July-August barefoot in the sand, the smell of wax and sunscreen, the fingertips fried by salt water. Olatua carries the naivety of an adolescence punctuated by the impatience of the next summer. That of the prisoners of this wonderful place where others come on vacation without ever staying there. Olatua is a concentration of suspended memories. The memories of a brief history, with no future but unforgettable. Those of a wave of overwhelming euphoria that retreats in September, as if nothing had ever existed. It sticks to the skin, its trail persists. However, it is necessary to turn the page. If the candor fades with the passing of the past, Olatua does not allow to forget, to be reminded by the wave.
