England, Ireland, Italy, France, Sweden, Canada, Bahamas, Holland, and now Malta. I am on my way to 30 countries before I turn 30. It's the only thing on my bucket list, I don't really plan on dying before 30 but I can't plan that far ahead so one thing on the list is as far as I got.
I knew nothing about Malta beyond I needed a bikini, a bikini my body wasn't really ready for but if it was anything like the Jersey shore, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be the worst on on the beach. But then again, I am in Europe, Snookies don't run around in Europe. All it took was two topless sets of tits and a couple dental floss thongs and I was regretting that second pastizzi of the day. Proper European women especially dark and exotic ones, make you wish you had taken Suzanne Sommers' up on her thighmaster. But I didn't and any insecurities about my less than hard body vanished with a quick look at the clear blue water crashing around the cliffs.
With a grandmother straight off the boat from Malta, Ashley and her family planned a trip back. I couldn't resist the offer to join them for a few days. A mere 160 pounds bought me a 5 day excursion to the Malta, Camino, and Gozo. We woke up, bikini clad to a sunny breeze. Ashley's mother, friend, brother and his friend headed off to St. Julian's beach. A small but beautiful beach, calm enough to spend the day floating on a blow up turtle and yellow raft. Sunburnt and exhausted from the sun (6 months in London and we forget what sunscreen and warm weather do) we got ready to spend the night in Mdina. A walled medival town, seemingly unaware of the dirt, skyscappers, and crowds that fill the rest of Europe. Wine and the Mediterranean dinner was only topped by the orange sun setting behind us. We walked through the old streets to a lit cathedral before heading home for the evening. And unlike any night since I've left home, I was content with crawling into bed before 11.
I knew nothing about Malta beyond I needed a bikini, a bikini my body wasn't really ready for but if it was anything like the Jersey shore, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be the worst on on the beach. But then again, I am in Europe, Snookies don't run around in Europe. All it took was two topless sets of tits and a couple dental floss thongs and I was regretting that second pastizzi of the day. Proper European women especially dark and exotic ones, make you wish you had taken Suzanne Sommers' up on her thighmaster. But I didn't and any insecurities about my less than hard body vanished with a quick look at the clear blue water crashing around the cliffs.
With a grandmother straight off the boat from Malta, Ashley and her family planned a trip back. I couldn't resist the offer to join them for a few days. A mere 160 pounds bought me a 5 day excursion to the Malta, Camino, and Gozo. We woke up, bikini clad to a sunny breeze. Ashley's mother, friend, brother and his friend headed off to St. Julian's beach. A small but beautiful beach, calm enough to spend the day floating on a blow up turtle and yellow raft. Sunburnt and exhausted from the sun (6 months in London and we forget what sunscreen and warm weather do) we got ready to spend the night in Mdina. A walled medival town, seemingly unaware of the dirt, skyscappers, and crowds that fill the rest of Europe. Wine and the Mediterranean dinner was only topped by the orange sun setting behind us. We walked through the old streets to a lit cathedral before heading home for the evening. And unlike any night since I've left home, I was content with crawling into bed before 11.
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