Land of rabbits, rifles and rocks

We stayed with Martin, Sophie and Moritz in London (thank you) for a couple of days and snuck out early on 9 November to catch a flight from Gatwick. We called Jamie from the airport for his birthday and it was great speaking with him, but it reminded me of how much I miss hanging with him in Sydney.

The flight was good but the in-flight movie was cut short due to our early arrival. We dropped into the diminutive island nation of Malta in the early evening. Like many Mediterranean islands the land was barren, but the buildings were golden against the sun. We were greeted by the last rays of warmth and were happy to have escaped the chill of London.

Our hotel apartment was basic and not particularly clean but we had each other, which is all we ever need. On the up-side, there was a gym, which we DID end up using, a mini-market, a bar and two pools. We used the indoor pool but did not discover the roof-top pool until 5 minutes before leaving for the airport at the end of our stay, which was a shame. The roof-top pool went up to the edge of the building, allowing you to look over the town of Bugibba and across the sea to the island of Gozo (imagine: cocktail in hand at sunset).




The first week was a little wet and windy, but the last couple of days were bright and almost warm enough to take a dip in the sea! I stripped down to my boxer shorts and stood at the edge of the blue lagoon on Comino, I could have dived into the turquoise waters, but chose not to – it had nothing to do with the effects of cold water, Weisie. Instead, we sunbathed from the ramparts of St Mary’s tower (built in 1618 by the Knights of St John). You can see the white sands of the blue lagoon in the photo below.




We would travel around the islands using the antiquated public transport system, which worked very well. You can see an example of a bus on Gozo below. One day we were being jolted around, hanging on for dear life, when one of the wooden seats collapsed under the weight of a large tourist. In fact, without wanting to sound ageist, or weightist, we were the only tourists in the whole country under the age of 60 and/or with one chin.




A highlight of the trip was our day at the marine park (the stars of which were bought from a bankrupt Soviet park). During the performance, I answered a question correctly (Q/ why do sea lions have nails? A/ to scratch themselves), and was invited on stage to throw a hoop for a sea lion to catch, which it dropped. I then had to kneel down as it kissed me fair on the lips (after which it promptly went to the side of the pool and washed its mouth out). For the second half of the show, Weisie was chosen from the crowd (actually, she was the only other person in the audience) and lived out her life-long dream of kissing a dolphin!




The people of Malta were very friendly and it would seem that everyone had a relative in Victoria, Australia. In fact, there are more people living outside of Malta than there are living in it. Another fact: there are more Maltese people living in Melbourne than there are in Valletta (the capital). With a population of 400,000 and around 400 churches, there is room for everyone on Sundays. Malta has a rich history, having been occupied at various times by Phoenicians, Romans, Arabs, Normans, the Knights of St John, the French, and the British (among others). As a result, many place names are Arabic, the people bare a resemblance to those in Southern Italy (many have blue eyes), and most menus include a full English breakfast, pizza, pasta, rabbit and horse. The fishing boats are beautifully colourful and reminiscent of Venetian gondolas, but with the enigmatic “Eye of Osiris” painted on the bow.




We did try the local delicacy, a scrumptious roasted rabbit, and drank plenty of local wine, which was the best cheap wine I have ever had (think $15-20 AUD per bottle for $4). However, a close inspection of the label revealed that the grapes were mostly from nearby Sicily, which should have been obvious given that there is very little in the way of flora on the islands, or fauna for that matter. Actually, there are no large wild animals and even the tiniest bird ends up exploding in a puff of feathers at the end of a rifle. The report of gun fire rang out from stone hides everywhere we went on the islands and was an effective disincentive off-piste exploration.

Another highlight was the day we hired a fisherman and his boat to take us out on the west coast of Gozo. We motored around the cliffs to the “azure window”, a natural formation that resembles a large window, funnily enough, and is somewhat – azure. You can see (below) the tiny crack in the cliff that we shot through from the in-land sea and into two metre swells. Quite a ride. The expression on Weisie’s face is what you might call “thrilled” (read: tres scared). The photo was taken just after she had just finished stating, colourfully, “Ben, if we capsize, I am holding on to you all the way to the bottom”, or words to that effect.




One day we took a jet cat to Sicily, about 90 minutes north of Malta. It was what you might call a barf-fest, with Weisie and I being nearly the only people on the vessel not to re-examine breakfast in the bottom of a waxed paper bag. It was a challenging ride owing to the storm that passed the previous day. Sicily, however, was worth recovering for. The land was much greener, and covered in prickly pears, almond trees, vineyards, olive groves and eucalyptus trees (apparently favoured for their long roots in the moister parts of the island). We took a long coach ride to Mt Etna, fuelled with Sicilian almonds and figs, the best we have ever tasted. We had also brought a neglected bag of peanuts from Malta with us, which bore an amusing sales pitch: “Don’t take drugs, eat nuts”. Seriously.

Mt Etna most recently erupted spectacularly in 2001. The road up the south side of the mountain was built on the 1983 larva flow. We passed an abandoned hotel, and some homes that were partially covered with solidified larva. Strangely, the locals just keep on building closer and closer to the mountain. I suppose the land is cheap but insurance would be hard to come by. Mt Etna began erupting again in September 2004, fortunately on the north side. We inspected the 2001 crater just as cloud fell down around us… it was eerie and we both felt a little nervous, particularly as we had watched “Dante’s Peak” a week earlier whilst staying with Martin in London. You can see Weisie peering into a crater in the photo below.




I have talked about rabbits and rifles. Now my favourite part, rocks. But, before proceeding, I have to recount the following conversation from a recent dinner in London:

Martin: “What is a wok?”
Weisie: “Somfink you frow at a wabbit when you don’t have wiffle.”

I have wanted to visit this part of the world for a long time. I recall buying a geographica at Uni and reading the following: “Malta and Gozo have the oldest freestanding stone structures in the world”.

The “stone structures” are temples, monoliths and stone circles (the latter a bit of a misnomer as they are nothing like those on the Continent or the UK). Some were gigantic (giving weight to early theories that they were built by giants) with stones weighing between up to 20 tonnes, whilst most were nothing more than rubble betraying little more than an idea of the ground plan. Later intrusive use, vandalism, and poorly executed restoration make it even harder to understand these stones.

Little is actually known about the “temple builders”. Archaeologists generally agree that the temples were built between 5,600 and 4,500 years ago. The builders had a penchant for obese (female) figurines and the odd phallus, and they tended to favour a temple orientation approximately in the direction of the winter solstice. All of this makes for some fantastic theorising. We were very lucky to have almost exclusive access to every site given that the tourist season was drawing to an end.




We also inspected a few caves, one with fossils from pygmy elephants and other interesting animals from before the end of the last ice age when Sicily and Malta were joined by a land bridge. The Hal Saflieni Hypogeum (an underground network of chambers, possibly created by the temple builders) is also worth a mention for its incredible representation of what the above ground temples may have looked like, and its original rock paintings of organic-looking spirals and pentagrams (anyone want to comment on why they created so many mother goddess figurines and painted pentacles?).

And no trip to Malta can be made without an examination of the curious “cart ruts”, apparently worn into the limestone by repeated use of carts by a race of Bronze Age people that occupied Malta sometime after the mysterious disappearance of the temple builders. The ruts are all over the island (Weisie posed in front of most of them for perspective) and in some places run off the edge of cliffs and reappear on the other side of a bay. I have seen photos of underwater ruts (and read about submerged temples), but did not see any personally. From what I did see, I can say that the ruts are truly baffling and that even the most authoritative archaeologists cannot fully explain them. Please note that Erich von Däniken is neither an archaeologist nor authoritative on any point.




We left Malta thoroughly satisfied. A week in London was a great way to finish this little jaunt, allowing us to catch up with quite a few friends. Sadly, we had to say goodbye to some as well. Paul, having finished his stint in the UK left last night, and Karen is retreating to the warmth of Canberra for a few months. We look forward to seeing them both again soon. Thanks also to Croz and Sara for putting us up again!




The above photo of Luke, Weisie, Paul and I was taken after spending a day flying a kite in the rain on the heath.