MALTA!

On the final day of June, we dropped off George at the Catania Airport at the ungodly hour of 5:30 am, then continued south to catch a ferry for a quick trip to the island of Malta.

MALTA.  The name itself just conjures up a feeling of excitement, of the unknown.  (You can’t honestly tell me you know anything about the country of Malta either!)  Not exactly European, a blend of Mediterranean and North Africa with an underlying British feel.  ABSOLUTELY BIZARRE might be a better adjective for our first impression – a sort of “European Mexico” where the buildings look like suburbs of Cairo or Morocco yet white people run around speaking English and driving on the wrong side of the road.

But before I delve into our adventure, let me give you its backstory: Malta, as Wikipedia will clearly tell you, is an ‘island country in the Mediterranean Sea that lies south of the island of Sicily.’  Despite its small size and general insignificance, Malta has a rich history dating back to the 4^th millennium BC, where Neolithic Era (translated: old and crumbly) buildings date.  Over the centuries its gentle harbors have attracted Phoenicians, Greeks, Romans, Arabs, Normans, Crusaders, the French, and finally the British around 1800, who held Malta as a colony until its independence in 1964.  It entered the European Union in May 2004 and just started using the Euro this past January.  

 Our high-speed Catamaran, the "Maria Dolores."

Christie laughing at the Italian Red-Tape surrounding ticket purchases.  Despite the short line, buying our tickets took almost as long as the crossing itself!

We traveled to Malta via high-speed catamaran “Maria Delores” from Pozallo, Sicily, as part of Virtu Ferries (www.virtuferries.com) daily service.  The high-speed boat can make the 60 km crossing in an hour and a half, and was one of the smoothest rides I’ve ever felt.  In fact, the only hiccup was towards the end of the ride, when all passengers were asked to participate in an “Evacuation Drill.”  If you’ve never been in one of these, and despite their warnings that it is only a drill, it still is a little unnerving to hear the captain screaming “ABANDON SHIP!” with no land in sight.  We did our best to remain unnoticed by ‘fake sleeping’ (so we weren’t the unparticipating-you-know-whos), but eventually found the comedic element in the whole thing and joined in whole-heartedly.

"I do not know..."

Posing with Gerfried Gerstorfer, a German who has lived in Malta for 5 years and NEVER BEFORE taken part in one of these 'drills.'

Upon arrival, we jumped on the island’s premier form of transportation: BUS.  But not just any bus, Malta’s busses are a story (or blog post) all to themselves: bright yellow & orange 1950s holdovers driven by ex-cons with music blaring.  Perhaps they weren’t ex-cons, but their general demeanor and regard towards those with incorrect change certainly gave that impression.  

Typical Maltese Busses... original, and complete with their own name & patron saint!

We made two quick connections and safely arrived at our hotel in Sliema, a beachside hotspot filled with hordes of young people.  In fact, Malta is swarmed by teenagers – young Brits roam the streets happy to be away from ‘mum’ for the first time while German, Spanish, and Italian youngsters flock to the English Language schools like it is a permanent form of Spring Break.

Speaking of language, English is the official language of Malta, but practically speaking it is everyone’s second (after Maltese, Italian, German, or even Arabic.)  This results in an almost incomprehensible language where everyone seems to be searching for words.  You get a lot of umms, ahhs, and “I do not knows.”  I even find myself struggling to speak good (or is it well?) here.

Bays and Buildings line Malta's rugged coastline.

Regardless, Malta is a foreign yet familiar place, where the sea is the one unifying factor.  In Valetta & surrounding coastal cities, buildings stack on top of each other as if built with life-size concrete legos, all clamoring for a view of the mostly rocky shore.  Almost half of them sit unfinished.  Perhaps it is this blend of new and old under a blazing sun that gives it a Mazatlan feel as well.

Golden Bay, on Malta's west coast, is its most highly-acclaimed beach.

Christie was most at home in the pool, happy with her British Tabloids!

In the afternoon, after gouging ourselves with TGIFriday's Burgers, we made our way across the island to "Golden Bay," an aptly-described picturesque beach.  It sits gracefully between a tall cliff and a 5-star resort, although at this point in our adventure we guiltily admit we are a little "sun-sick," and didn't get overly excited about it.  Perhaps the blazing temperature of the sand - which would spontaneously combust any piece of exposed skin - had something to do with it as well.  We therefore snuck into the pool at the Radisson and enjoyed a fantastic afternoon under large umbrellas and in their glistening pool.  (For anyone who needs advice on sneaking into resorts and/or health-clubs, I am officially an expert.)

I must say that at first impression, Malta is definitely interesting - I can't believe such a place exists so close to Sicily and yet is completely a world away!

~ J. Twice