John John Florence in Dream World
What kind of smoke and mirrors are required to entice the world’s best surfer? The promise of something fabulous, most certainly. It was Stab’s wish to recreate a dream scene, the sort you might find on the pleasant shore of the French Riviera, about half way between Marseilles and the Italian border, on the kind of short, dazzling beach that sparkles through the warm haze below a large, proud, rose-coloured hotel with deferential palms cooling its flushed facade.
What kind of smoke and mirrors are required to entice the world’s best surfer? The promise of something fabulous, most certainly. It was Stab’s wish to recreate a dream scene, the sort you might find on the pleasant shore of the French Riviera, about half way between Marseilles and the Italian border, on the kind of short, dazzling beach that sparkles through the warm haze below a large, proud, rose-coloured hotel with deferential palms cooling its flushed facade.
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