Driven by their desire for light and warmth, British teenagers take a trip to the Balearic Islands. They must absorb the sun and store it in their bodies to take it back to their cloud-covered kingdom.

I had the desire to write a fairy tale based on the extremely transformative moments of adolescence, delving into the euphoric highs and the profound lows, about abandon and escapism altogether through the lens of magic realism.

In recent summers, it’s become a viral practice for European young people to jump off their hotel balconies while on holidays in Spain, and to even record it with their phones to later post the footage online. Witnessing it from a local point of view, throughout the years we’ve seen the national TV and media portray and explore the phenomena with a cold and distant regard; however, I often found myself fantasizing and bonding with the young foreigners, thinking about our common links and mirroring such an aggressive activity to my own latent teenage angst so tied to our generation, the internet, and a deep longing to feel understood and belong. Empathizing with the emotions that go through one’s first unsupervised journey and the surreal feeling of experimenting a radically different weather than the one you’re used to. Being somewhere where you’re allowed to be someone else and, maybe for the first time, yourself.

Here I strived to focus on the mystical dimension that unfolds when British teenagers set out on their annual pilgrimage to Mallorca, chasing not only the sun’s warmth but also the ephemeral freedom of youth. A spiritual awakening happening in plain sight that yet remains an undeciphered mistery for those living on the Spanish island.