A Maltese Adventure

It's our last day at sea, a gray and almost-stormy day.  We're sitting in our cozy cabin reading and watching our trip progress on the bridge cam.  we both are on the edge of sore throats and colds, so it's a good day to rest.  Maybe we will leave our cabin before dinner...maybe not. :)

I was a little wary about what Malta would have for us after our visit to Tunis.  We sailed into the harbor just as the sun was rising, passing for the first time, very closely, tiny little fishing boats, which rocked and bobbed in our not insignificant wake.  The bay was so beautiful, forts and limestone dwellings and colorful boats.  The Maltese language is an interesting hybrid of arabic, italian, and other languages.

The international strongman competition was being held on Malta the day we were there.  We've all seen this competition - it was the same men we've seen on cable tv sports channels. One was pulling a semi along the harbor.

We had decided to take the hop on, hop off tourist bus.  In all our years of travel, we've been avoiding those double-decker, open air buses that seemed filled with tourists snapping photos from the air, trailing obnoxious commentary from too-loud speakers.  But, it is our goal to experience as much as possible, and we knew the distances were more than walkable. Plus, a maltese man on the cruise told us the north route was the best way to see the island.

We located our bus, paid our 15 euro fare, were given some earphones, and climbed to the top.  We noted the bus had definitely seen better days.  The day was heating up quickly, and we were dismayed by how long we sat waiting to begin.  The time of scheduled departure came and went, and still we sat.  Finally, after a few false starts, the bus's engine cranked over,and we sat for a few more minutes, this time bathed in deisel fumes.  After much honking and swearing, we eased into the chaos of the Valletta streets, narrowly avoiding a horse drawn tourist buggy and some scooters.  We took a fifteen minute tour of downtown Valletta, then creaked and groaned back to the same spot we started from!  I was starting to get a serious grump going on.  We sat for several minutes longer, and I stewed, looking at the schedule and realizing that it was a three hour tour around the island, and that if we actually hopped off at one of the many stops, it would be a dubious proposition that another bus would actually be following behind to pick us up.  Any pictures I took would feature the heads of my bus-mates.  Humph, I humphed. A wasted day?

We started up again, and lumbered through town through streets barely wide enough for the bus.  Our open air seats were level with the second story residences above the stores.  We passed through a poor section of town, then headed out to open roads near factories and warehouses.  We were buffeted by strong winds, burnt to a crisp in the 90 degree heat, our fillings were rattled out by bad roads and worse shocks...but once I got over my damn self, I realized what a fantastic time I was having!  We had three hours of open air vistas of this phenomenal island nation state.  We saw small farms, charming villages, and rich tourist areas.  We crept down steep hills and hoped for proper brake maintenance and climbed up again, all laughing that we would need to get out to push.  We navigated roads by ravines so narrow we hoped not to tumble over the sides.  We barrelled around corners, honking to warn the oncomers of our overwhelming road presence.  We passed through tiny narrow streets that we had to back up to make the corner.  We got stuck in a traffic jam that included a donkey cart.  We passed by a harbor with thousands of boats worth millions of dollars.  Both Maltese and tourists alike waved to us from second story balconies or sidewalk cafes.  Yes, a lot of my photos have tops of heads in them.  But it was a gloriously, spectacularly fun, fun day.  May you all have...

Our island circumnavigation completed, We soon were in search of some Maltese food.  We walked through pedestrian-only streets and scouted the sidewalk cafes for arancini, a local Maltese dish - a fried ball of rice stuffed with a variety of spiced meats.  We found the dish at Cafe Mateo, and along with a Maltese beer and some local wine, we had ourselves a nice afternoon treat.  The arancini was as good as I thought it might be.  Yummy.

We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering, went to the war museum and the Upper Barakka gardens for a panoramic view of the harbor and the city.


On the way back to the ship, we saw a boy with a suspicious looking "O" on his backpack.  Yes, he was from Oregon.  But not only that:  He grew up in Portland, graduated from the U of O, plays trumpet in the ship's orchestra, but strangest of all: He lives less than a half mile from us in Eugene, just around the corner from the Albertson's on 30th.  And yes, we meet him on a tiny little island in the Mediterranean.

Grazzi Haffa for your hospitality, Malta.  Our last port at sea was another great experience.  A bit hard to believe that it's the last.

Greece is beckoning, on to Athens. Thanks for reading.