Octopus off the leash

There are other ways of getting to Marsaxlokk but only a bus is practical for us. Fortunately our backs are good, our knees holding up and shoulders almost capable of holding on. But today we had seats again. I've never heard a bus make such noises or contortions. Entering the town there was a brace of well modified Land Rovers riding proudly on yellow springs and red panhard rods.

It is a colourful place, Marsaxlokk. It is well up on my must visit list. Today, however was a bit special. Alighting from the bus I was told that I could clear off as long as I was back by 1330. I was denied the bus pass on the basis that if I failed to meet the management target I may have just been able to get back unaided. Sans bus pass I was still management dependent.

Wandering along the harbour was a bit like wandering along any harbourside in these warm temperate places. The boats are colourful and the fishermen equally so.

Standing alongside one I lifted a bight in the net he was overhauling before it snagged and his smile included all the thanks you could ever need. His (much) older friend with a fishing rod observed and asked a few questions to which my replies met a favourable response.

He was catching "Saigu(?)" "What?", I asked. "Silver Bream" he said. He caught one whilst I was stood there and placed it in a box with quite a few of its relatives.  "Looks like a Whiting," I said. "If it was a Whiting it wouldn't cost as much in the restaurants as a Silver Bream" he said with a grin as wide as the harbour. I understood, completely.

It transpires that along this part of the coast the fish farms specialise in Whiting but whenever there's a gale lots of them escape, Initially they hang about in the vicinity of the fish farm but a week or two later the harbour fills up with them. They had a poor week a couple of weeks ago.

As I moved to go he opened a sack and offered me an octopus. He even told me how his wife cooked it, how his son cooked it and how his mum used to cook it. Alas, I had no bag, no paper, no nothing to carry it in so I declined his offer with a deal of sadness but I really couldn't think of how to carry it. A year ago there would have been carrier bags blowing about all over the place but putting a surcharge on them has seen them all but disappear.

A little further along I wandered into a boatyard and was talking to a chap about a particular boat that looked as though she'd been built in NE Scotland when a man in epaulettes arrived on scene to explain that it was unsafe for me to be here and that I should go.

So I went. I hope to go again, too!

Marsaxlokk. Could have been taken last year. Hope it could be taken next.