Janvia's Windmill

The country of Janvia has never been colonized by a foreign power. This is mainly because, it is such a ghastly, inhospitable place that nobody ever wanted it.
That's not to say that it is an ugly country. It has an abundance of rivers, lakes and gently rolling hills.
If you saw a post-card of the place, you might truthfully say that it looked quite pretty. The problem is, that by a freak of geology, Janvia is subject to a constant east-west wind that never subsides below gale force. This makes life fairly restrictive, in that the eating of soup or cotton candy in the open air is nigh on impossible.

If you were to take out the large encyclopedia that your aunt gave you for your birthday a few years ago, and looked up the description on Janvia. It would read something like this:
JANVIA: Unalined independant democracy
            Pop: 1.6 Million
            Resources: Arable farming
            Exports: Potatoes, turnips, beetroot, kites.
If you looked in the super giant encyclopedia at the library, you could also learn that Janvia had the lowest number of hair dryers per head of population, and the highest expenditure per head of population on roof tiles.

The Janvians themselves are quite fond of their homeland. Much in the same way that a shepherd may be fond of an old faithful dog that's gone lame just before he shoots it.
They write songs and poems about the rivers, and hills, and the trees that grow at 45 degrees, and about how great it will be when the wind dies down a bit.

It is a relatively young country. The land has always been there of course, but the border lines were not drawn onto a map until the last century.
A flag had been knitted by the wife of Janvia's first president at the time. It was a blue rectangle, with a picture of a Bogo bird in the center. An animal not found in any other land.
An interesting thing to note about the Bogo bird, is that it has very powerful legs. This is because, although it can fly vast distances, at high speed from east to west, the wind is so strong that it normally has to walk back home.

When it was realized that the country's 100th birthday was approaching, the politicians wanted to do something to mark the occasion.
They wanted to do something big. Something impressive. Something that would show the world that Janvia was at the cutting edge. Something to bring the tourists in.
It had to be a monumental structure of some sort. Obviously it could not be a sky-scraper or a bridge. It had to be something else.
A competition was held in the newspapers to find a suitably impressive, monumental, tourist inducing thing to build.
The winning entry was a suggestion to build the world's biggest windmill. This would have two distinct benefits. Firstly it would provide free electricity to the people of Janvia, and secondly it would give tourists something to look at. They would be able to say to each other on their return home "OK honey, I know that we spent our vacation in a ghastly, unpleasant, inhospitable, draughty dump, but hey! Wasn't that some windmill"

Due to its lack of oil wells, gold mines, off shore banking etc. Janvia didn't have the capital available to build the windmill from its own resources, and had to go to the bank for a loan. The money would be paid back by keeping the electricity bills at the same level as before. The accountants figured that after 23 years, the people of Janvia would be in receipt of free electricity. Pretty cool eh!
Once the money was in place, the Janvians set to work building what would become the world's biggest windmill.

Such a big building needed to be of exceptional strength to withstand the constant winds, and so the windmill was built using ton after ton of reinforced concrete, which arrived by the truck load in a fetching shade of pill box gray.
By the time it was finished, it was impressively strong. It was also exceptionally high, and could be seen from a distance of more than 20 miles. The Janvians, after all their labour had created something of which they could be justifiably proud.

At the opening ceremony, the chocks were knocked away from the massive sails, and the windmill churned into life. The sails rotating faster and faster as the wind caught them.Electricity flowed, and the people partied long into the night in celebration.

After a while, everyone got used to the windmill always being in the background. It became part of the scenery. It also gave a boost to the tourist industry. The number of visitors rising from a lamentable 8 per year to an impressive 27. The old brochure that the tourist office used to send out had just said: COME TO BEAUTIFUL WIND SWEPT JANVIA. But now it said: COME TO BEAUTIFUL WIND SWEPT JANVIA AND GAZE IN WONDER AT OUR WINDMILL.
After a while, Mrs. Stuckheimer, who ran the guest house opposite was able to trade in her old car in for a slightly newer one.

The problems began 22 years and 6 months after the windmill had first started to operate. After so much time, the bearings had worn, and the windmill had started to issue a low screeching sound. In the weeks that followed, the noise became louder and louder, until people were unable to sleep for it. What was worse, was that the few visitors that came normally left within the first hour.
It was decided that the windmill would have to be closed down while repairs were made.
Unfortunately, when the windmill had been built, although much thought had been given to the structure of the building, very little thought had been given to the machinery that was installed inside. It was discovered that the windmill did not only lack an integrated braking system, but it lacked a braking system of any kind at all.
The country's finest engineers stood around and scratched their heads, trying to think of a way to stop the sails turning, while all the time the noise from the thing was getting worse and worse.
They tried putting sticks in between the sails, but they were snatched from their hands and tossed away by the force of the machine. They then tried bigger sticks, then gate posts, and finally telegraph poles, but nothing worked. The only thing that they could suggest was to demolish the entire thing with explosives.
This would mean the end of the free electricity that the people were expecting in a few months time, but at least the noise would stop and the tourists might stay. The government reluctantly agreed to this solution. At least with the blowing up of such a large building, they could expect people from all over the world to come and see it happen.

There was only one pyrotechnical technician in Janvia. His name was Joe Gladys. He normally drove a tractor on a farm, and just dabbled with explosives at the week-end. (Firework displays are not very popular in a place where after you have sent a rocket into the sky it explodes 10 miles down wind)
As there was only one man who knew anything about explosives, he got the job to demolish the windmill.
Wire and igniters and detonators were sourced, and books were consulted on the amount of explosive to use. After a week, Joe had primed the windmill for demolition.
There was to be a further one week delay, while television cameras were set up, politicians rehearsed their speeches, and the final few tourists arrived to witness the spectacle. During this time, the politicians had worried that if the windmill was not destroyed at the first attempt, the country would be made to look foolish, and had ordered that an extra 10% of plastic explosive be added. Joe Gladys also wanted his biggest job to date to be a success and added another 10% himself, just to be on the safe side.

On the appointed day, a large crowd gathered outside of Mrs. Stuckheimer's guest house to witness the big moment. Thus it was that at 2 p.m. on a glorious Saturday afternoon, marred only by a howling gale and a screeching windmill, the igniter button was pressed.
Had Joe not neglected to put a decimal point in his calculations on the amount of explosive to use, and packed just 2 Tons of explosive into the building rather than the 24 tons that actually got used, the resulting explosion would not have been as spectacular as that witnessed on that fateful Saturday afternoon. The blast that took place not only demolished the windmill. It also broke every window for a radius of 5 miles, and could be heard 160 miles away. Mrs. Stuckheimer was so upset, that she retired to her toilet at the bottom of the garden, and when she pulled the chain, the ceiling fell in on top of her.

Janvia is still a beautiful country. Although there's not much to see apart from a ruined windmill. Also, the lights don't work as there is no electricity, and ordering a drink or a meal is difficult as every-one is deaf. But if you are looking for somewhere to fly your kite, then Janvia's the place for you.