The soft ache beneath this Spanish town's sun-drenched hedonism

Sitges is different. It's not your typical Spanish coastal town; it's a place that feels like a promise. A place of hedonism, not just loud and flashy, but quiet, as an attitude, as a way of life.

Hedonism: the pursuit of pleasure, sensuality, freedom. Perhaps that's precisely what Sitges is all about, a town that doesn't condemn pleasure but celebrates it. A myth, a refuge, a queer microcosm where different rules apply. A life without shame, without fear, without the constant need to conform.

This town by the sea is located about 35 kilometers from Barcelona. The narrow streets of the old city, through which a salty, warm air blows, voices intertwine with music. And in summer, men are everywhere. Since the 1960s, Sitges has attracted them like a magnet that collects desires. Today, it is considered one of Europe's most famous gay destinations.

But it's not just about vacationing here. It's about bodies, about closeness, about visibility. Nudity is not taboo, but a matter of course. You can show yourself, desire, lose yourself, without the scrutinizing gaze of the norm. This lightness is rare. This freedom is a state that many have long forgotten.

In Sitges, you don't have to conform to belong. No scene, no dress code, no ideal. A silent agreement: everyone is equal. Perhaps that's what makes this place so special. Sitges keeps a promise that many cities only hint at. A place to let go. A place where rules become blurred, and where affection becomes natural. A space where you can be gay without talking about it.

And yet Sitges is also excess: intoxication, bodies, parties, and sex.

Here, people forget who they are and remember it at the same time. From beaches like Platja del Home Mort or Platja del Balmins, to the cruising forest and the vibrant bars at night, everywhere the same story of lust, freedom, and happiness of not having to hide exists.

But for me, Sitges was always romantic. Perhaps naively romantic. Again and again, I tried to see the city as many see it: alcohol, partying, sex, cocks. I would be lying if I said I wasn't part of it. And yet it was never what really interested me. I was drawn to something else: the connections between men that I saw forming. I spoke to many men who told me how they had sex with lots of other men in just a few days. They quickly realized that I was looking for something else.

I often asked myself what exactly I was looking for. I was there four times in one year, and each time it was different and yet the same. Different faces, bodies, and stories. And yet there was the same longing: for closeness, authenticity, and love.

I saw myself in them. We shared the same hunger for belonging, for a place where you can just be. A different kind of closeness developed between us. Not physical, but emotional. A quiet trust between strangers.

My gaze on the men was never sexual. It was romantic, vulnerable, open. In Sitges, I often fell in love not only with people but also with moments, glances, conversations, and a laugh that lingered. This place softened me. It showed me a side of myself that I hardly knew in Berlin. While others lost themselves in the night's excesses, I found myself. And yet, after every trip, a trace of heartbreak remained.

Perhaps because Sitges reminded me of something I was looking for but could never quite grasp.

Bennet Böckstiegel is a Berlin-based photographer who works in documentary, portrait, and editorial photography.