Pixel Ramón Cordero has heard about a beach at the end of a long stretch of cliffs where the fishermen light a barbecue every evening and grill the thickest steaks on the coast. There is no road to get there, and the boat left this morning. But the wind is blowing just right, and a little paragliding school on the headland has one bright orange wing left to rent. The fishermen even have a name for the flight along the cliffs: the Sea Stack Soar.
He runs off the cliff edge and the canopy fills with sea breeze. Below him, tall sandstone stacks rise out of the water, cable cars hum between their pylons and lighthouses watch over the bay. Somebody up the coast has been sending steaks along the route, still sizzling, and it would be rude not to catch them. Ride the wind, mind the rocks and see how far along the coast he can fly before the barbecue starts.
