It was like a cart wheel, but it had a big spade-shaped vane on the end of each spoke. The wheel was lying on its side in the water, with its axle sticking upwards. She showed us the little stream, and then she took us under the house, where the stream was running, and we could see water pouring onto a wheel. The mill was grinding corn into flour, and it was powered by a very small stream, probably running down from the lake which we had seen. The power supply in a horizontal mill depends upon a crude paddle-wheel Inside, the little building was filled with the sound of another pair of stones spinning around at a surprisingly high speed. Two huge millstones stood either side of the doorway, one cracked and the other clearly worn down by years of use. When we came round the front of the building it was pretty clear what it was. So, we came round a corner, and we found ourselves facing a little, unremarkable looking building, which was nevertheless emitting a strange splashing, rumbling noise. The building was emitting a rumbling noise (Watermill in Flores, Azores) ![]() Steve decided some dogs were okay after all. She was tired out after all her running around. He was holding onto the tip of her lead and making gruff, unnecessary commands at her. There are lots of fierce guard dogs in the Azores, and he carried a knife so that he could slit their throats if they attacked him.īut now we were all coming home and Steve had got used to Poppy. Steve, our friend, was the one who had recommended the walk to us, and he had walked bouncily along beside us keeping a wary eye on Poppy, who snuffled around in the leaves and refused to come when she was called. Water going to waste, very prettily, in Flores (Azores) Living on a boat, we are used to having to be very sparing with water. “Yes, it makes you want to rush up and turn it off,” Mummy agreed. “Such a lot of water going to waste,” I said. We had started that morning, leaving Mollymawk anchored in the bay behind us, and we had now been walking, at a leisurely pace, for most of the day – along a road, up a track, along a footpath, and past a lake which had eleven waterfalls pouring endlessly into it. It was early afternoon and we were in Flores, just nearing the end of one of the scenic walks for which the Azores are famous. ( with a few additional remarks by the editor-in-chief) Mollymawk anchored with Steve's boat, Cheng-Feng, in Flores ![]() Don Quixote's windmills in Consuegra, Spain Scrapbook Wind and Water Power – Then and Now by Roxanne Schinas, published in January 2011
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