As we stroll down South along the coast of Spain and then Portugal, we end up stopping at various anchorages or marinas. Each one has a particular flavor. Some are nice and neat (and cheap. I known, that's a bit disappointing but even Sailors need to think about these details !) like Povoa de Varzim. Some are not very exciting (and sometimes on the expensive side) like Figueira da Foz. The other day we ended up in a post-industrial area moored between a little village, an air base and a bunch of smoky factories (Sao Jacinto). The place was nice and quiet and we spent an excellent night. In the background we would have every so often a horn or bugle or whatever military people call it telling us what military people were supposed to do at that very moment: get up, go to bed, go for dinner etc... You get the point even if you've never set foot on a military camp.
In the early light of the morning, I heard the sweet noise of a small engine being started and I thought that on this glorious day, the PAF (Portuguese Air Force, I guess) was getting ready to perform a routine or a practice flight. May be even teaching some young and enthusiast new recruit the basics of taking a plane from the ground and bringing it back down in one piece. The noise went on for quite a while and I wasn't seeing any plane emerging from behind the bushes on the side of the runway. I thought that may be this was actually a young mechanic being taught how to run an engine with all its due smoothness ( and I was ready to go ask the guy for advice because we do have a bit of a trouble with the outboard here). When suddenly popping from behind the said bushes came the source of the noise that had been so intriguing me.
I must say that I have the utmost respect for a country so peaceful that they protect their airspace with squadron of lawnmowers.
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