This set was taken on Penthièvres beach, on the Quiberon peninsula in the Morbihan. It has a special place in my heart — not just the sea itself, but the smell of the sea air and the feel of it on my face. It’s somewhere I go to escape a bit, especially when family visits get chaotic.

In some ways it’s strange going to the beach to “relax,” since that’s usually something I hate. Towels down, rocks weighing down each corner, watching the kids swim so nobody drowns (or you’ll get an earful), other people’s children screaming somewhere nearby, sand in every crevice by the time you’re back in the car with what feels like half the beach in tow.

But this was different. Boots stayed on. No screaming children. Just the wind, the sun, and being an observer rather than a participant, with nobody to make conversation with. Getting the beach down on film. Proper, solitary bliss.

So, camera and film for the day. The film was the usual Ilford HP5 I was shooting at the time. The camera was a Ukrainian-made rangefinder, the FED 5, from the Soviet era. You load it by unscrewing the base plate, much like a Leica, and the “ghost image” focusing is spot on and genuinely satisfying to use. I still love the smell of the leather case. As with a lot of my film photography, the experience of shooting it matters as much to me as the pictures that come out the other end.

Penthièvres ended up being more than just somewhere to point a camera. It’s become one of the places I go back to in my head when I need to, and these shots are what’s left of that particular afternoon.