Malta is small but there are so many natural sights to see that we had to make the most of each day. After our morning pastizzis (doughy goodness filled with ricotta cheese) we took our chances with the bus system, if we can handle London, Malta should be easy. And it was, the 1950s style buses sans air conditioning was simple to manage...simple and very cheap. For a little over a euro we arrived an hour later on the southern tip of the island to see the most famous attraction, the Blue Grotto. Incrediable views of the cliff awaited us as we stepped of the bus. Visitors board small colorful boats to tour caves and sail under the opening of the Grotto. We tippy toed down to the boats only to find dozens covered with tarps and a whole pack of confused tourists. It was National Lampoons Wally World, Mediterranean style. The seemingly calm rock of the sea was too much for the small boats that day and we were turned away, missing the greatest attraction.
Defeated, we tried to make the most of the day, touring the southern part of Malta. We drove through villages, admiring the beige architecture covered in colorful flags, each village flying their own colors. Still recovering from a religious festival days before, the villages were quiet and quaint, nothing like I have ever seen before. Unlike other cities, devasted by attempted takeovers and great wars, Malta's history unfolds before you. Limestone walls and medival coastal watch towers reveal the tales of WW2 bombs and unwelcomed guests. They have been influenced by everyone from the British to the Turkish, keeping pieces of each culture to create their own unique environment. We drove through the reminents, walls left unbuilt, a reminder of a time we will never understand. Ashleys grandmother, like many of our older relatives were directly affected, forced to leave their homes fearing for safety from world bullies. And just as we realized we would never have to experience situations like that, we remembered the millions of other who do and will continue to see reminders of war on their way home. Once again, we were reminded how lucky we are to live under the arms of a world bully.
Before driving back to the beach, we stopped at Ghar Lapsi, small natural pools surrounded by rocks and cliffs. Jellyfish washing up onto the rock walkways were enough to make me nervous getting in the water but I did it anways, taking my chances at a quick dip.
With a nice drive back to Selima, we were ready for more sun. On our way to sun, we stopped for lunch along the port. Malta is much cheaper than I expected, for 10 quid each we had a bottle of wine, lunch for two, and topped it off with some ice cream...ya know there is no point in trying to diet on holiday, not when there is so much to eat and drink. Warmed by the wine and the sun, we searched for a spot to soak up the last hours of sun. Maybe it was the men in speedos playing water polo but we were drawn to a natural pool...concrete walls contained 25 yards of the sea, fit with deck chairs and ladders into the ocean..we were in my new idea of heaven.
With two early night under our knickers, we were ready to see what the Maltese men had to offer...No I wasn't going to trade my Albanian for another dark handsome man but I was ready for some innocent dancing. Ashley's brother and friend Pat joined us. A strip of bars and nightclubs were the perfect starting point. We danced for hours to tunes circa 1990s and early 2000s...Everything from Genie in a bottle to Party up. That combined with a tray of 12 shots for 10 euros was a flashback to my freshmen year of college.
By 3 we were ready for some take away beer, chips and bed so we went back to her brothers hotel. We planned on cabbing it home but when opportunity arose we took it. A balcony and an empty room begged for drunk passing out. The boys hopped the balcony and opened the empty room, it took two minutes of maybe we shouldn'ts before we crawled into bed.
Defeated, we tried to make the most of the day, touring the southern part of Malta. We drove through villages, admiring the beige architecture covered in colorful flags, each village flying their own colors. Still recovering from a religious festival days before, the villages were quiet and quaint, nothing like I have ever seen before. Unlike other cities, devasted by attempted takeovers and great wars, Malta's history unfolds before you. Limestone walls and medival coastal watch towers reveal the tales of WW2 bombs and unwelcomed guests. They have been influenced by everyone from the British to the Turkish, keeping pieces of each culture to create their own unique environment. We drove through the reminents, walls left unbuilt, a reminder of a time we will never understand. Ashleys grandmother, like many of our older relatives were directly affected, forced to leave their homes fearing for safety from world bullies. And just as we realized we would never have to experience situations like that, we remembered the millions of other who do and will continue to see reminders of war on their way home. Once again, we were reminded how lucky we are to live under the arms of a world bully.
Before driving back to the beach, we stopped at Ghar Lapsi, small natural pools surrounded by rocks and cliffs. Jellyfish washing up onto the rock walkways were enough to make me nervous getting in the water but I did it anways, taking my chances at a quick dip.
With a nice drive back to Selima, we were ready for more sun. On our way to sun, we stopped for lunch along the port. Malta is much cheaper than I expected, for 10 quid each we had a bottle of wine, lunch for two, and topped it off with some ice cream...ya know there is no point in trying to diet on holiday, not when there is so much to eat and drink. Warmed by the wine and the sun, we searched for a spot to soak up the last hours of sun. Maybe it was the men in speedos playing water polo but we were drawn to a natural pool...concrete walls contained 25 yards of the sea, fit with deck chairs and ladders into the ocean..we were in my new idea of heaven.
With two early night under our knickers, we were ready to see what the Maltese men had to offer...No I wasn't going to trade my Albanian for another dark handsome man but I was ready for some innocent dancing. Ashley's brother and friend Pat joined us. A strip of bars and nightclubs were the perfect starting point. We danced for hours to tunes circa 1990s and early 2000s...Everything from Genie in a bottle to Party up. That combined with a tray of 12 shots for 10 euros was a flashback to my freshmen year of college.
By 3 we were ready for some take away beer, chips and bed so we went back to her brothers hotel. We planned on cabbing it home but when opportunity arose we took it. A balcony and an empty room begged for drunk passing out. The boys hopped the balcony and opened the empty room, it took two minutes of maybe we shouldn'ts before we crawled into bed.
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