For a few years, Almería became a refuge, just seven hours by Talgo train from Atocha. We took road trips around Cabo de Gata, hopping from cove to cove. J drove, I picked the music and captured moments on film.

He taught me to dive without fear at Cala de las Sirenas; we smoked as the sun set and cooked noodles on the beach. In the south, I learned to shed my clothes in nature and savor reading under an umbrella. Mornings after breaking camp, we hunted down the best toast with olive oil and tomato.

It’s been years, but that desert remains familiar. The warmth from those days still seeps through these photos.