"An Airport?" my squeaky voice comes out as a disappointment.

Quinn casts me a quick look and picks up a six-pack of beer before getting out of the car. I follow his action, pick my frozen yoghurt, which he bought begrudgingly and get out.

I look around the deserted area with dirt and the fence that separates the airport and us. Can't deny we have a great view of the runway.  But I can't picture Quinn enjoying plane spotting.

He sits on the hood of the car and I do the same.

"What is so great about this?" I ask.

"I just love seeing a big powerful machine float in...