Malta: The Character of a Great Nation Packed onto a Small Island

Part One: North Malta

The character and diversity of Malta is so massive that it’s difficult to believe you are on an island the size of the Isle of Wight. The weird and wonderful routes that buses take and the tendency of islanders to massively overestimate distances also help to artificially increase the feeling of size. Considering the nation’s tiny scale, it’s incredibly hard to describe it in only a few words, and I mean that as a great compliment.

The scale of Valletta’s majesty can rival any great European capital city, while the clubs and bars just a few miles away in St Julian’s can match the party capitals. Meanwhile, Mdina offers visitors the chance to lose themselves in history and Bugibba to the north brings them right back up to date with all the offerings of a modern holiday resort.

Where to Go in Northern Malta

Buggiba

Perched between ancient salt pans to the east and one of Malta’s many natural harbours to the west, Buggiba, or St Paul’s Bay, is arguably Malta’s leading family holiday resort. It’s a great place for eating, drinking, keeping the kids entertained and people-watching.

Special mention goes to La Sorpresa restaurant on Tourist Street, a beautiful Maltese-Italian fusion place that serves truly spectacular focaccia.

The town’s seafront square plays host to classical music and a range of other events. For those who need more than a view over the sea, there is the National Aquarium on the town’s northernmost outcrop. Most of all though, the town is a great base for exploring Malta. Halfway between Valetta and the nation’s second island of Gozo, boat trips can be had along the beautiful waterways to either from 20-25 Euro.

Gozo

To the north of Malta’s main island, Gozo is a seductive place of peace and tradition that is worth a portion

of anyone’s Maltese holiday. Get there by bus then ferry from Cirkewwa to Mgarr for those on a budget, or by boat from Bugibba, Sliema and Valetta – the more luxurious and less time-consuming option. From there, you can access most of the island by standard bus, tour bus or by rented vehicle, all of which can be got straight from the Mgarr terminal.

The island is less than 15km from end to end and is watched over by the Citadella de Victoria, a great day out in itself with a castle, prison, folklore museum and high-tech archaeology exhibit to explore. The island has a much more laid-back and traditional feel than its big sister, but there’s still plenty to explore, including some beautiful beaches and coastal walks. Food-wise, dairy products are what the island is known for – primarily its synonymous cheese, and the salad based on it. I tried one of these salads while visiting, so I can say with authority that it should be approached with care – it’s strong stuff.

For history lovers, the famous Ggantija Temples – some of the oldest monuments in the world – are a must and the Ta’Pinu basilica is a beautiful church with an unrivaled view.

Comino

It’s easy to see the historic attraction of Comino – a remote lunar landscape of an island set in the aquamarine blue of the Mediterranean between Gozo and Malta proper. For those who happened upon it for a swim in the past, it must have been abstract, tranquil and beautiful. When I visited I could see the reflection of that perfection in the renowned Blue Lagoon, but only remotely.

Today, when the only option for those who can’t afford a personal yacht is piling off tourist boats with thousands of others and weaving their way through salesmen touting a dozen different kinds of rubbish to find a square foot of precious space on the rock, it’s not such a special experience.  Blue Lagoon may be good for families with young water-babies, sun-seekers and those who like crowded beaches (?) but it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.

Mosta

In Malta, host of a crusade, location of a thousand churches and subject of a legendary World War 2 story of national “heroism and devotion”, it’s surprising how often religion and warfare go side-by-side, with one story overlapping the other. Mosta is known for both of these things: it’s 17th century church and its massive rotunda is recognised worldwide as an outstanding example of neoclassical architecture. Its catacombs meanwhile were converted into bomb shelters during the Second World War – important for the most bombed country in the world (by area). The underground tracts of darkness speak eerily of threats both ancient and modern.

St Julian’s and Paceville

The nightlife capital of Malta. The clubs to be found here run right from grungy, sticky-floored dives to elite terrace bars – there’s even the only rock club in Malta. This place more than any other shows how Malta is a little island with big aspirations. The casinos, high-class hotels and malls make up an atmosphere that would fit more in the metropolitan vastness of New York or London than in a town less than a mile from end to end.

Look out for Malta’s own mega-brand – Hugo’s – which owns everything from burger bars to casinos to hotels in the town.

What to taste in Malta

A hub of trade for millennia, Malta’s cuisine is incredibly diverse, mixing Italian, English, Arabic and dozens of other cuisines.

• Rabbit is as much of a staple in Malta as beef is in the UK, thanks mainly to the rugged, warm environment, and just like beef, it is often served beautifully in stews or as fillets.
• Pastizzis are Malta’s pasties – cheap, fast-food for workers, shoppers and other busy lunchers. They’re unique (and oily) and you can’t say you’ve tasted Malta until you’ve eaten one.
• Ice cream – Like in Italy, ice cream is an art in Malta and the results are there to taste in almost every town. Amorino, on Valletta’s main Republic Street is the best though, creating beautiful roses from the delicious flavours you choose.
• November bones – Only available for the month after Halloween, these slightly disturbing traditional pastries have a short crust with marzipan ‘marrow’ and white icing to give that delicious undead finish.
• Beef olives – Some of the most delicious olives anywhere.
• La Sorpresa’s focaccia.
• Gozitan cheese. Yes, Malta even has its own gourmet regions, and Gozo is the place for dairy products. Gozitan cheese is powerful stuff!! Somewhere between feta and parmesan, it can take the place of both and it (literally) forms the centrepiece of a Gozitan salad, together with Maltese sausage.
• Maltese sausage – I’m including this fatty sausage mainly because it’s an important Maltese food seen in the salad above. It helps you understand how Maltese knight Bosredon Ransijat felt during the Maltese blockade when he said “Apart from donkeys, mules and horses, which we continue to eat as before, we have now also eaten most of the dogs and cats as well as a good number of large rats” 

To be continued…

Terracotta Wonders

Although it is a true spectacle on its own, The Terracotta Army is just one part of what is possibly the world’s greatest mausoleum, built over a 20 sq km area and centred around a 300 metre high burial mound turned into an eternal pleasure palace built to protect and entertain emperor Qin Shi Huang in his eternal afterlife. We were already amazed by how unique each member of the huge army was at the time we visited it, but, having watched a documentary on the army recently, the distinct personality evident in each of the army’s men is truly brought home.

Hear here! The warriors’ unique ears.

Scientific studies using digitised 3D models of all of the warriors show that, so far as can be seen, no two are the same. No two heads, no two faces, even the ears are unique to the warrior. This makes what is already an amazing piece of work into a truly fascinating, almost unique, wonder of the ancient world. A vast undertaking, the scale and variety of which would be difficult to replicate even today. While all of the ancient world’s other wonder builders were focused on scale, ingenuity and distinction were important to Qin Shi Huang. All this and it was built in less than 37 years under the oversight of the greatest leader in Chinese History, the same man who first united China under his own rule and built the original great wall of China. A leader unequalled in his power.

Unfortunately there is a darker side: To making an army as huge as this Emperor Huang needed a workforce capable of inhuman levels of production. He used inhumane methods of motivation, torture and punishment to attain this.  Prisoners and conquered civilians were used as slave labour, working hours on end. Perfection was required and imperfection was met with savage punishment such as maiming, castration and even execution. If a worker failed to attain the high standards required, all of those in his work group would have to either inform on him or be tortured and possibly killed along with him.

The workers who survived this brutal regime were then slain to keep the location and structure of the mausoleum secret from those who may want to disturb Qin Shi Huang’s eternally pleasurable rest.

Phuket, we’re off!

The long and intermittent trip home starts here after a spectacularly relaxing last day in Phuket. To be fair it started last night when we flew to Bangkok, but that’s a technicality. Before we flew to Bangkok we lived it up a little by relaxing with a two hour Thai aromatheraputic oil massage, we detoxed by drinking ginger tea and we retoxed by eating KFC.

Mahlah sits down after our massage

I say we had a big shabang of a Thai massage with oils and aromas etc; I went for the full on Thai massage and Mahlah chose to have a selection of vegetables and creams, possibly salad dressings, laid on her face instead. She still got rubbed with oil but the poor dear didn’t get to enjoy any of the punches or wrestling moves that I received, she just came out glowing like a golden Buddah instead. To be fair, after paying a bit more at a swankier, more professional looking place, I came out relatively unscathed, feeling way better. I felt less like my masseuse had it in for me, except when she took hold of my left ankle and right shoulder and made a surprisingly successful attempt to bring the two together.

I have to say at this point that, although I may joke, Thai massages are a brilliant experience that must be tried by anyone travelling to the land of smiles. They are wonderful and, if you go to the right place, they can diagnose and relieve some pretty serious problems for a relatively cheap price. Just make sure you go to a place where they wear relatively modest, professional looking garments rather than mini-skirts and strappy tops  otherwise you may end up getting more than you bargained for.

Another Thai tradition we got to experience before heading north was weather that makes Britain’s look droll and predictable by comparison. At one point I was getting wet feet and sunburn at the same time.

A flight, a sleep and a dozen or so hours later we are in Bangkok getting ready to pop out to the truly massive Chatuchak Market, which sells everything from full size model animals and waffle shaped eggs to swords and replica weaponry (at least I think they’re replicas). Obviously these few exotic, and even erotic, wonders are joined by a good deal of harem pants, sarongs and tourist tat in which we intend to indulge.

Then there’s the nineteenth of October, our last full day abroad on the trip and then … home!

What do you mean you don’t have it in Orange? Buddhist monks check out golden Buddah statues and accessories.

Epic, awesome, amazing; are any of these superlatives super enough?

Where else in the world can you experience epic beauty like this? Gentle waves slap against the bows of brightly coloured Thai fishing boats anchored in the epically crafted bay in front of me before lapping against the shore a few metres away from my balcony. The balcony itself puts the colourful boats to shame with its roaring reds, iridescent greens and blazing yellows. Even this pales in comparison to a coastline where impossible limestone mountains jut suddenly up out of endlessly flat plains, where massive nine-headed dragon-gods guard beautiful, epic temples in a landscape that wouldn’t look out of place in a movie.

The beautiful bay outside of our hotel

Where the mainland clings to these odd geographic behemoths they define the coastline, but where the softer earth and stone has eroded away, the limestone cliffs remain, rising sharply out of the water as islands. This is Prachuap Kiri Khan, the lazy, relatively undiscovered seaside town in the middle of the Thai Peninsula’s famous tropical coastline; a coastline that has provided the setting for (and often stolen the show in) Hollywood hits from The Beach to The Hangover Part 2. So, without wanting to boast, (much) we have the best of both worlds, with world renowned views and culture on our doorstep and few crap sellers or other tourists to distract from it, it feels real, like Hornsea or Whitby. FYI: These are Yorkshire seaside towns which may need researching by those not from the North East of England. See also – patty butty, the Magpie, American Chip Spice (not American) and The Goth Weekend. But I digress, this place is bloody great, and we’re paying a pittance to stay and eat here.

A few expats have discovered this little slice of paradise and we enjoy their advice about what to go see along with their reassurances that we have found the best place in town, for breakfast at least.

                    Our explorations …

Aside from talking to expats and English speaking locals we have unashamedly done very little most days. We’ve explored restaurants, with good and bad results: Mashed crab including shell or postage stamp sized toasties anyone? No, obviously we’d rather have lovely curries and Thai spiced pork chops from 80p! And of course, to recover from all of these hardships we need Thai massages. I’ve tried strong, gentle and medium, judging the latter to be the best as gentle is like being stroked and strong is like being abused. Just call me Goldilocks.

Yesterday proved to be the exception to this rule. We rented bikes from the nice blokes next door who were kind enough to let us exchange a bike whose brakes didn’t work for one whose saddle didn’t; a much less dangerous, though more emasculating, issue. Then we rode around the bay that we have spent the last few days gazing out in wonder onto to a promised fishing village and a teak Buddhist temple that was described to us as ‘nice’ by an expat employing the typical English art of the understatement.

And what an understatement it was! Imagine a great Nordic longhouse, or a Game of Thrones building of the House of Stark, a massive construction made of carefully carved, beautifully crafted and highly polished teak. The building itself is magnificent but its two ten foot high guardians take the temple into realms of the terrible and fantastic that Game of Thrones viewers will be familiar with.

The great teak temple and some dogs / naga snacks

You see, before humans were widespread on earth, so the story goes, the world was inhabited and dominated by a race of godlike dragon-like creatures called Naga who were ‘persecutors of all creatures’ according to Hindu legend. The least of these creatures are said to be human sized with a cobra like appearance and a single head, but the greatest have been shown to dwarf the Hindu Gods with ‘countless’ heads.

But the greatest beings can be brought low, and the selfishness and hedonism of the Naga royal family eventually resulted in a genocidal destruction of the Naga, ended only when the royal whose foolish bet incited the destruction recanted their proud boasts and apologised with great eloquence. The few remain Naga are said to be great and powerful, but clever and stealthy. Able to take on human form. In South East Asian Buddhist tradition the new race of Naga’s came to respect the human Buddhists and their spirituality so much that they became practitioners and protectors of the religion. Hence in many a temple in South East Asia, great many-headed Nagas guard the gates and doors, using their power and wit to fend off evil-doers.

Here in Thailand, where the coming together of three world religions is embodied in the temples and their guardians, the greatest of the Nagas have nine heads, one imbued with the power of each Taoist god. So this is why, at the gates of Wat Ao Noi, Prachuap Khiri Khan’s great teak temple, stand two massive nine headed dragon beasts, tails wrapped around the temple and teeth bared to all who pass between the gigantic forms, mouths agape in awe, wonderment and … a little fear?

Note: Bottom left = nine headed naga, tiny figure under naga = monk, height: 4 monks = 1 naga, size: 2 x monks head (or your head) = 1 x naga mouth. Conclusion: Don’t mess!

Massage – The Thai word for assault

“In Thailand it’s massage, in England it’s section 47 common assault.” These were the words of my beloved fiancée yesterday after we each paid a nice Thai lady to beat the living bejesus out of us.

Mahlah kindly photographed my massage.

As far as I could see it was like a wrestling match, or simply a fight in slow motion, except we weren’t allowed to move. At one point the polite sadist who was gradually abusing me had both hands around my neck and I was wondering who my earthly belongings would go to. As if that wasn’t enough, later on she kneeled on the back of my legs for a bit while punching me in the back. Mahlah tells me that at another point, just before she got bent in half, she saw my masseuse (read ‘attacker’) with all of her weight balanced on her elbow, on my shoulder. I’m sure I’ve seen the Incredible Hulk do that move!

It is weirdly addictive in a masochistic way though.

Anyway, unlike the need for aggression that the otherwise friendly Thai’s fulfil in the form of ‘massage’, we have loved Thailand, especially the food. In fact we’ve fallen in love with the Greed, Red and Yellow curries, Pad Thais and other delightful concoctions so much that we’ve decided to learn how to make them ourselves on a one day course courtesy of Tom Yum Cooking School. Whether our efforts will ever compare to the mouth watering dishes we’ve tried here is a good question but you’re all welcome to come over and find out when we return!

Photos of Cambodia

Victims, Survivors and Teachers: Lessons Learned from Chum Mey

A heads up: This post varies in tone from our others it speaks of atrocities but also of hope, the importance of learning and of teachers.

A mechanic who wanted to help his country in its time of need, Chum Mey volunteered to teach his countrymen to repair farm machinery. In return for his generosity his wife was shot and both of his children died while he was wrongly imprisoned and tortured by the Khmer Rouge as a spy. We met him and heard his story yesterday just as you can here on his site. Needless to say we are very grateful because it is an important story despite it being hard to tell, like the stories of so many who have survived atrocities, it is suffused with a calm hope and positivity about the future.

Given his peaceful, hopeful outlook and his desire to teach, it is unfortunate that there are not more people like Chum Mey. Sadly only seven were liberated from Tuol Sleng when the Khmer Rouge were overthrown, less than 200 who were ever detained there walked free again while 20,000 men, women and children were sent to the killing fields.

As Chum Mey answered our questions it became clear that he had survived not just the prison of Tuol Sleng, but also the one built of anger and resentment in the head of one who has survived atrocities. He spoke with emotion and his words were tinged with sadness and anger as he recounted his beatings and the loss of his family. However in his words he “knew that his fellow Cambodians were peace loving people who were simply frightened, even those who tortured and killed under the Khmer Rouge.” He “Seeks no revenge” instead turning to his religion and his gift for teaching to help him ease the trauma felt by him and his country.

I respected this feeling hugely but found it difficult to understand when I read of Pol Pot living in comfort for all but the last year of his life, even being recognised as Cambodia’s official leader by the western states until his resignation. I had undergone none of the horrors that Chum Mey had, but after hearing of men tortured for hours, women raped and children’s heads broken open against trees I felt bile rise as I read of the lack of justice – how could there be justice for crimes so vile? Should we hang these old despots by the arms until they pass out from pain, water-board them to get a confession, have them kneel over a pit of their dead relatives in preparation for their own painful death? Of course not. Chum Mey and his fellow Cambodians showed me that it is not foreign invasions or even high profile courts who restore righteousness but teachers and of course those who learn from them. I began to type what I had learned here but I do not want to state the obvious or preach. I do want to say that I no longer feel uncomfortable or perverse about visiting places where great wrongs have been done. Everyone who can should, because when I heard the words of Chum Mey and saw the places where his countrymen had died, I became a better student of peace and a more knowledgeable opponent of war for what its worth, and a few more of those must be a good thing?

Chum Mey represents the Chummey Foundation with the aim of teaching people the lessons he has learned from his experience. He has also written a widely published book called Survivor.

Australia through a traveller’s eyes, ears and mouth

The sun has risen on our last full day in Australia to find us glad of our many new experiences and eager for more in South East Asia. Although Oz hasn’t been the most different culture we have visited, after all they were all Brits till not too long ago, it has exposed us to a lot of new sights, sounds and flavours for which we are grateful:

First, and probably foremost, there is the local wildlife, rightly considered some of the greatest and most unique in the world today. We’ve walked open mouthed through lush Gondwanaland rainforests growing since before Oz split from Africa. We’ve gotten surprisingly close to Kangaroos, Koalas, Wallabies and Possums not to mention the ever present, ever scrounging wild Turkeys. And lets not forget the sea-life; the whales we saw breaching at Coff’s harbour, the dolphins that I swam with or, more accurately, swam away from fast after mistaking the playful fellas for sharks.

Some of the more unique wildlife witnessed on our trip … and a kangaroo

New sounds are everywhere too. Whether they be Kookaburras chuckling in the morning sun, or utes (weird Aussie pickup trucks with loads of power) roaring and doing very little else they’re all new to me. We had our first visit to the opera within one of Australia’s greatest buildings; the great Sydney Opera house, a sight for sore eyes in itself where we enjoyed wine and snacks overlooking the famous harbour and its bridge. Opera isn’t our cup of tea, whether Aussie or otherwise though but one Australian sound that could teach Britain a thing or two is the radio: An ever-present accompaniment on a road trip like ours, the stations here effortlessly mix classics from years gone by with modern tunes from the top of the charts and the bottom of the pile. This compares to modern UK stations which blurt out the same 20 songs from a narrow trench of the last month’s ‘chart’ music all day long, come on Pommies!

Being a gastronome or a greedy gnome depending on your point of view, the flavours of Oz were always going to excite me. In the end it surprised me as well. The Australian love of the Avocado for example was unexpectedly lovely; salmon and Avocado on toast and BLATs (BLTs with avocado) are both yummy. Being a coffee lover the quantity, quality and variety of coffee on offer was eye-widening, sometimes literally thanks to caffeine. Mugachino anyone? How about a Viennese? Dirty Chai? Filthy Chai? … Don’t ask. Anyway there is also a variety of muesli and granola unrivalled anywhere else in the world as well as things done with sweet potatoes that haven’t been done anywhere else in the world. Oh and the Eggs Benedict! Did I mention that they call Peppers Capsicums?

So if you think that Aussie tucker consists of tinnies, pies and ‘shrimps on the barbie” then you are wrong. Here’s to the food wizards of Oz as well as their music makers their furry movers and their feather shakers.

Chinese Language tips

Hello – Ni Hau “Nee How”

Thank You … very much – Shay Shay … nee

Yes – Hai “Hi”

No / Don’t have any – Mayo

Sorry – Dui bu qi “Dui boo chi”

Tea – Cha

I want that – Wa yow chagga

Too expensive – Thai guilla

I love you – Woaynee

I don’t understand – Wo timbu dong “Woah timber dong”

Meat – Jo

North – Bei “By”

Road – Lu

Street – Jie

Sealife’s scary in Port Macquarie – Warning: More highly realistic sharky imagery and tales contained in post

Does anyone remember this shark encounter in Fiji?

Well that’s nothing compared to the terrifying tale I have to tell you. It was a lovely warm day in Port Macquarie on the New South Wales coast and I was glad to be back on a board catching some waves. The surf was short and heavy, which in non surf terms that it felt like being stomped on by a giant and was hard to ride. Anyway I was still enjoying myself in the water when suddenly ‘what’s that grey thing further out in the water?’ I wondered. It was hard to get a good line of site but … it was sort of pointy. Up to that point I had been trying to push the shark warning signs to the back of my head but they suddenly came careering to to fore, I had to get out of the water now!

This realisation came quickly but I was still pointing out toward the sea … and the shark. The quickest turn around in history felt like it took a century as I pictured jaws approaching fancying a bit of Yorkshire pudding for lunch and I began the long paddle back to shore. I’ve never paddled faster or strained my arms harder than in that 25 metre swim. I’m quite a good swimmer but, again, it felt like ages were passing as I swam to shore, ages in which my toothy friend could be getting closer to my feet. It was truly, vividly horrifying as my spectacular picture shows (below), especially when a wave threatened to dislodge me from my board.

When I did eventually make it to shore the relief was amazing, I still had all my limbs. I found a lady sitting nearby who had the look of a knowledgeable local and told her my terrible tale, asking her if sharks were often seen on the beach and imagining the lifeguards clearing the local coasts.

“No, we don’t get many sharks, but we have had a lot of dolphins recently” she said “I’ve been photographing them, that’s what just popped up near you. They were swimming about near where you were surfing so I’m not surprised you saw one. They’re much more bouncy and graceful than sharks. Dolphins go up and down whereas sharks go straight through the water.”

After some reassurance from the woman that my life wasn’t in danger (phew) and a touch base with Mahlah I went back in the sea assured that I’d be safe from sharks, though the heavy waves were a different matter.

Sharky experiences aside Port Macquarie was a great place, the surf was difficult to handle at Flynn’s beach but refreshing, Mahlah loved the Koala trail, which is a lot like the toads in Hull, but with cute little Koalas. She now owns a colouring book with each Koala on the trail in it and is thinking of recommending something similar to Hull City Council. We both saw dolphins out of their disguises playing around in the harbour and enjoyed two lovely portions of fish and chips for just a fiver! boom!

We’ve now tripped further north to Coff’s Harbour and more lovely beaches. Don’t worry, my close encounter with the terrible dolphin hasn’t scared me out of the water.