He’s certainly a character. A tired, sunburnt Kepa Acero appears on screen, typo-littered translations filling the lower third as he pours his heart into his handheld camera. Acero is 10 hours away from the wave he’s traveled through Africa to surf, but the distance does little to deter his spirit. So he mindsurfs sand dunes and introspects with his own brand of broken poetry:
I am here in the desert. This is my home. And there is [sic] no waves.
I want to surf a spot that I surfed years back, and since then…
I fold [sic] in love with that wave.
“There is a ten hours drive to get there, but I’m gonna do it anyway.
I don’t mind to do it for a surf.
I can imagine myself on that green wave.
“You have to try to do the real thing in life.
What you really love to do.
It could be six feet solid there!
Imagine it, think it.
And do it. There we go.
“Take it easy, no problem. That all.
Let’s enjoy life and make beautiful thing in life, what we really love.
Surfing, that’s what I love.”