This is how we spend our time together: we bring our ghosts and demons to life by taking photographs, drawing whimsical creatures, and cooking pancakes that resemble frightening monsters before devouring them with sugar or Nutella. This is how we play, how we pretend that the vast emptiness separating us for most of the year—2,500 kilometres of land and water, the sheer stretch of Europe—doesn’t matter. Because most days aren’t every day, are they?

Sometimes, we do manage to spend time together, and when we do, the first thing on our agenda is to get our caravan ready and head to the beach for a few days. Did you know that our old caravan once belonged to my father? I spent many holidays travelling in it when I was younger. To be honest, I never really liked it because my father rarely let us stay in one place for more than a few hours. He was determined to show us the whole of Europe in a week, so we were always on the move. It was exhausting, and I hated not being able to explore our surroundings. Deep down, I always wanted to change that. Only after becoming a parent myself did I consider giving the old caravan a second chance—a chance to stay in one place for as long as possible.

Our chosen spot is a magical beach at the westernmost tip of Europe, far from the northern reaches where you now live with your mother. The beach is often windy, and sometimes it gets rather wild. Blasts of sand whipped up by the wind leave red rashes on our skin. But when it calms, there’s no place on Earth quite like it. That’s why you rarely see tourists here, aside from a few kite surfers seeking an adrenaline rush. Like them, we’ve chosen this spot to park our little caravan, probably no more than four square metres, squeezed in with beds, a kitchen, a toilet, and a sitting area. There’s only enough water for a few days if we’re careful with dishes, and only one person can stand up at a time. Yet the lack of space doesn’t bother us. After long stretches of being unable to touch each other’s skin or smell each other’s breath as we sleep, this is how we make up for lost time and for the distance imposed upon us.

In this tiny capsule, surrounded by sand, wind, and saltwater, we journey to countless imaginary worlds. We play games, transform into sea creatures, and feed them pancakes. Here, we can truly be ourselves—real, lovable monsters.

Words and photographs © Pedro Guimarães.