BACK ON TERRA COTTA

Once we had returned to the quay and the boat was moored, Wilson jumped up and ran down the gangway.

'Ahhh…' he sighed, 'safely back once more on terra cotta!'

With this, he crouched down on the quay for a moment.

'What's up? I asked him, 'Seen some ants?' 

'Excuse me, I am kissing the ground.' he replied.

'Why?' I asked, and he told me, 'Well, I saw a Pope do it once on tv – and just because I'm a Pastafarian, not a Roman Catholic, I didn't see why that should stop me giving it a try!'

As we walked away from the harbour together, he remarked, 'Although actually there were one or two lightly-salted ants there, and it seemed rude not to… well, you know – eat them.'