Journal of the nineteenth day on board

21st May, 1999

Mussels, mussels and more mussels. We are at Taranto, a city surrounded by mussels, a certified "Musselopolis". The fishermen, or maybe its better to call them breeders, go back and forth in boats leaving shiny black trails. The juicy molluscs are attached in lines and piled up on small sloops.
For 2 days these very kind gentlemen have been offering us mussels and asking us questions. We have tasted mussels with garlic, mussels with spaghetti, mussels with seafood, mussel soup, I've had enough!
Yet, a guest (whose name will remain secret), making the thousandth offer of mussels and the thousandth question about the expedition, made us double up with laughter by asking us "But why don't you cook mussels?"
Not a very kind joke but it certainly relieved the tension brought on by a persistent scirocco wind which is still keeping us in port.