be forgotten.