Fulfilling a dream of 30 years, Malcolm Goodman is readying a small hotel he bought in the north of England as his own personal kite museum. The structure is in Teesdale, near Durharm, in a scenic area of hills, rock fences, and sheep that draws lots of tourism in warm weather. The largest waterfall in England, a great attraction, is nearby. Goodman’s museum, to open next spring after he and wife Jeannette execute extensive renovations, will show the cream of his collection of 500 kites, more than half of them from Asia.

Conrad Shawcross has been described as a dealer in memorabilia from a British organization called the IBLS. The acronymn stands for Investigative Bureau Into the Location of the Soul.

Being placed on Thomas Jeckel’s Websites is sort of like praying for rain and receiving a downpour that washes out the valley. Delightful at first, his postings start to overload your screen, or at least your nervous system. Yet the thought of erasure never occurs. Amid the oddities and incoherencies, there are wonderful postings———— weekly, daily, hourly.

What is going on? When Rick Miller, of Silver City, New Mexico, flies a light-colored, 15-inch Chinese swallow kite at twilight he bought from master Chinese builder Chen Zhao Ji, he draws literally two dozen cliff swallows. They fly around the kite twittering and apparently feeding on insects. They do not attack the kite. The noise and motion of the live birds attract strollers who stand and watch. When Rick takes the kite down, the birds disperse. Now the puzzle. Rick bought another type of swallow kite from Mr. Chen, this one smaller and with black wings.

When Richard Dermer’s kite collection became too large to fit on the walls of his restaurant in Stillwater, Oklahoma, he solved the problem by buying the building next door and expanding. Since the structure he moved into had been a movie theater, his space doubled. Happy happy collector, happy kite collection. The large, affable, bearded Dermer will concede the story is a little more complex than that but what’s objective truth when a kite passion is involved?

“Near perfection,” was the verdict of one foreign participant in last fall’s Taipei County International Kite Festival, held on a beach at the northern tip of Taiwan Island.

It’s an authentic labor of love, one man’s tribute to the kites he has admired since childhood. In an unlikely part of Taiwan, steep mountains 25 miles from the capital Taipei, Weng Hsiang Lai has created his own small, intensely personal kite museum, open to the public year around.

Fano’s weather was not good, one nice day out of five we had, but somehow this doesn’t matter here in Denmark. On Friday, the wind was vicious. I creased our (fortunatelyly rental) car’s door when it was ripped from my hand as it opened. Amassing sufficient further damage to get value from the insurance excess then became a challenge. Eventually a few line burns and ramming it with a buggy did the trick. We had only one kite flying that day—–a quilt (now called our “Gucci”).

Architect, city planner, computer programmer Marten Bondestam has an unusual vision. He wants to establish a really active Nordic kite federation. What makes his concept surprising is its scope—the association numbers nine nations. Nine? Yes, that’s the number. All are independent or semi-independent, all have their own flags. In addition to the obvious Denmark, Sweden, Norway and Finland, included are the Faroe Islands, Aland (a big island between Finland and Sweden), Iceland, Greenland, and Sameland (the former Lappland).

The most renowned Vietnamese kitemaker, based among other reasons on the number of overseas festivals he has attended (nine in France alone), is Nguyen Van Be (pronounced N’whin Van Bay). Mr. Be, as his is widely known, lives in the ancient capital of Hue, halfway between Hanoi on the north and Saigon on the south. Most Westerners remember Hue from the Tet offensive in early l968 when 10,000 were killed, including 500 U.S. Marines.