We have all dreamed of taking a trip to a very distant and exotic place. But not as a summer luxury with a bracelet on the wrist that gave us access to everything. Rather we have imagined it as a vital getaway. Go to a distant place where no one recognizes you and look for a place where you do not have to explain yourself. At first it sounds very good, however not everyone is (we are) so brave. But those who are, end up living enriching experiences that help them mature as people and not to post photos on Instagram. Why did Marta Terrasa, author of this “Winter In July” and collaborator in various media –among them this one–, starring in a trip of these characteristics? Well, out of love for a person and because, once she saw that the opportunity to travel to Australia was real, she was not willing to spend the rest of her days wondering why she did not dare to take the plunge.
“Winter In July”, that works by combining parts of a travel diary, a journalistic essay and a certain emotional exposure of such an intense moment, offers us not only the expected carousel of adventures in distant lands, but also the before and after of that van trip with the table of surf prepared for when the occasion allowed to get into the sea. It is a book in which Terrasa asks himself questions that will end up finding his answer.
In the prelude to catching that plane that would take her to the other end of the world, a key moment; the stairs of the Fira de Montjuic in a Sonar and the latent doubts: “What am I doing here when I could be surrounded by exotic animals?”. The existing fauna in Australia is an incentive, although not the main one, although it serves to recall anecdotes, scares and a few laughs. Laughter that is combined and even intertwined with the occasional cry. Because, despite the excitement of such a company, Marta Terrasa explains both the good and the bad. Australia is still an apparently young country that is still in the process of accepting its identity, and for those who arrive there the goal is to adapt. To their customs, to a language that sometimes bears little resemblance to English, to a beautiful and bucolic landscape that evokes emptiness and loneliness.
Terrasa’s voice in this book is broad, direct and sincere, a breaking latest news of two years of wild experiences avoiding giant waves and surviving as only those who make a smile and optimism their modus vivendi can.
