In 1431, in early summer, the Venetian merchant captain, Pietro Querini, set sail from Iraklion (Crete) to Bruges (Flanders) with 3 loaded ships and 68 crewmembers. The fleet sailed into a terrible storm off France and was blown northwest of Ireland and Scotland. Many men had succumbed to starvation and fatigue when, just after the new year, in January 1432, the survivors stranded on an island near Røst, in Lofoten. They were found by local fishermen, after nearly a month, and eventually spent more than three months together with the Røst inhabitants in culo mundi as Querini aptly put it. In the "ass of the world"...
Venetian is such a colorful language. Explicit at times. Obscure too, when needed. Paradoxical and contradictory, yet profound.

"Cori camina! Bacalà!"
Which is essentially untranslatable and oxymoronic, and vaguely related to Aldus Manutius' famous motto "festina lente", as well as eponymously onomatopoeic vis à vis the celebration. Bacalà is often interjected as a jovial monicker when referring to a friend. As such, it is used in a manner similar to calling someone "silly" or "fool", or "dummy" in a friendly, non-confrontational, jocking kind of way.
I think I will leave it at that, except to say that if you think I am making this up, you should ask a Venetian to tell you what it means...
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