Inês Nunes

I have witnessed the same spectacle my entire life. Every summer, a human tide arrives in the Algarve and reorganises the territory, rhythms, and hierarchies. While the newcomers enjoy themselves, the locals work. So close and yet so far from the sea, we often find ourselves confined to the shopping centre, refuge, prison, and main stage of my summers. A space that promised modernity and a future, but which today stands as the melancholic vestige of an idea of progress that never came to fruition.