We also spent time with Jean-Luc and Yves, two excellent riders from the French Riviera who came with their families. We met a group of Parisians too, one of them nearly died falling from the cliff. He was with my father and they had come down to pick up some mussels and slipped. He was fortunate enough to survive. He was brought to Cascais hospital entirely in blood, and had to make the 2000 km trip back home laying flat in the back of his van. There are so many encounters and incredible stories that made us adore this place when we returned, summer after summer, with our camper van. I will never thank my parents enough for having allowed me to live all this and to have passed on to me this passion for the journey and the discovery.
Hanging out in that airport shop this morning, I thought of all this when I saw behind the cashier a pack of tobacco showing one of those shocking pictures. A child trying to catch the cigarette that his mother was lighting up, and next to it a short text in bold type: “If you smoke, your children are twice as likely to smoke.” I could not help linking it with my first times in Guincho, Morocco and Cape Verde with my parents and how it formed my own addiction to windsurfing and travel.
