MALTA

The Morning

Malta is windy.

We didn’t know though a later trip on an open top hop on, hop off bus eloquently demonstrated this.

A week off in the middle of March, after ruthlessly – in a similar fashion to the Tories – discarding various bits of Europe, led to a week in Malta. A stupidly early Gatwick flight – not ideal from our West London home – meant we landed in Malta one early Friday afternoon. We were to stay in Valletta, the capital, for the entire week using it as a base. Malta is small island chain and the local buses and ferries proved effective and cheap.

History Bit

The Maltese Islands had a golden Neolithic period – more of them later – and enjoyed and subsequently abandoned by the Phoenicians, Carthaginians, Romans and Byzantines.

In 60 AD St Paul was shipwrecked on Malta while on his way to Rome. Careless. He brought Christianity which is still in evidence.

The Arabs then conquered the islands in 870 AD influencing the native language though English is an equal partner. Until 1530 Malta was an extension of Sicily and hence, whoever ruled Sicily ruled the Maltese Islands. This motley bunch included the Normans, Aragonese and other assorted conquerors before Charles V bequeathed Malta to the Sovereign Military Order of St John of Jerusalem. What a nice chap. They ruled Malta until 1798 ushering in a golden age and metamorphosing Malta into in a rather big cheese of 17th and 18 century Europe. The Knights went onto make wads of cash through trade commissioning artists such as Caravaggio and Mattia Preti to embellish Maltese churches, palaces and auberges.

In 1798 Napoleon Bonaparte kicked out the Knights on his way to Egypt. The English subsequently kicked out the French around 1800 and ruled Malta until 1964. Apparently the Maltese actually requested the English to distribute the French elsewhere – usually the French have been asked to redistribute the English.

British rule lasted until 1964 when Malta became independent though the Maltese did adopt the British system of public administration, education and legislation.

The Afternoon

The X4 bus from outside the airport, for a very reasonable €2, takes you into Valletta and deposits one and all at the central bus station. Somewhere you’ll, if you haven’t hired a car or have a handy helicopter, become very familiar with. We did.

We, Sus, found our Airbnb within 15 minutes. We couldn’t get in. In a cognitive leap, worthy of our ancient ancestors, I recalled an email explaining that the electronic lock would be effective from 3pm. It was a little after 2pm. Whoops. Less than a minute away was a local cafe in which we enjoyed excellent bruschetta and fresh orange juice.

Back to our Airbnb a tad after 3pm followed by an effortless entrance. ‘Tide by Savynomad – just got that – Harbour Residences’ proved to be a delightful base and Martin a delightful host. It’s in the basement of a 500 year old building but has natural light from the door and a very contemporary interior. There’s a microwave, washing machine and even Netflix for that feel good holiday romcom.

Once suitably freshened up we wandered. Nowhere in particular though quickly discovered Valletta is a rather attractive and hilly city. If walking up and down slopes is really not your cup of sea water, or you’re perhaps not able, Valletta may not be that special short break you were looking for.

The Beer Bit

For those who read these blogs or tonysbeersnobblog.wordpress.com you’ll know my appreciation of a craft beer. Or two. Like any self respecting beer aficionado I’d already researched the best spots to try for a cheeky craft or 2. And that’s how we found ourselves at 67 Kapitali (www.67kapitali.com).

They had about 10 taps mainly pouring the wonderfully posh sounding Lord Chambray beers interspersed with an occasional interloper from the UK. Magic Rock when we were there. A fridge housed further local beers (Huskie) and a small selection from outside of Malta.

Over our 4 visits I managed to sample most with all proving most palatable. A favourite was the 67 IPA which Chambray brewed especially for the bar.

One evening we ate there – I ordered a platter Sus couldn’t eat and she ordered a vegan platter I could but didn’t. They were huge. These could easily be shared between 2 people. We both had take outs. And watched a film.

The Trek

The next morning, after buying several days of breakfast supplies from the exotic Holland and Barrett we decided on a yomp from Valletta to Sliema – via several townships including Msida, Ta’ Xbiex and Gzira – forming a continuous urbanisation around the bay. Msida, Ta’ Xbiex and Gzira all amiably blended into one.

The roughly 5 mile trek is not a recognised walk – though some blogs do provide vague directions – and without Sus and Apple maps we may well still be walking.

Typically, when wandering aimlessly – or vaguely misplaced – one discovers many a treasure. We happened upon Hastings Gardens plonked on both St John’s and St Michael’s Bastions (painful) with wonderful views across the harbour. Renovated only a few years ago and, with striking groto-esque art work, merits a gander. It wasn’t busy and a worthy opponent to the Upper and Lower Barrakka Gardens. I’m not sure I didn’t actually prefer it to them.

Valletta’s architecture, it’s streets and piazzas range from mid-16th century Baroque to Modernism with a unique collection of churches, palaces and museums. It all adds up to a striking capital city.

For contrast we trudged through what appeared to be Valletta’s government administrative centre – not horrible though certainly not a FOMO moment. Apple maps amused itself by directing us down a steep and busy winding main road – with pavements disappearing only to reappear on the opposite side – with a couple of similarly bemused travelers making their way up. Oh, and one mad jogger running up.

Thankfully, this did drop us into the harbour inducing a certain amount of boat envy. I don’t even have a great desire to own a boat. Observing the posh boats, on the other side of the road running alongside the harbour, were some beautiful though often dilapidated buildings. Incongruously, there was a large modern block – mercifully incorporating one of the older buildings – adorned with the KPMG logo.

Trotted through a slightly scruffier area – Valletta is perhaps the cleanest European capital either have visited – with the bay still on one side. Only when we went inland a little later did our friendly watery friend vanish from view.

Sus is the most generous and best natured person I’ve ever met. Until she gets hungry. She decided Ayu, a modern looking restaurant was for her. And me. It was the best meal either ate our whole week in Malta (https://ayu.mt/restaurant-menu/).

After leaving Ayu we ventured inland into Sliema proper before coming back down to the waterfront where we gracefully danced on the extensive rocks and rock pools presumably exposed by an outgoing tide. Sliema is the most densely populated town on the island – though still attractive – making it a centre for shopping and cafes with lively bars and nightlife. We liked Sliema and I can understand why many tourists choose it as their island base. There’s a conveniently large Lidl for those self catering though I’ve a sneaking suspicion that for many it’s the nightlife and not a fresh food counter that appeal.

The nightlife not being our cup of Cisk we caught a bus back to Valletta – number 13 taking 15 to 20 minutes.

Mdina, Wind and Loud Noises

The following morning, post a Holland and Barrett inspired breakfast, we bussed to the village of Rabat located a few minutes walk from Mdina. Mdina, home to only about 250 people, is a magnificent walled city and generously populated with Norman and Baroque palaces, churches and homes. It’s a miracle the Game of Thrones producers missed it.

On arriving we were welcome by an insane wind and loud bangs. Thankfully Mdina wasn’t having a wind assisted collapse – these, we believe, were artillery shells exploded close by. Above, we could even see puffs of smoke, akin to a failed firework.

After entering the citadel, and having a quick coffee at the first tourist trap we discovered, we wandered around the small but pleasingly proportioned Mdina. It is properly magnificent, a wonderfully preserved slice of medieval history. Mercifully, the wind was flaying us alive, we found a sunny and protected square happily habited by a pub. The wine was mediocre but the shared bruschetta excellent. The influence of Italian cuisine is everywhere in Malta and an excuse to eat unhealthy amounts of pizza.

We decided on another look around – discovering what we’d already seen – before heading to the romantically titled Ditch Gardens located at the base the walls.

Exiting Mdina I saw a bus readying to leave for Valletta – at the loss of a few calories we made the bus. Rejoice.

Back in Valletta we went wild. A couple of ales at 67 Kapitali, a glass a glass of vino at a nearby wine shop, all washed down with chocolate and Netflix. Lovely.

Gozo, Not Gozo, Three Cities

If we have to be at an airport, on the other side of London, by 6 o’clock then we’ll be outside waving at Ubers. In the rain. If, however, there is no early start we tend not to get our poo together until mid to late morning.

And that’s why we missed the ferry to Gozo. Be warned, the last morning ferry leaves at 9.45am, the next one is not until an inconvenient 1.45pm.

The Three Cities, the neighbourhoods of Vittoriosa (also known as Birgu), Senglea and Cospicua, sit across from the Grand Harbour and surround the Vittoriosa Marina. The marina is a happy home to large, expensive looking floaty things. Some of said floaty things are house size and appear to have their own staff.

Vittorosia, with that harbour and must have fort, is especially attractive though with beautiful buildings from the 16th century mixed with modern renovations and restaurants with views the 3 cities are a lovely way to wile away an afternoon. Throw in a seriously relaxed wine accompanied lunch and it was our most chilled day. And perhaps my favourite.

Then the short return scenic ferry trip back across to Valletta. With the added bonus of watching a chap in a very large boat making a complete bollocks of reversing into a decent size space. Great fun.

Gozo, Definitely Gozo

So keen were we not to miss the 9.45am ferry that we surpassed ourselves and caught the 9am ferry. From the Grand harbour in Valetta to Mgarr on Gozo takes about 45 minutes. It’s not particularly cheap, about £15 each return, though convenience won out – our Airb&b was less than 10 minutes walk.

Disembarking at the mildly pleasant Mgarr we went searching, along with our fellow bemused passengers, for some sort of transport. The taxi driver I asked wanted a ridiculously extortionate amount, the buses inconveniently absent and presumably packed.

Wandering into the modern terminal we were accosted by an incredibly persuasive and efficient lady flogging a hop on, hop off bus tour. There was another booth next to hers selling a rival hop on, hop off bus tour though without the all important persuasive and efficient lady. Our buses were red, the rival’s green. We saw both at the same locations, often at the same time. I doubt either is better than the other.

We bought 2 day passes – about £20 each. It proved an excellent compromise between a taxi driver financing a mistress and the lesser spotted local bus service.

Perhaps a tad tacky but a hop on, hop off bus was a convenient way for us to witness Gozo and get to those must see – or not so must see – tourist destinations. It’s not perfect, buses were often late, 45 minutes between each bus is not especially opportune and buses will become crowded in peak season. For us, on a day trip from Valletta in March, they worked well. However, if we were staying on Gozo, local buses or hiring a car would prove better alternatives.

Like most passengers we gravitated to the upper deck for the views. Fuck it was windy and a smidgen chilly. A few less hardy passengers abandoned the upper deck for the hurricane free lower deck. We bravely endured, literally holding onto our hats. We criss crossed Gozo, twice passing through the attractive capital Victoria, and briefly stopping at Dwejra with its pretty coastline.

We finally left the bus at the ‘quaint fishing village’ of Marsalforn. Marsalform is neither quaint, a village or particularly pretty with the exception of the bay it happens to be located on. It very much has the feel of a town developed to accommodate and entertain the tourist hoards. Who were conspicuously absent in March.

Highlights included a stroll along the rocky foreshore and spotting 2 holidaying octopuses in the bay. Along the foreshore was the odd small saltpan though more impressive specimens are located some distance from the bus stop – not mentioned in the advertising blurb. A Romanian tourist was especially excited. We decided to eat and bugger off – we’ve seen huge saltpans in Bolivia.

Our only other stop, with the exception of the ferry, was the magnificent 5,500 year old Ggantija Megalithic Temples – that’s older than the Pyramids and, not surprisingly, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. These 2 remarkably preserved temples have a common wall but separate entrances. Properly incredible. To think these same stones were touched by people like me and you over 5,000 years ago.

As I’ve mentioned 45 minutes between buses is not ideal and, having visited the small museum and the temples, we missed the next one. Nevertheless, this gave us the opportunity, suspiciously scrutinised by a security guard, to wander around these wonderfully evocative monuments a second time. And wandered we did.

We arrived back at the Mgarr and the ferry terminal early and strolled around the harbour front before our return journey to Valletta.

I wasn’t convinced by Gozo with the obvious and worthy exception of the megalithic temples and possibly Victoria. Sus was more forgiving. To be fair we only saw and visited parts of the island accessible by an open top bus. Even so, not somewhere I’ll be poetry penning about.

Inevitably we finished our day with 67 Kaptali and Netflix.

St Julian’s, Hard Hats, Tacky

A 13A bus took us to the town of St Julian’s. We explored the likeable sea front and discovered some very expensive apartments in an area going through a huge amount of redevelopment and renovation. Some had private harbours. Nice.

After continued exploring we discovered the vaguely Superman sounding Paceville. There’s the small, slightly scruffy St. George’s Bay beach behind which sits numerous clubs, bars, restaurants, casinos and cinemas. Many are open to the early morning attracting a younger crowd with the more mature preferring the upmarket wine bars and restaurants. Hotels of all flavours cater for the presumably drunken masses.

Again it’s part of the island that has gone huge development in recent times. Paceville is undoubtably going for sophisticated. We thought it horrible and tacky.

A stroll back to St Julian’s harbour and a bite to eat. The food was decent, the wine better and an ongoing shouting match between our waitress and one of the chefs thoroughly entertaining.

Back to Valletta and a stroll around the city exploring parts we had yet to see.

I won’t ask you to guess how we ended the day. Memorably, we added humus and tortillas to the mix.

More Megalithic, More Valletta

Malta has it’s own Megalithic temples – Hagar Qim. No relation to everyone’s favourite comic strip Viking. A 72 bus bus, after about 45 minutes, drops megalithic devotees in the small and agreeable town of Qrendi. Apparently closed on our visit with the exception of those ubiquitous 2 blokes plus digger, digging, Presumably a very important hole. From there it’s a 20 minute-ish meander to the site itself.

There are 2 sites separated by a easily walkable 500 metres. Both are of a similar age to our megalithic friends on Gozo – 3,600BC to 3,200BC. That’s before Elton John. They sit in a picturesque landscape with wonderful sea views though partly restored by over zealous Victorians.

As with the Gozo megalithic temples Hagar Qim is a worthwhile tick in a tourist checklist. Make it a big tick.

Then a 74 bus directly from Hagar Qim to Valletta. The reason we didn’t travel on the 74 directly to Hagar Qim was an hour wait. We live in London, not even trees stand still for that long.

The bus ride is interesting in it’s own right. Small towns, countryside and small farms all come into then out of view. Be proud to be a tourist, stare out of the windows and not at your phone.

Back in Valletta we explored Floriana a short stroll from the bus terminal. The late 18th century Saint Publius Church dominates one end of a large square featuring what I thought to be the unfortunate stumps of a much larger and presumably older building. However, after consulting the intrawebby, it appears they were grain granaries the stumps being stone covers. The space is now used for concerts and the always fun political mass meetings.

Floriana burbs are an interesting mix of government buildings and a slowly – but inescapably – gentrifying area of dense and attractive buildings. The Argotti and Mall Gardens beautify the area – Valletta does gardens better than most.

Rambling aimlessly brought us to the Lower Barrakka Gardens, which along with Upper Barrakka Gardens, offer wonderful views across the Grand Harbour. Our digs were just below the Upper Barrakka Gardens – built on top of a bastion they date back 1661 when those lucky Knights used it as their private garden. When we had visited, a couple of days previously, students along with proud parents, were utilising the gardens as a background for, sometimes inventive, graduation photos. Those Knights would be proud. And probably charging an entrance fee.

And, each day at noon, members of the Malta Heritage Society (dressed in British Artillery uniforms) fire a salute.

That evening we ate at Gugar (gugarmalta.blogspot.com) which was cheap, cheerful and a proper hippy hangout for those pretending to be in India. And then, in contrast, we found WHY NOT? It’s one of those places you wish you’d discovered earlier in the week – the staff were friendly, the wine was excellent and, though we didn’t eat, the cheese and meat platters looked spectacular. Recommended.

Home

The following morning was our last. We had a leisurely morning before heading to the airport and London.

One oddity before I go. Malta’s tap water is not the best. However, it is safe to drink. And we did. On a couple of occasions, when asking for tap water we were warned of the dire consequences of drinking said water. Strange.

We both loved Valletta – it’s architectually interesting, fortuitously located with numerous spots to eat, drink and be as merry as you might wish. Beyond Valletta it’s megaliths and Mdina that charm. For a short break we’d certainly consider popping over to Valletta again.