I did it! We did it! Clodia, all those who gave something to this journey, passion and water, and me. We arrived in Byzantium, Constantinople, Istanbul.

It’s been more than two years from the very beginning, from the first flash of the idea, the dream with open eyes, watching with respect and apprehension every small creek in front of us. A thousand travels by train, bicycle and on foot. The sleepless nights working with Pati de Ross, a great friend. The worn out shoes. The thousand of “not” from people who could not or would not help, the disappointments, the hugs, the angels who helped me immediately and unconditionally, the selflessness and love, generosity, and my many mistakes. Everything was great and part of a real project.

I remember the start, with Jacopo and Massimo Di Nonno, who photographed, and Nicola Pittarello who was filming in the cold wind of the Thames. The freezing nights, well below zero, in England, the 20-day wind at 40 knots, straight from the Arctic, the horizontal rain, the fire of the Shipwright’s Arms pub to dry my wet clothes, the disease, the four months between hospital and bed, the Danube frozen.

The second stop was not planned but neither the first was, to tell the truth.

And then the 346 locks, the 18 aqueducts, rowing or sailing suspended 30 meters in height, the 8 tunnels, 2000 and more bridges and 5401 km of joy, suffering, and a lot of wind and water, underneath, beyond and sometimes inside Clodia. And sailing and rowing so much. Never give up. All the way till the end. But where is the end? (more…)

In every journey, like in every life, there’s a place where you stay longer than expected. Pleasant or not.

Sozopol held me for 20 days. It was up to me, I would have stayed even more: I’ve been happy there. In Sozopol there’s some magic, on that rocky cape.

Beside all the nice and interesting encounters during the festival, I’ve faced a series of fast but strong meteorological depression that created dangerous waves for Clodia, that’s not built for that kind of sea. The pauses between disturbances were not long enough to calm the sea, so I couldn’t set off.

In the meantime, time was passing by. In Istanbul many people were waiting for me and I, who manage to make it to the Black Sea by the end of July, felt bad not to have taken the chance to sail in the best two months for navigation. However, I was kindly asked to wait until september to get a better media coverage, so, being my project also about communication, I couldn’t refuse.

Waiting, the art of waiting: I’ve become a very good artist. And I always try to get better at it. (more…)