A month in Santa Cruz


A vegades, el que portes temps buscand, i ho veus com un futur llunya gairebe impossible, de sobte es materialtza devant teu. De sobte, vas per la carretera i un cartell diu, benvingut a Santa Cruz, i al cap de una estona estic devant de la Queralt.

Com diria, Santa Cruz es un lloc especial. He anat sentint tantes coses pel cami, que tenia unes ganes d'arribar potser fins i tot exagerades. Pero supera qualsevols expectatives. Esta a la costa, amb un campus precios amagat dins el bosc, ple de camins de bici que m'he recorregut mentre els altres tenien classe, platges per passar-s'hi el dia (si fa sol) i festes americanes, que son capaces de fer-te creure les pel.licules.

Ha estat un petit trocet de casa. Una mena de santuari, on el petit nucli catala, de vbells amics, contraresta contra tot l'ambient america. Per primere vegada, despres de 8 mesos vivint a Canada, m'he enrecordat que es el que diem casa, que per molt que viatgis tot el que deixes enrere, es massa important, doncs per aixo, per deixar-ho enrere. Que casa te la seva propia magia, i per molt que es converteixi en alguna cosa avorrida, on tto ja s'ha descobert (i es aleshores quan t'entren ganes de viatjar) te encara alguna cosa especial. Que mai es perd i sempre viatja amb tu. I que s'ha d'intentar mai oblidar.

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