Exploring Malta

After spending the Saturday on the lounge, watching thunderstorms outside, on Sunday I decided to brave the weather, and go explore some old stuff on the Xemxija Heritage Trail.

I navigated my way behind the row of unassuming houses and businesses that fronted the harbour, and climbed the ancient Roman Road, replete with pilgrims crosses and cart ruts.

This road wound its way up quite a steep incline, past the first cave. I actually missed this on the way up as I was a little too intent on the whole climbing up a steep Roman road business, but I saw it on the way down...I also noticed the enormous wasp nest nestled by the information board, so gave it a skip. What I did notice on the way up was the at first slightly creepy, but then fascinating, apiaries. Before reading the sign I assumed they were some sort of tomb. Not the case at all. Although as I type this I realise that potentially they had an apiary near so many tombs for burial reasons.

Perhaps it was because the weather was so overcast and gloomy that I was assuming everything was gloomy and macabre, but then I got caught in a downpour...and had to take shelter in one of the ancient burial caves(more an open-mouthed cavern thankgoodness), that was nestled next to a thousand year old carob tree. On edge doesn`t quite begin to explain how I felt up there, looking out over Xemxija Bay as the rain lashed across the hills. But when nothing loomed out of the depths of the cave, my rational mind was allowed back into the driving seat.

Thankfully, the rain didn`t last long, so I continued my exploration of this free, volunteer run, historic site. Like these caves that were still being lived in until just after WWI, but which I was too scared to go into further than the doorway for a quick photo.

And a reconstructed farmers house, complete with the quaint bench and round pen out the front of the house(the latter supposedly for keeping small farm animals close during the night or inclement weather).

A Punic tomb (you may know this group of people as the Carthaginians), with a style of burial that is unexpected and somewhat rare for this area of Malta.

That closed my Sunday off for me, and I trotted off back to St Pauls Bay ( only an hour or so walk), and then met up with my new friends for dinner, and some drinks at a hilarious Elvis themed bar.

On Monday, I hopped on the bus and took myself off to Mdina, the old capital, and another walled city (by the end of my trip I would have visited three such cities).

The main square outside the cathedral was beautiful, but also interestingly enough double as a carpark around the edges. I sat and waited for the bells to ring here on the hour. And they were so dull! But still good to hear. One of my favourite things to do when travelling is to listen to the bells in each city, they all seem to say something different about where you are, and are something I find magical.

Coming from Sydney, where the architecture is mostly around the 100 years old or newer, it was fascinating to see all the differences that each country, city and time period has. Perhaps my favourite being the little statues on corners of buildings, which I later found out in Prague used to be used to identify buildings, before house numbers and street names became common.

Does that mean that door knockers were used in the same way perhaps? To identify and distinguish residences??? Probably not, but they were still striking all the same.

After I had zigzagged every conceivable street of Mdina, I strode off into Rabat...and may have gotten a little lost en route to the catacombs.

Which I found incredibly eerie, spooky, and so unsettling that I was waiting by the entrances of each of the tombs for another group of people to go in before me so I could follow them. 

According to the information boards on display, there was Pagan, Christian, and Jewish burials on this site, and a few different ways of creating the graves.

While it was incredible to see such ancient resting places, I was honestly glad to be out, so treated myself to a nice lunch, with the biggest negroni Ive ever had. Either they didn`t know what they were doing, or they really knew what they were doing.

Tuesday was my last day, so I packed my bags that morning(yeah that tiny pink flamingo backpack is all I took), and headed into Valetta, my third and final walled city of this trip.

In my usual style, I headed off into the streets as far away from other tourists as I could get, and was rewarded with a beautiful view over the water and Fort Elmo.

I continued around the headland, passing by the actual entrance to the fort, what looked like fishing shacks, a war memorial, and on to the Lower Barrakka Gardens.

Having spent the day walking up and down the hilly streets of Valleta, and looking for a more relaxed indoors entertainment option, I remembered that a friend had told me about a little painting hiding away on Malta. A quick google led me to the St John`s Co-Cathedral.

A truly astounding church, full of beautiful alters, relics, amazing gravestones of the Knights of St John`s underfoot, more relics, and beautiful art.

Did I mention there are some works by Caravaggio floating around the place as well? Because there was two, both displaying his distinctive chiaroscuro style developed by him, with the strong contrast between light and dark.



After which I treated myself to a glass of Maltese wine, Maltese cheese, and Maltese crackers. 

Delicious, before racing off the airport in the purpling twilight to return to London for my last few days.

And a cracking way to end my first solo trip.