Category: Uncategorised (page 1 of 9)

Malta – Day 7

He must have thought I was a peahen

A lovely day for my final day in Malta. First port of call was costa’s famous basilica,  famous for its survival after a bomb fell through the roof in 1942 but failed to explode. An Italian pilot was lightning his load and accidentally dropped it on the church but, as Maria quipped, since it was Italian in didn’t behave as it should have done, and failed to explode, fortunately since 300 people were attending mass inside the church. A replica of the bomb is on display – rather odd to see in a church.  The Ro

Unexpected sign in a church

man Catholic Church was built in 1833-1860 and is based on the Pantheon in Rome. Leaving the church we only were allowed 25 minutes to climb up to the balcony in the dome, visit the WW ll bunkers and/or get morning coffee.

Cannons and religion

I opted for the bunkers, just outside the basilica and saw reconstructions of the life that the people seeking safety lived. Lace making, hairdressing equipment and sewing machines were all part of life underground. 

Then we were off to visit the San Anton Gardens in Attard. Because the towns in Malta are so densely populated every inch of land in the towns is taken up with building, apart from the few designated gardens which are open to the public. In fact apart from palm trees there are no trees on Malta and so there is no wood at all for building material.

The gardens surround a palace that was originally built in the early 17th century and is now the residence of Malta’s prime minister. As I wandered around there numerous walkways I came to a gate manned by a soldier and at that moment a cavalcade of vehicles drew up and the soldier saluted. I guess the prime minister was in the car! The walled gardens were opened to the public in 1882 and it was lovely to see so much color in the flowers. I hadn’t realized until then how much I’d missed seeing colorful blooms. Of course the Maltese kitties were enjoying sunning themselves in the plant pots too. Several trees with the spiky and bottle-shaped trunks that I’d seen in Sicily were present and peacocks were strutting their stuff beneath them. 

The president arrives – off camera!

Lunch was at the coastal village of Marsaxlokk which is described as a typical fishing village, but the restaurants and street vendors have moved in and nowadays it’s a tourist haven  too. Still, it was very very pretty with the traditional highly colored fishing boats and there were shoals of fish chomping on pieces of bread. Fishermen had their nets strewn along the quayside and on the menu for one outdoor restaurant, alongside the fried rabbit was octopus stew. I’d been holding out for a dish of mussels until I found a good place by the ocean so here was my opportunity since we were all free to find our own lunch. 

We spent the rest of the afternoon on a tour of the three cities of Senglea, Vittoriosa and Cospicua whose fortifications were built by the Knights of St John. Streets almost narrow enough for people on opposite balconies to shake hands were the order of the day with peeling paint and weathered stone – just my sort of place. The week after I’d got back from my trip I saw a quote from L.S. Lowry in the Manchester Art Gallery: “I seem to have a strong feeling towards decayed houses in deteriorated areas ….” Preparations were being made for the Superleague Triathlon event the next day and tents, camera men and portable toilets and barricades were being set up along our route. In the church of St Lawrence in Valletta there were several clothed skeletons reminding me of the catacombs in Palermo. 

Our final dinner with the group was back in Sliema, at Piccolo Padre, a lovely ending to an interesting trip full of surprises. 

Final dinner

The next morning I left Malta, bound for Leeds/Bradford airport along with another member of the group, and had a trouble-free trip back to Hebden Bridge where the all the colours of Autumn had come to the town in the week that I’d been gone.

Malta – Day 6

As I looked out from my window this morning a flock of birds were circling and soaring around the half built tower blocks. Later I showed my video of their antics to our group but no-one could identify what species they were. 

First on the agenda were two temples – Hagar Qim and Mnajdra. First we were treated to a three D movie about the history of the temples. Perched at the edge of the cliff it brought to mind the Temple of Sounion in Greece that I’d visited way back in 1976. The temples here predate Stonehenge by 1000 years, and they were built before Skara Brae in Orkney too, though I could see many similarities. Hagar Qim is the oldest free standing structure on earth and has now been shielded from the devastating effects of weathering by being covered in a giant tent – a protective canopy. It really looks like an alien space station! The lower temple was down a steep track and golf carts were available for anyone who didn’t want to walk. I took the opportunity of this so that I could have a few minutes back up at the top to wander along the cliff top by myself before the others arrives and we continued on our way.

Next was a short minibus ride to  The Blue Grotto for a 20 minute boat ride into the various sea caves, marveling at the turquoise color off the water as we went. I bought a couple of calendars at the wayside gift shop on my way back to the bus.

As we made our way in yet another mini bus and a new driver Maria mentioned that until about 20 years ago women did not work outside the home in Malta. It would have been seen as a failure of the man to provide for his family. Now women work, which means they have less time to shop at local stores. She, herself, stocks up on groceries at the supermarket once a month. So locally soured products are suffering.

Lunch at the farm

We were on our way to Malta Sunripe to meet an entrepreneurial farmer and his wife who are eager to share their love of farming with tourists. Alongside their 4 enormous greenhouses, each contain 9800 tomato plants they run a farm kitchen where they produce jams and wines, and also have a restaurant featuring their home grown produce. Delicious!

In the wine cellar

We were taken to see the wine cellar that the farmer and his family had carved into the bedrock themselves only a few years ago. After lunch we were shown a film about their work and then we got to tour one of the greenhouses.

8 members of the family farm the tomatoes which means they have to take it in turns to go on vacation because the plants need daily work – planting, tying, applying fertilizer, keeping bumble bees that pollinate the plants. In the summer they paint the roof of the glass house with chalk to stop the sun burning the plants. By the time the rain arrives later in the year the sun is not so hot and the chalk dissolves. Very clever!

On the way back to Sliema we saw the huge building project funded by the EU of 6 new flyovers. One had been completed. Work goes on there 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Maria mentioned that newly weds tend to purchase  their homes. If they can’t meet the 10% down payment the government steps in and gives them an interest free loan. Wow! People generally live with their parents until they get married, and the average age of marriage is just over 30.

For an interesting take on the problems with the Maltese economy take a look at the first 10 minutes of this: https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b0bnb6vc/mediterranean-with-simon-reeve-series-1-episode-1

Today’s kitty

We were back at the hotel by 5:30 for a ‘free evening’ but I didn’t want a free evening. This was when I think a WhatsApp idea for those who wanted to partner up with someone else from the group would have been a good idea: get the ferry over to Valletta after dark, relax at an oceanfront bar, go beach combing. I didn’t want to eat in. A restaurant alone and though I thought about taking a nap I was too excited to sleep, so I headed out along the oceanfront to explore the peninsula. A map had promised Victorian Baths, but I didn’t find them. Still, it was nice to potter about on the rocks for a while. I went back to the mini market which had been closed on the first night and was surprised to find how good it was. It was the only food store I’d been into, or even seen on the trip. 

Malta – Day 5

Day 5

I was woken intermittently during the night by rumbles of thunder in the distance and it was rather overcast when I look out of my window, carefully screening myself from the guys already hard at work on the construction site opposite.

Roof-top kitty

I began the day by walking along the seafront for half and hour or so, checking out the kitties in the playground, and noticing that every second business was selling real estate. 

After breakfast we headed out for our 90 minute boat trip in Malta’s Grand Harbour. Maria had told us that the only way to really appreciate the vastness of the harbour was to see it by boat, and though this sounded decidedly like a marketing ploy – Boy! Was that true. There are 5 ‘fingers’ to this natural  harbour and it’s still a hub of activity with its cranes, oil rigs, high end yachts, dry docks for ship building and fishing vessels. I saw a huge crane that was shaped like a head and neck of a giraffe in the distance, and, lo and behold, when our boat drew close, the rigging of the crane had been painted in the brown and yellow spots of the giraffe. Our of our group explained to me that the oil rigs were just there for storage, they weren’t drilling.

She was from Aberdeen and working in that industry. There were lots of small boats adjusting their sails as they travelled. They were practicing for a big yacht race this coming weekend. The five star formation of the fort was easier to see from the ocean and its fortress walls seemed impenetrable. I could also see the hospital and appreciate its long length and how amazing its unsupported ceiling must have been when it was built. 

Lifestyles of the rich and famous

Then onto Mdina where Maria pointed out various places we could have lunch from our central point outside the cathedral. As we approached the central square through the narrow streets I could hear a symphonic band playing songs from Jesus christ Superstar – one of my family’s favourite musicals. I couldn’t wait to see them close up. Four of us headed for a very pleasant lunch in the courtyard of a former palace. We asked our waiters for help with translation of the menu but its was difficult. They were Albanian and Sicilian.

I chose to be adventurous and selected the monkfish carpaccio with the best roast potatoes in the world. Despite the ‘relaxed’ rate of service I still had an hour after lunch to explore the city alone, and found myself taking lots of photos of door knockers. These were a symbol of your social status, and some were very elaborate – daily with a nautical theme.

Like Murano Mdina is noted for its glass and I took a look in a couple of the glass studios. I found some lovely pieces but didn’t fancy my chances about getting them home, or the the U.S in one piece. 

Glass octopus

When we met up again, at the British phone box (they look as though they’ve been planted by mistake – along with the British post boxes) we visited a Roman villa with intact mosaic floors and then on to the catacombs. I must admit I was a little disappointed with these at first. After visiting the amazing catacombs in Palermo last year where the skeletons and both posed and clothed, just seeing holes hacked into the bedrock where the corpses would have lain was not as mind blowing. 

We arrived back at the hotel at 5:30 and met up for dinner an hour later, organized by Maria, at Gululu about 20 minutes walk along the waterfront.

Rabbit is the featured local food but I had clam and aubergine pasta, my first pasta dish of the trip. It was delicious. Our talk at dinner was mainly about places our group had visited –  Cambodia, Egypt, Morocco. I think everyone had been to India at some time in their lives. This is so different from conversation in America where the topic might included visiting a second home at Lake  Tahoe, or a beach holiday in Florida. Malta had 2 1/2 million tourists last year and 30% of the GDP is tourism. Malta can only provide 23% of its own food. The rest has to be imported, much of it from Sicily. Legislation states than new factories must employ native Maltesers and private schools teach English as their first language. Speaking English is a status symbol so the Maltese language is on the decline. All medical treatment is free, though you can take out health insurance to gain faster service. It only costs 20 Euros for a home visit from your family GP.  There is 3% unemployment. The only natural resource on the island is stone, and the original 50 quarries are now down to 3. Most families have a ‘Sunday only’ car in addition to 2 ‘regular’ cars. Sunday cars have a different colored license plate and can only be driven on Sundays so they only pay 1/7 of the road tax and insurance. As you can see – we had a very informative conversation over dinner. I’d not seen any drunken Brits on this trip as I had expected to, or anyone drunk or homeless. The expensive areas are being bought up by Chinese and Russians and there’s a big gaming industry on the island. No property tax either.

 I walked back along the seafront alone and stopped to watch a men’s waterpolo match in a swimming pool at the ocean’s edge.

Dinner with the group
View as I walked back to the hotel

Malta – Day 4

New hat

A 9 a.m. departure to spend the entire day in Valletta. It was to be a hot day, entirely outdoors so I donned my new hat (bought at a street vendor’s yesterday) and my new pink dress that I’d purchased on my trip to Whitby with Anna. It was only a half hour drive to Valletta. The entire town is a UNESCO site and is laid out on a grid system with very narrow streets to provide shade. 

Even though it was not yet 10 o’clock we had to queue to enter the city through the grand gate and the gardens with the wonderful look out were teaming with tourists.

Three cats were sitting contentedly on the counter of the cafe1 I soldier in uniform was preparing the cannons for their twice daily firing  – for the tourists’ benefit, I hasten to add. and on our left is the new building known as the ‘cheese grater’ but which is, in fact, the new parliament building. The prime minister’s house/office s an old building with two historical cannons outside. There was no police presence and kids were climbing on the cannons to have their photos taken. A sand coloured statue of a man sitting cold by caught my attention and I asked on of our group to the my photo as I headed to sit down on his lap – just as I had with the statue of Oscar Wilde in Dublin. I got the fright of my life when the statue moved and I realized it was a real man! 

And then he moved!

St John’s Cathedral was our goal. It’s amazingly ornate inside with its 8 chapels, one for each nationality of the knights of St John. Each chapel is highly decorated with mausoleums and elaborate walls of carved limestone topped with gold leaf. Each chapel tried to outdo the others in the wealth of artwork. The marble tombstones on the floor were wonderful, and they looked as if they were specially designed for Hallowe’en with their grinning portrayal of Death. We were told that’s because the knights looked forward to death, such was their religious belief. There were loads of tour groups vying for space especially in front of the two famous paintings by Carravaggio. Each person was issued  a headset so that we could listen to our own our guide.

In our free time I chose to go to a concert in a less elaborate church on the square that I’d seen was to hold a flute duet recital. This meant that I had to skip lunch, but it was a lovely opportunity to get away from the hustle and bustle of the town, and listen to music that was composed around the time the church was built. It was a husband and wife duo and they’d both studied at the Royal college of music in London.

The reverb was magical. Above the altar was a dome, unusual in the fact that the paintings were in shades of grey only, but it definitely had a three dimensional look.  We were free for the rest of the day and while Maria headed back home the rest of us headed towards the fortress at the end of the peninsula. ‘The Malta experience’ was showing a movie about Malta’s history and most of the group headed in that direction – to get away from the ‘stand and shuffle’ routine we’d had for the rest of the day. It was excellent and afterwards we were given a tour of  the hospital of the Knights. I’d never connected the St John’s Ambulance service in England with the Maltese Knights of St John, who were originally a medical service provided for all the pilgrims who went to Jerusalem, but they eventually became a military unit of some severity. It was a long, two story building and features the longest unsupported ceiling in Europe(?).

Each bed had its own toilet built into the wall and  air vents in the walls  led directly to the garden so that the perfume from the citrus plants would scent the ward. Amazing. Presidents bush and Gorbachev met in this very room in 1989 for a press conference at the end of the cold war. Downstairs was the ward for the poor, with 4 people to each bed and toilet. The remains of frescoes can still be made out on the walls above the beds. What was once the garden is now a 1500 seat theatre.

I happened to come out of the building with Marion and we spent the rest of the day together while others from our group heads for the extensive War Museum in the fort. We wandered around the back streets where the wonderful balconies were strewn with washing, and even those apartments without balconies had some sort of contraption whereby they could hang washing outside their window. The balconies originated in the Moslem East when women were not able to leave the house alone, but the protruding balcony gave them access to whatever was going on in the street. We opted for Soul Food for an al fresco early dinner. My salmon salad was delicious but there’s no way I would have guessed that that was what it was from its appearance.

As we headed back to find the bus station I was apprehensive that we wouldn’t recognize our stop, but fortunately we bumped into two more people from our group and we arrived back at the Plaza Regency safely. The buses on the island are well utilized and ours  was packed with people. Back at the hotel I went up to the rooftop bar to have a shufti at the ‘entertainment.’ It turned out to be a good singer, but her ‘stage’ was inadequate and not even lit. 

Day 3 Malta

The day began with a 15 minute boat ride – optional – in Dwejra Bay – where the water was so clear I could easily pick out the bright orange coral. Our trip took us into sea caves clouded with bright purple seaweed. The main attraction was, until 2017 the Azure Window, a sea arch. Well, we had Natural Bridge in Santa Cruz! The location was used for the filming of Game of Thrones – which I’ve never seen.

Then it was a short drive to the Ta Pinu Sanctuary noted for its mosaics both inside and outside the church. Situatd in open countryside near the village of Gharb there are some wonderful views from the plaza which has modern mosaics surrounding it. Though the date of the original church on the site is lost in history this new church was built 1922-1932 in the Neo-Romantic style, and it’s a much visited site since pope John Paul ll celebrated mass here. 

We walked down a steep hill from Zebbug and its tower built by the Knight of Malta to the Salt Pans of Xwejni Bay. This was my favorite sight seeing stop of the day. The limestone rocks here look like frozen waves, made from golden sandstone.

Occasional sections of blood red stone is apparently caused by the oxidation of the limestone. Salt was a very important commodity. Roman soldiers were paid in salt and the crafty officers made sure they paid out on a humid day when the salt would be heavier. From the word saline comes the word salary. I never knew that! I sat down on a ‘frozen wave’ and all around me were fossilized sand dollars. My sitting spot felt a bit lumpy and I found that I’d been sitting on a fossilized sea urchin.

Fossilised sea urchin

Wonderful!  

As our group chatted over lunch in Marlsfornabout the scarcity of good salads in England, and good greens in particular, I made the crazy comment that in the U.S rocket just never took off! We visited a man who has worked in the salt pans all his life and he has a little dug out where he takes his siestas every day.

In fact, there were several doorways into the chambers that have been carved into the solid rock. Pretty neat. 

Today we moved from Gozo to Malta, to the Plaza Regency hotel, right on the waterfront in Sliema. Maria had keeping reiterating g that we would find Sliema very different from Victoria and indeed it was. The waterfront was a mass of real estate shops, clubs, bars and restaurants. The harbor was the home of hundred and top range yachts.

This is how I had pictured Malta – as a destination for Brits in package holidays supping up Watney’s red barrel and turning in to lobsters as they sunbathed on the beaches. As I opened the door into my room on the 7th floor I could see three men pouring concrete almost within arm’s length of my balcony.

View from my window for the next 5 nights

I had a room at the back, facing the building works. No sea view for me. Although there was full kitchen with stove top, microwave and  fridge they were of little use. No mini bar, and what’s more important to me – no milk for my tea! The Wifi was somewhat intermittent and the choice of TV stations was far m ore limited than in Gozo. The only channel I could find in English was a French 24 hour news channel. 

Lookout tower built by the Knights of St John

The group had dinner together in the Neapolitan bar adjacent to the hotel. I was sorry not to be able to watch the England v Bulgaria soccer at the bar across the street but later on the news on the radio I heard about the game being held up twice because of racial slurs directed at some of the English players. At dinner I sat next to Maria and asked her about her interest in tourism and her particular interest in history and archaeology. Apparently she’d wanted to be a tour guide since being very young and had thus specialized in languages and history before going to college to study tourism.  All education, including university is free here, as is all health care. Maira directed me to a minimarket up a dark street, deserted street, ignorer to procure some milk, but it had closed early. So she managed to get the hotel kitchen to sell me a carton. Brilliant. 

View from the roof top bar and pool

Gozo Day 2

Feeling at home! One of our group was wearing a Santa Cruz T shirt today!!! (And the next day he was wearing a Cape Cod shirt)

Love the backdrop to the flea market

After breakfast at 8 I wandered across the street to the Sunday flea market on the sports complex’s car park. I was surprised how inexpensive things were. I’d have thought that the locals would have cashed in on the tourists’ need for something Maltese. There was a nice selection of bric-a-brac – even some old opera programs with the full libretto.

Opera programme on sale at the flea market

At 9 our group met up for a tour of the citadel built high on the limestone protrusion, giving the occupants a 360 degree view of Gozo. The stone fortifications were covered in fossils. I don’t think I’ve every seen so many.

Fossils in the citadel wall

Maria gave us an explanation of the history but it was far too much to take in.  Because of its strategic position in the Mediterranean, controlling maritime traffic from Europe to the Middle East and Africa Malta has been fought over and occupied by many cultures and races throughout its 7000 year history. There is evidence of Bronze Age settlements here, but the acropolis was probably Roman in origin. The whole citadel is a mass of museums and Maria had selected the prison museum. One of the jobs of the prisoners was to remove the soil that was covering the Megalithic tombs that we were to visit in the afternoon. I also had a quick mooch around a typical 4 storey house close by.

Then it was on to the bay for lunch. For transport during the entire tour we had a variety of minibuses. In some the AC worked. In others it didn’t. Often we had several different drivers each day, several different buses so you weren’t able to leave stuff on the bus. On my tour of Ireland we had one tour guide who was also the driver, and our bus had tables, power points and we were able to drink and eat on the bus. Free water was also provided. Here there was no water, and eating and drinking were no allowed. Neither was there any power points. Maria pointed out various places to eat and Sue and I chose an outdoor cafe on the waterside where I had a relatively inexpensive sea risotto. Like everyone else on the tour Sue had taken many Explore vacations.

Lunch in Munxar with Sue from . New Zealand
Anyone for fish?

After lunch we drove to the Megalithic tombs, which, it was once believed, were built and lived in  by giants. These predate Stonehenge and are constructed from huge blocks of limestone. There are many types of limestone on Malta all of which weather differently, producing amazing textures. The site was damaged by the 1693 Sicilian earthquake. Some of the standing stones have been recovered to preserve them because of the problems with weathering.

The museum had the ‘fat lady’ figures which had been discovered here, and the tourist shops did a grand trade in replicas. 

The fat lady sings – Megalithic art

The vegetation here made me quite homesick – for California! Oleanders, pomegranate trees, date palm, figs, olives. We walked down to the beach and while  I paddled  a few people from our group swam for half an hour. 

Paddling in the Med

Back at the hotel we had an hour before we met again to go to see an event in Santa Lucia, the Symphony of Lights. This was not on our tour schedule so most of us took a taxi to see this festival of lights. Thousands of lights were lighting up a hillside above the small village and back on the village square music was being supplied by the man singing to his keyboard while a crowd gathered to watch the procession, taking the Madonna statue back to its niche in the church. As I write this up I’ve just found out what I missed! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SSOOGLKPCxg The band must have started just as we left.

Catholicism is alive and well on the island. I had  dinner with the two couples on the main square in Victoria and walked back through the empty streets with them around 10 p.m. Again, so different from the night-life in Sicily. 

Gozo Day 1

Malta

St Paul’s Bay, Malta

Why Malta? Well, I’ve been going to islands and Malta is an island! Why islands, then? I think in a funny sort of way they are the closest I can get to the deserts of the South West USA. It was Keith who actually verbalized that when we were in Mull last year. He said the landscape there reminded him of Santa Fe, New Mexico, perhaps not so much in its actual features and flora but in its wilderness and sense of space. For years people have been asking me why I spend so much time in the deserts, mainly in ghost towns, and it’s this feeling of someone having lived there in comparative isolation. So why Malta in particular? Pauline  and I had been talking about our visits to  Sicily and she said that if I had enjoyed Sicily I’d be sure to like a trip to Malta. And Malta popped up as I searched for an island to visit in October which I find quite daunting, knowing that with the change of the clocks the dark will set in so early during the day. So, Malta it was. I hadn’t done any planning. I’d barely read the description other than that the focus of the tour was on the history and archaeology of the place, and so I was expecting a replica of Sicily though on a smaller scale.

St Paul’s Bay, Malta

So you can imagine my reaction when I arrived at Malta airport and found all the signs in English. I looked out of the window whilst I snacked on items from an English menu and saw the cars driving on the left. For a moment I thought I’d been on the wrong flight! 

My taxi to Leeds Bradford had been at 3 a.m., a time I’m not particularly familiar with, but, I reasoned, the airport will be quiet. As we drove through the silent streets, illuminated by an almost full moon, chatting about the political situation in Kashmir, I wondered if the cafe at the airport would even be open. The only there time I can remember being at an airport at such an ungodly hour was at Reykjavik, where people were tucking into their Icelandic beers at 4 a.m. My only previous flight from Leeds had been to Amsterdam and that was midmorning and there was virtually no-one around – just two conveyor belts at security. This time, however, the place was packed, though, unlike my visit to Manchester airport, everything was moving along quickly and I got through checkin and security in 40 minutes.  I even had a moment to chat with the nice guy at Jet 2 checkin desk who said, ’Boarding for rows A to J will begin boarding at 5:20.’ I asked him if he knew the Simon Armitage poem, ‘Thank you for Waiting.’  He didn’t but he made a note to look it up:

As I drank my flat white and ate a yoghurt I watched the news about the conflict between  Syria and Turkey, learned that tens of thousands of people were without power in Tokyo following the cyclone and that Southern California was being consumed by wildfires. 

I had a window seat and got a good view of the Italian coast, could see smoke pouring from Mt Etna on Sicily, and then, as we started our descent onto Malta a patchwork of small fields divided by stone walls came into view. In fact there seemed to be so many stone walls that I thought at first I was seeing ruins of an ancient city. But more of that later. 

A lady was holding an ‘Explore’ sign as I emerged from the baggage area and told me that after some other people arrived we would be taken to Gozo, a small island off the mainland, so I settled down in the cafe for an hour. I was surrounded by Brits.

6 people eventually arrived for the transfer and we were shepherded into a minivan, for an hour’s drive to the port, then across the 20 mine ferry ride to Gozo. We could see lots of jellyfish in the clear water and some passengers were dropping bread into the water to attract hungry fish.

Aerial jellyfish over Gozo

Someone was parasailing overhead and he looked just like an airborne jellyfish.  The first thing I noticed on the short drive to our hotel were the walls. Some were in immaculate condition while others were ruins of terraces. The fields these walls were enclosing were tiny. Sometimes rows of prickly pear cactus plants acted as walls.  Over the week I learned a lots about walls: there are courses for dry stone wallers to learn their crafts. Walls are under a preservation order. By creating terraces they provide flat land for crops. They help to stop wind erosion. They provide somewhere for stones picked out of the ground to clear the land to grow crops to rest. A family’s land would be divided amongst the sons who in turn would divide the plots for their sons and so the fields have got smaller and smaller. Some were made from rubble, others cut to perfection.  Apparently I’m not the only one fascinated by Maltese walls:  https://www.ottsworld.com/blogs/walls-made-of-rubble-in-malta/

We checked in to the Downtown Hotel, Vittorija. From my room I could just see the sea around the corner of a building. First I took a bath, and found that the bath was so tiny I had a really hard job extracting myself from it! Then I set out to explore the vicinity for an hour. Close by was a park and as I wandered I came across many kitties. Since Anna and Lee  have recently got a little kitty, Twiglet, I was drawn to the kitties and ended up sending her photos of the kitties I saw on my travels each day of my adventure. I wandered along the main street where all the major British stores can be found such  Marks and Spencers and New Look. The opera house was advertising Othello and Aida. I suppose that people who live in Malta are called Maltesers. I made up my mind to buy a packet, but it wasn’t until I was at the airport on my way home that I found a packet to buy. I walked up to the citadel whose origins are 2500 years old. The bedrock had been hollowed out into storage bins for the grain. I didn’t spend too long up there because we have a guided tour of the place tomorrow morning. In the square a screeching noise, which I thought was machinery, turned out to be thousands of birds coming in to roost for the night.

By 6:45 I was sitting on the front deck of the hotel waiting for the group to gather and go out for a meal. My suggestion of creating a WhatsApp group as the group did in Ireland and Sicily didn’t come to anything. I thought it was very useful for meeting up with people in our free time who were interested in doing some sight seeing together. The moon was high in the night sky and almost full and it reminded me of the night in El Curtola when Rachel was convinced the moon was about to bump into the earth! In Gozo Rachel texted me to say that now an earthquake had hit Tokyo on top of the devastation from the typhoon. She has a tour group there at the moment so she’s very busy with work.

Hmmm – I wonder what that means . . . .

Opposite Downtown Hotel is a large sports complex. So far this country doesn’t have the same feel as Sicily. It doesn’t feel Southern European. Where is everyone? In Sicily the streets were filled with people in the evenings on their nightly Passaggiata – until 3 a.m and in the daytime elderly people would sit on chairs outside their houses, directly on the streets. Where were the crazy Vespas? I wasn’t to see a single one in Malta.

At dinner I met the other 12 people in our group: 2 couples, 2 sisters, 2  men and 5 women traveling alone. Our tour guide is Maria who has a wealth of general knowledge about her country, and a wonderfully contagious interest in archaeology. Dinner was at Il Totto, on the main Square. The local speciality is rabbit, though we didn’t see a single wild one. On the menu there was grilled rabbit, rabbit bolognese, and spaghetti rabbit! I went for the chicken salad. Dinner took two and a half hours! That felt Southern European!

First dinner with our group

I was back in my room by 10 and went straight to bed – after catching the cockroach who had taken up residence in my bathroom and dumping him unceremoniously down the loo. 

View from the Capitol

Anna’s visit – part 3

The next morning we headed out after breakfast and caught the bus to Whitby. The bus soon filled with people. I thought we’d be the only ones on board. everyone else were grandparents with grandchildren – not something you’d see on a bus in the U.S.

In Whitby we explored the other side of the river, climbing up the Khyber Pass (!) to the whale bone arches. The usual view of the abbey was barely discernible in the dense mist. Then it was on to the trains back to Hebden. as we waited on the platform we heard that the next train due had been cancelled because the rails had become too hot in the direct sunshine. We wondered where the train was coming from. The next announcement was that the next train was cancelled because the track was flooded! However, all three of our trains showed up on time and we had a lovely journey back.

Anna spent the evening in Manchester catching up with her Manchester Uni friend Kez. The TV news was full of news of flooding throughout the Calderdale valley.

The next morning we walked into Todmorden along the canal. at least, we tried to. About a mile from Todmorden the tow path had been washed away by the weekend flood and the path was closed. just before we reached the town a sudden tremendous downpour soaked us through. It lasted for about 3 minutes and then stopped! Crazy weather. We had lunch at The Little Bird cafe and dried out as best we could. Unfortunately the indoor market was closed but we explored the charity stores before catching the bus back to Hebden.

Lunch at The Little Bird cafe
Flood damage in Todmorden over the weekend
Walking along the tow path

For dinner we went to Il Molino’s, a restaurant I hadn’t been to before. It’s upstairs in the original corn mill just by the famous pack horse bridge over the river. It was a lovely way to end Anna’s visit. The taxi picked her up at 6 a.m. the next morning and whisked her away to Manchester airport for her journey to New Orleans for a bachelorette party.

Dinner at Il Molino’s

Anna’s visit – Part 2

Out hotel and the blue lobster

The following morning we set off for Staithes. Anna had seen a lovely photo of this little town, almost hidden in a ravine on the coast of North Yorkshire and had suggested we visit. From that time on Staithes kept popping up all over the place for both of us. Just the week before her visit I had gone to some of the art studios that were showcased in the Open Studios weekend in Hebden Bridge and one of the first things that caught my eye in Kate Lycett’s studio was a little notebook – with her watercolour of Staithes on the cover. I asked her to sign a copy for Anna and I wrapped it in Christmas wrapping paper (!) and gave it to her as we travelled through Yorkshire on the train. The sense of the size of Yorkshire was definitely apparent on our trip. Our first train took us to Dewsbury, the next to Thornaby, the next to Whitby. It was very foggy all day. Our ride from Thornaby followed the River Esk and we stopped at many many station, just 3 or 4 minutes apart. One of the stations was for sale. Anna just loves these old buildings.

Exploring Whitby

Arriving in Whitby we spent a couple hours or so exploring the town. It was very busy with tourists, this being the second weekend of the school holidays. Even the 199 steps up to the abbey were scattered with parents with kiddies in tow, reminding me of how we used to take day and weekend trips like this almost every weekend when our children were small. We didn’t go into the abbey and there’s a high wall around it so we couldn’t see much of it, but it was founded by Hilda in 680AD.

We wandered around the graveyard perched on the cliff top and remarked on the amazing patterns of the weathered sandstone – and its various colours too. We passed the new youth hostel that I’d taken a peak into when I visited Whitby in 2016 with Judith, and then we found the original youth hostel building that Colin and I had stayed in when we hiked the Cleveland Way in 1979. Back down the steps we wandered around the harbour with its tall ships and we passed many people in steam punk outfits.Whitby is renowned for its steam punk festival because Bram Stoker used Whitby as an inspiration for Dracula. Then it was on to Staithes, a half hour journey by bus. The bus was just like the bus from Hebden to Haworth. In the dense fog the driver seemed to go way too fast!

We had booked a room at the Captain Cook Hotel, which Anna had picked out. I later found that it had originally been built was the Station Hotel and the dining room had old photos of the railway viaduct that spanned the valley and was demolished in 1960 because for much of the time trains couldn’t use it because of the high winds. We could see the stanchion on the other side of the valley. The hotel was above the old town so we had great views of the town each time we climbed the hill. This was especially beautiful at night when the orange street lights gave a warm glow to the picturesque buildings. Our room was on the third floor and it was so foggy that we could barely see the ground.

We were getting hungry by this time and so an hour after our arrival we set off the explore Staithes, passing the huge blue wire lobster! This village, often used by photographers and watecolourists consists of houses huddled together – higgledy piggledy. I read its like a set of child’s building blocks that have fallen down and scattered randomly.

There is a homogeneity that comes from the red roof tiles and there must be some ordinance that people can only use a certain colour palette for painting their houses. It was much much quieter than Whitby and it was much more to Anna’s liking. She’d read the reviews of places to eat and had selected the Cod and Lobster that’s right on the waterfront. It’s so close to the sea that it’s been washed away three times! Again, we felt so fortunate to be able to have dinner outside and not be freezing cold. From our table we watched the tide leave the little fishing boats high and dry and as darkness fell the orange street lights of the town gave the houses a lovely warm glow. The colour of the lights always reminds me of the view of Bolton from my bedroom growing up at Affetside. American street lights are white, not orange – quite different.

We left the Cod and Lobster and climbed the hill, getting back around 9:30. Our actual journey on 3 trains and a bus had taken 6 hours.

Breakfast in the dining room was from 9 til 10 since this was a Sunday so we made our plans for the day and then headed downstairs. Anna wanted to do a hike.it was still incredibly foggy, but warm, humid and rain was not in the forecast fortunately, so we decided to walk along the cliff top, past of the Cleveland Way that I’d done in 1982. For the next few miles the cliff edge was a couple of feet on our left hand side and rolling corn fields stretched into the distance on our right. The entire path was covered in butterflies too. We could see the harbour at Port Mulgrave, just a few shacks and little boats before we reached Runswick Bay. This wasn’t anywhere near as pretty as Staithes but we stopped for coffee at the Cliffemount Hotel that I’d seen mentioned online. Again we were able to sit outside in the beer garden.

We headed inland to Hinderwell because when we’d passed through this little village on the bus we’d seen several scarecrows and wanted to take a close look. It reminded me of the Flower pot festival I’d visited with Rachel in Settle in 2015. People had gone all out on these from Laurel and Hardy to Elvis. Great photo opp. We had lunch at the Badger Hounds after finding that the Runcible Spoon was closed and the only other place serving food, The Brown Cow, was only serving BBQ.

How pleasant to know Mr Lear
Whose written such volumes of stuff
Some think him ill tempered and queer
But a few think him pleasant enough

From Hinderwell we took the bus to Saltburn-by-the-Sea, a half hour journey. We’d already remarked on the high prices of the bus fares on our journey from Whitby to Staithes and this was just the same. As we were waiting for the bus we chatted to a local lady. As always, English conversations begin with the weather. she told us that the dense fog was unusual and that it had rolled in following the extreme heat last Thursday. She had been a teacher in several different countries in Africa and she made the same comments as we had done about British people sitting out in the full sun, wanting to get sunburned. She suggested where we should get off the bus in Saltburn and within minutes we found ourselves in the midst of the Saltburn food festival.

Hundreds of pop-up food and drink stands lined the streets. Bales of hay provided places for people to sit and enjoy live music. The National Health service has really fallen on hard times. They now provide bales of straw as people wait in line for an appointment in the surgery. Anna had read about the vertical tramway and we took it down the hill and then walked out along the pier. We were surprised to find that it had been ‘yarn bombed.’ Well, that’s what it’s called in Hebden Bridge. Delightful.

Around 4:30 we left Saltburn and headed back to Staithes on the bus. The seagulls were very noisy as they roosted on the cliff. We were trying to find the spot where Colin and I had taken the only photo of Staithes from when we were on ur Cleveland way hike. It wasn’t too difficult to find and it was the very same place that Kate Lycett had painted her picture from.

A picture from our Cleveland way hike in 1981!!!

Anna’s visit – Part 1

Anna had booked her trip to England in April so it had been a long time to wait for her arrival. She was to spend 8 days in England with me before flying back to San Francisco by way of a 4 day hen party in New Orleans.

A couple of days before she arrived I’d met my first Wrigleys. Let me explain. By chance someone had spotted a couple looking around the village of Heptonstall – with a New Zealand accent, by the name of Wrigley. Knowing that I had ancestors in the village named Wrigley, some of whom had emigrated to New Zealand, I’d been contacted and later that day I found myself in the company of a lady who shared the same great great great grandfather as me – James Wrigley, 1778-1846. Even better – we were in the house where he had lived! James Wrigley had been a cabinet maker in 1841 and his children and grandchildren went on to own a building company in Hebden Bridge, building about 50 of the largest buildings in town – including the one I currently live in. I was able to spend an hour with Ruth and Garth in Hebden Bridge pointing out the buildings and we spent a few minutes in my apartment too so that they could have the experience of being inside a Wrigley building.

The BBC proms are in full swing at the moment and I recorded the season. This oboeist had me in stitches!

I’d also just finished putting the final touches to photo books and my 30,000 word written journal of the trips I took in 2018. It seemed a good time to do it before I decide about any trips this winter and next spring.

I went to to Manchester airport to meet Anna just as I’ve done on the last two times she’s come to visit and we spent the afternoon getting reacquainted with my little town. Now I have a two bedroom place she was able to spread out rather than trying to sleep on the living room sofa and have her bags strewn all around.

We took a walk along the canal and through Hardcastle Crags and the next day we met with my brother-in-law and wife at the Piece Hall in Halifax. The weather was kind to us and we were able to sit on the patio for lunch at the Square Chapel, overlooking Gaol Lane where my great great grandparents, George and Charlotte Gledhill had lived.

In the evening Anna suggested we go up to Heptonstall to watch the sunset. We strolled around the hilltop village with its views over to Stoodley Pike and we wandered around the old ruined church where my gt gt gt gt grandparents are buried. Just as we were coming back onto the main street Anne and David just happened to drive past and so we met up with them and others at the Cross Inn. There aren’t many days each year warm enough to sit outside after dark and enjoy a beer.

The weather the next was forecast to be the hottest day ever recorded in England so we weren’t able to do very much in the way of exercise. Anna had visited the local gym where she could get a day pass and I was very surprised to find that it was air conditioned. Apart from the One Stop little market nothing else in the town has air conditioning. The temperature reached 97F. We took a little stroll around the shops in town and sat in the square where an opera singing was entertaining the people soaking up the sun. I was amazed that she could stand in the full sun for over an hour, singing beautifully. Just then I received a text message from someone asking if they could invite the opera singer on the square over to my At Home. I just love these crazy coincidences!

Next morning we set off on the bus to Haworth. It’s one of our favourite rides – over the hill tops, and we weren’t disappointed. We were doing some window shopping when a lady coming out out of a shop said, ” If you haven’t been in there it’s worth a visit.” So in we went to The Cabinet of Curiosities. The place had been a family business for 30 years and an amazing array of antique shop fittings has been assembled, many things from apothecary shops and museums. Next door is the Apothecary tea rooms which we ventured into for the first time. A deck at the back was a lovely place to have lunch , especially when a cloud covered the sun for a few moments.

After lunch we climbed Penistone Hill and had a good laugh at the name! Anna recognised it from an American podcast (like Todmorden!). This a true Bronte country and within 30 paces we were away from any tourists and out on the moors. Last time I came here it was with headphones from the Parsonage Museum, listening to a song cycle of Emily’s poems created by Unthanks.

We spent the afternoon preparing for a little get together later that evening.

Stone books on Penistone Hill
Older posts