Around about dusk on Friday at Chaos Communication Camp, Oliver and I were starting to flag. It had been raining, we’d just finished dinner, and we were feeling a little at loose ends. Suddenly, as if from nowhere, a gaggle of quadcopter pilots emerged, set their crafts of the ground around the festooned airplane we were looking around, and started to fly. It was, in an entirely geeky way, a magical moment, and it gave us the second wind we needed to stay at camp into its transformation as a ethereal playground of sound and light.
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