The road, our path, can be written in words, but we also know it through faces fixed in a fraction of a second, landscapes shaped like stubborn shadows, pure lines recreating sensation: three small silhouettes of Mennonite children, an almost ghostly white dog, a village feast with dancers arched like figures from a Botero painting, or simply the emptiness of a dusk car park. Jacques Borgetto's photographic routes through Chile and Argentina, from the salt flats of Atacama to the El Tatio geyser or the Pampa Santa Rosa to the Valdés peninsula, are barely places at all; this is Jacques Borgetto's first book.