Return of the Genius Photographer - Chapter 97

I spoke in a teasing tone.

“There’s Kang Soo-jin’s graceful ballerina foot.”

Then, chuckling, I added, “And there’s Park Ji-sung’s well-trained, athletic foot.”

Kang San frowned. “Just be quiet and apply the ointment.”

As I rubbed cream onto Kang San’s burned foot, I couldn’t help but tease him again.

“And now, here’s the mighty Kang San’s foot…”

“Hey! Be gentle!”

“How can I be more gentle than this?”

After wrapping up the shoot, we had made our way down the mountain and were finally resting at our accommodation.

“Are both of you laughing right now?”

With Tony present.

“Clearly, both of you are out of your minds. Thank goodness I was there to look after you; you nearly got yourselves killed.”

Tony said, wearing an expression of deep frustration as he glanced at me and Kang San, who were still grinning.

“Ahem…”

“I’m sorry…”

At Tony’s words, I fell silent while Kang San turned his gaze toward the distant mountains.

At the end of his line of sight was Mount Etna, now glowing a deep crimson.

“Be a bit more cautious. What good are photos if you end up dead? Got it?” Tony scolded us.

Indeed, Tony must have been the most shaken of us all.

He had watched us dash up the mountain while he was helping evacuate others.

And since we didn’t come down for a long time, he had no idea what had happened.

If a volcano reached its critical point, it would release toxic gases, along with tremors, flames, and rocks erupting from cracks.

With such dangerous conditions, it wouldn’t have been surprising if something had gone wrong…

Though Kang San ended up burning his foot, we were lucky to have stopped when we did.

In fact, if Tony, who had been so worried, hadn’t driven up to rescue us, we could have been in serious danger.

Thinking back to how the volcano erupted not long after we finally made it down, we realized just how close we’d cut it with the timing of our shoot.

Tony was truly our savior.

“Ugh, I really felt like my lifespan was shortening. I thought your assistant would know better, but I never expected you two to be the same…”

Ahem. I’m sorry…

I tried to stop him, but it didn’t work out well…

“Sorry, I won’t forget that you saved us this time. I’ll be more careful next time.”

Kang San offered a quiet apology to the reprimanding Tony.

“Anyway, just rest for now. With the volcano, air travel will be difficult for a while.”

At this, Tony sighed heavily.

“I have to head to the shelter for work, so if you need anything, just contact me. And please don’t rush out again.”

With that, he left the accommodation, casting a skeptical glance back at us.

Inside the lodging, only Kang San and I remained.

Despite Tony’s concerns, I had no intention of going anywhere.

Perhaps it was the relief settling over me, but I was beginning to feel exhausted.

Besides, Kang San had a burn on his foot. It seemed unlikely that we’d be leaving this place anytime soon…

“Photographer Kang? Where are you planning to go?”

But to my surprise, Kang San was packing his things, getting ready to head out.

“Where do you think? A photographer goes out to take photos.”

“Is your foot okay?”

It couldn’t possibly be.

Flames had spread from his shoe, leaving his entire foot burned. At least his shoes had some heat resistance, but even though the burn was minor, it had to be painful now.

“My foot will heal soon, but opportunities like this don’t come often. If you want to rest, go ahead; I’ll go alone.”

Kang San moved as if he felt no pain at all.

If he could move like that with an injury, I couldn’t just sit still.

“No, I’ll go with you. Just a moment.”

It seemed that resting peacefully would be a challenge.

***

A few days had passed since the volcano photoshoot.

Kang San occasionally ventured close to the bright red lava for a few more shots, but perhaps due to his burned foot or because he had already captured what he wanted, he wasn’t pushing himself as he had before.

Thanks to that, we had been able to take our time and rest comfortably over the past few days.

“You should rest a bit longer and take a plane once you’re fully recovered,” I suggested.

“No, I was planning to travel by land anyway,” he replied.

Time passed.

As the day of the Arles International Photography Exhibition drew near, Kang San finally decided he’d taken enough photos and started preparing to leave.

“I haven’t had much chance to chat with you lately because of the volcano,” Tony remarked, sounding a bit disappointed at the news of our departure.

“That’s a good thing,” Kang San replied, still grumbling.

Watching him from the side, I realized that this was his way of showing camaraderie.

“Please come back someday,” Tony added. “This place is beautiful, even without the volcano.”

“Sure. I’ll get in touch when I come back.”

“Thanks for everything. I really enjoyed it.”

With that, we bid farewell to Tony and left Mount Etna, heading to our final destination—Arles, France.

The journey to Arles was smooth. Located on France’s southeastern coast, the city was fortunately close to Italy, making the route convenient enough that we didn’t need to fly.

We took a ferry from Sicily to the Italian peninsula, then traveled by train along the coastline for a few days. After crossing the border, we decided to stay overnight in Marseille before continuing to Arles.

From Marseille, it was only about an hour to Arles—close enough to reach comfortably the next day.

Though this would mark the end of our journey, arriving in Arles meant a busy schedule and new plans. Before all that, I intended to unwind and shake off the accumulated fatigue.

“I’ll have a crepe, please.”

Marseille felt like a blend of a big city and a resort town.

With the blue Mediterranean Sea and the white buildings, it was a refreshing city.

Even just gazing at the landscape from a distance seemed to relieve my tiredness.

Wanting to explore the city a bit, I stepped outside for a leisurely walk, enjoying the sight of people passing by, and ordered a delicious-looking street food item.

I was already feeling a bit hungry, so it was perfect.

As I casually ordered the crepe, Kang San, who was nearby, asked, “Have you studied some French?”

He seemed surprised that I had ordered so naturally in French.

“Oh… yes. Just a little on the side,” I replied vaguely.

In my previous life, I had traveled abroad as frequently as Kang San does now.

Without an agency, I had dealt with clients from various nationalities, so I had naturally picked up enough basic conversational skills in foreign languages.

I had also visited France quite a few times for various events, so while I wasn’t as fluent as in English, I could manage simple conversations in French.

“Eh, that’s just the level of a tourist who studies a bit, right?” Kang San teased, lifting the corners of his mouth.

Having grown closer during our travels, it was clear he enjoyed teasing me.

“Who knows? I might be better than you, Photographer Kang,” I replied casually.

Amused, Kang San responded with a playful “Oh?” and suddenly switched to French.

“Un idiot peut―il parler?”

(Can an idiot even speak?)

He grinned as he said that.

I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to understand that, or if he was just testing my understanding…

I chuckled softly and responded, “Reflechir (Back at you).”

“What did you say?”

“What do you mean?”

I quickly added, “Je suis coréen et je ne parle pas français. (I am Korean, and I don’t speak French.)”

Kang San looked at me as if he found it hard to believe.

Before he could say anything, I took a bite of my crepe and hurried ahead.

‘What a guy,’ Kang San thought as he watched the retreating Woojin.

“He’s gotten cocky in just a few days.”

It was surprising how much closer they had become.

Before the trip, Kang San never imagined they would develop such a bond.

But it felt nice.

Traveling usually brings about some discomfort, even among close friends.

Yet traveling with Woojin had been pleasant and enjoyable.

It was almost bittersweet to realize they were already nearing Arles.

‘Who would have thought we would hit it off so well?’

Kang San felt relieved that he had brought him along.

It was a holiday that eased both body and mind.

***

The next day, after a short rest, we arrived in Arles without delay.

The city was vibrant with the start of the Arles International Photography Exhibition, filled with photographers submitting their work and tourists enjoying the festival.

Photos adorned every corner of the city.

In addition to the bustling squares filled with people, there were gallery-like booths created for the festival, quiet alleys, telephone poles, the exterior walls of city halls and churches, and even the fences of private homes.

Every possible place for displaying photos had been utilized, transforming the city into a grand gallery—a breathtaking sight for any photographer.

Given the scale of the exhibition, it felt distinctly different from a typical exhibition.

Just the thought that my photo would be displayed here made me quite nervous.

“Looks like you’re nervous,” Kang San remarked, trying to gauge my reaction.

“No, I’m just surprised by the crowd,” I replied nonchalantly.

This thrill felt more like excitement than nerves.

“Well then, let’s head straight to the registration booth.”

The registration booth was set up right in the middle of the largest square in Arles.

There was a long line of photographers waiting to submit their work, which meant we would have to wait for quite a while.

I quickly stepped behind another person in line to secure my spot, but Kang San looked at me oddly and said, “What are you doing? Come over here.”

He then pushed through the dense crowd of photographers to move toward the registration booth.

Ignoring the curious gazes of others, he spoke to the registration staff, and after a moment, she said, “Ah, you’re one of the invited guests.”

The staff greeted him politely and handed him a name tag while explaining, “We assist invited guests with registration separately. Since it’s crowded here, if you head to the building next door, we can take care of everything comfortably there.”

Oh right, he was invited, which I had completely forgotten due to the length of our trip.

It seemed invited photographers received different treatment.

It made sense that they wouldn’t wait in line if they were invited; after all, they were the guests of honor at this festival.

Following the direction indicated by the staff, I saw a large building.

That must be where the invited guests check in.

“Let’s go.”

“Wait? Me too? That place is only for invited guests…”

“Say that again if you don’t want to go.”

Without waiting for a response, Kang San headed toward the building.

I followed him, receiving envious looks from the other photographers still in line.

“Photographer Kang San, what an honor!” the registration staff greeted us warmly as we entered the building.

It was clear they had been eagerly awaiting his arrival.

“I was worried because we couldn’t reach you and you were late,” she said.

“There was some work to do on the way, so I couldn’t contact you,” Kang San replied casually.

“I’m glad to hear everything’s fine. Let me explain the schedule: your lecture is scheduled for the day after tomorrow,” she continued, letting out a sigh of relief.

After confirming everything was okay, she slowly began to explain.

“We’ve already arranged a place for your photos to be exhibited, so if you provide the photos, we’ll prepare them as quickly as possible.”

As she handed out pamphlets with a smile, she added, “We’ve arranged accommodation for you as well, so you can stay at our place while you’re in Arles. Will it be for the two of you?”

The pamphlet included a simple map of Arles, and she pointed out the locations of the accommodation and the exhibition space for Kang San’s photos.

Given Kang San’s fame as a photographer and the fact he was invited, it made sense that they had provided accommodation and set aside a prominent exhibition space.

This was certainly a VIP treatment.

It was almost enviable…

“If you head straight to your accommodation, we will contact you shortly. But may I ask about the person next to you…”

After explaining everything, the staff turned to me and asked.

“He’s my assistant and fellow photographer,” Kang San answered before I could say anything.

“Oh, I see. As a photographer, will your assistant also be submitting work?” she inquired, smoothly transitioning the conversation to the submission process.

Nodding, I confirmed, and she began explaining the submission procedure.

“In that case, please provide us with your basic information and photos, and we will handle the exhibition process for you.”

However, the staff member’s face froze as she searched for available spots to inform us about the exhibition location.

“Um… what should we do?”

She looked quite troubled as she explained, “All the booths and other spaces are currently filled, so the only option left for displaying your photos is in the outskirts, specifically in a less-trafficked alley. Is that alright with you?”

It seemed we had arrived a bit late.

No wonder there were so many people from the start.

The central area of the city was already completely occupied.

The only remaining space was in a peripheral area, in a spot where there were fewer passersby.

‘This was unexpected…’

It was a difficult situation.

Even if critics and industry professionals would gather at the exhibition, they probably wouldn’t venture out to the corners of the city to explore.

At this rate, my plan to use the Arles International Photography Exhibition as a stepping stone for international exposure might fall apart.

“Want me to help? I could lend you my exhibition space if you’d like,” Kang San suggested, seemingly worried about my predicament.

But I declined.

“No, it’s fine.”

“Really? You do know I won’t ask twice, right?”