I know of a place.
In 2015, I traveled to the Paraguaná Peninsula in Falcón, Venezuela, drawn to a landscape very different from those I had photographed elsewhere in the country. Paraguaná is one of Venezuela’s driest regions, where heat, scarce rainfall, salt, and wind constantly shape the environment. The trade winds move across the peninsula for much of the year, shaping the sand, the vegetation, and the very feeling of the place.
During the journey, I became interested in the relationship between people, architecture, and this demanding landscape. The salt flats, roads, dunes, xerophytic vegetation, and open horizon created an almost unreal atmosphere, where the landscape seemed to be constantly moving.
One of the places that captured my attention most was the abandoned Hotel Médano Caribe. Conceived as a major tourism project decades earlier, it had been reduced to a vast structure exposed to wind, salt, and time. For me, photographing it was also a way of photographing an idea of the future that never became reality.
These images grew from that contrast: a territory filled with light, wind, and life alongside abandoned structures that seem to belong to another time. Rather than simply documenting a place, I wanted to capture its atmosphere and the traces left by time. Paraguaná allowed me to find beauty in what is harsh, empty, and slowly disappearing.
