It's not easy getting around in Malta but once you realise that buses and ferries are the go, you start to relax. We take both to Blue Lagoon, walking the rocky pathways past the little stalls selling food and drinks (alcohol allowed!), in Australia we're not trusted to drink by the sea. We wander up the hill past saffron puffs of wildflowers and lilac flowered bushes and then down to the lagoon. We find a small patch of rock to leave our towels, having left our valuables in a locker at the top (recommended). It's like swimming in liquid aquamarine! White sand beneath us, we swim to the other side and climb up onto the rocks to stare back across the expanse of crystalline turquoise.
We get the boat back to the island of Gozo and a taxi to it's capital, Victoria. Beautiful craft shops, bars and restaurants in old stone buildings. Again, such a mix of European and English shopkeepers and waiters. We lunch on a platter of tiny fried seafood, we wander the tiny streets eating jammy figs and soft strawberries that we buy on our walk.
We take a taxi back to the ferry. The partner accidentally leaves his wallet in the taxi and it takes off before we realise it. The partner runs one way after it and I go the other as it's a loop that the road takes, but we miss it and end up breathless in front of a travel agent. The partner is hopeful they'll know the driver whose name he has asked, being an inquisitive soul. I'm skeptical but being a Libran, he's assured of a nine lives policy attached to his persona and I'm right. One of the men knows the son of the driver and rings him; he then calls his dad and within ten minutes the driver returns smiling, wallet in hand. We make the ferry within minutes of it leaving with the impression that the Maltese are an honest race and very helpful.
We return to shower and have dinner at the Baker Maltese cafe. A rich rabbit stew with bay leaves, nutmeg, red wine and tomatoes and an octopus one that is flavoured with capers, olives, red wine, lemon zest, peas and potatoes with the weird broad bean dip as a free starter, all washed down with a lovely light Maltese wine. We speak to the owner who tells us that it is only in the last seven years that Valletta has come alive with tourism, before it was a ghost town. Slowly they are restoring the beautiful old stone buildings with their arched roofs and colourful balconies and doors.
On our last day with get a taxi to St Peter's pool. The taxi drivers all seem to be Maltese and a chatty, story telling bunch. This one drops us off seemingly in the middle of nowhere and tells us it's a short walk to the famed pool. This, we find out, is one of his many far fetched stories. Luckily it's early in the morning and the heat is just starting to gather as we wander past the prickly pear cactus that are starting to fruit; fig trees with branches of fat unripe fruit that seem to attract white snails that are dozing in the early morning sun; past ramshackle houses, dogs dozing; dry fields blanched in the heat, and finally after a half an hour walk, we come across the pool that's slightly dirty with human debris of plastic and paper which is a bit of a disappointment. The locals have set up camp with sustenance and loud music. Still we make the most of it and swim and then get directions back to the village as there's no reception and no taxis waiting to return us to civilisation.
Marsolokk village is stunning, a small fishing port where colourful boats are moored in clear jade green waters full of schools of fish. Hot and slightly bothered from our walk, we sit at a restaurant near the water and order a huge lunch. Prawn patties (Polpetties), made with tiny sweet prawns and a dusting of flour to hold them together with a hint of garlic, fried in butter, the waiter told us; mussels in wine and garlic and sea urchin pasta in a delicate sauce of garlic and parsley to allow the deep orange agate coloured urchin meat to shine.
We wander the dusty back sleepy backstreets to walk off lunch and back down through the little stalls along the water selling colourful crafts, hats and clothes. Going for a cool drink at another waterside cafe, we ask about taxis and the Maltese owner gives us free mineral water, orders us a taxi and waves us on our way.
Back in Valletta, we do some last minute shopping. There are Maltese glass shops everywhere and I dearly want to take home a beautiful glass pumpkin but it's too heavy to carry throughout the rest of our journey. We visit St. John's Co-Cathedral to see the famous Caravaggio painting, The Beheading of St. John the Baptist. The cathedral was plain and austere once but that was before the Knights went to Rome - they came back inspired by Baroque and every surface was covered in different decorative finishes and techniques. Ornate is an understatement.
Caravaggio was a master of light and dark - chiaroscuro. He was an Italian artist, with a terrible temper who was always getting into trouble with the law. He had to flee Rome after getting into a brawl and killing a man and he reached Malta hoping to seek protection through the Knights of St. John, which they gave to him as they must have been excited about having such a famed artist from Italy suddenly arriving on their island. They commissioned him to paint the above painting and he briefly attempted a spiritual life but came unstuck after another fight with some of the knights. He escaped quietly but was expelled from the order. He did however, leave one of his largest and only signed paintings (his signature in St John's pool of blood, came to light in the 1950's when the painting was restored), on the island. The painting is an altarpiece and is overwhelming with intensity and differing emotions: "Death and human cruelty are laid bare by this masterpiece, as its scale and shadow daunt and possess the mind." (Jonathon Jones). It is considered to be one of the most important works in Western painting.
On our last night here, we decide to eat at the first cafe we ate at on the staircase. At dusk, the light is beautiful, delicate fairy lights cast a suffused glow over the stone buildings, the glass chandeliers are glowing, a guitarist serenades us as we have codfish patties with a hot chilli sauce and sweet potato chips. Malta, you are returning to your former glory.
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