Malta or Cuba?

The photo is not Malta but Cuba! What gives the same feel is the age of the buses (and cars in Cuba) and the abundance of churches. But I'm now back in Malta and settling into my flat in Valletta. I don't have internet access at home yet so this is by way of a promise to restart writing on my blog as soon as I get set up.

Sydney and Illawara

The weekend after I returned to Australia, I flew down to Sydney with my choir.  We met up with Union choirs from around Australia, sang together all day on Saturday at Redfern Community centre and gave a concert on Saturday night at Marickville Portuguese club.  It was a great weekend, we sang our hearts out and had a meeting on Sunday morning about our planned trip to Cuba in November.

I was billetted in Glebe with another choir member and we were really looked after by our hosts, one of whom is a member of Sydney Trade Union choir - many thanks!  Glebe is a great place to live - it is one of the few places in Australia where you can walk each day to get your fresh vegetables and bread - the kind of village atmosphere that is drawing me back to Malta. My cousin Pete lives just round the corner from our billet so I was able to walk round and check out the renovations he is undertaking to his terrace house that has great views over the centre of Sydney.

After the meeting on Sunday, I jumped on a train and went down to Dapto to visit my aunt and uncle who live near Shell Harbour.  We have a thunderstorm coming up so will post and add later.

I'm now camping out in my house in Thorneside and I'm so pleased that my new wireless connection just seems to work everywhere!  I'll finish the story of my trip to Illawara.  The photo that heads the post was taken outside the Dapto railway station where I had arranged for my uncle to pick me up when I got off the train.  But the meeting did not go smoothly!  The trip down from Sydney passes through some lovely country and I always enjoy it.  I phoned as we were leaving Sydney to let my aunt know what train I was on and settled in to enjoy the ride. We passed the oldest National park in Australia, came down from the heavily wooded mountains with lovely glimpses of the villages nestled along the coastline and when we were travelling along the flat, there was an announcement saying that the next stop would be Dapto.  I got up and took my small case to wait at the door.  The train stopped and I grappled with the door which seemed to be reluctant to open.  When it did open, I leapt out and watched the train pull away.  The station seemed very small.  When I trundled my little case outside, I realised it was the wrong station - Kembla Grange where the train only stops when there are races on at the track!  I was bushed!  I phoned my aunt but just got the answering machine.  Maybe I can walk, I thought.  There was a junk yard across the road and I spotted two men talking so I trundled my trolley over to ask which way to go.

"Too far to walk, mate," said one.

"Wait while I talk to the boss and I'll give you a lift," said the other.  I dismissed the little flashes of Wolfe Creek, the horror movie, and waited.  After a while, we got into an old, rather grubby car and set off.  The man was an unemployed truck driver who had been in Australia for about 35 years from one of the middle European countries - the same length of time as me.  He talked non-stop about finding work and how it was easy for him because he was active in looking in the right places.  When we got to Dapto, I offered to give him some money for the fuel but he wouldn't take it saying that he hoped one day someone would do the same for him.

There was no sign of my uncle outside the somewhat bigger Dapto train station, so I phoned and left another message on the answering machine.  After another half hour during which I inspected the war memorial and advised a hurrying young woman that the Sydney trains seemed to be running without any necessity to catch buses because of track work, I started to wonder about my uncle.  I phoned again.  This time I managed to catch him as he got back from his first trip to pick me up from a train that had already thrown me out at an unscheduled stop.

"Where are you?  Stay where you are and I'll be there."    His Scottish tones had never sounded so sweet!

The rest of my stay was completely stress-free.  We had a family dinner to celebrate my uncle's 79th birthday,  visited the Illawara fly, an excellent tree top walk at the top of the mountain range with stunning views out to the coast,walked in Black Butt forest in the mornings, had meals with my cousins and with my aunt and uncle's friends and visited a pet shop owned by a man from Malta who was happy to talk about his beloved island for an hour.  When the time came to fly back to Brisbane, my uncle drove me all the way to Sydney airport - perhaps he no longer trusted my ability to manage the train!

I really enjoyed the few days I had with my family in Illawara and hope that I can continue to spend time with them when I move to Malta.

Australia again

I've been back in Queensland for three weeks and have neglected the blog because I didn't have internet access at the place I'm staying in Mt Cotton.  But I want to keep the blog going even if I post less frequently so this is by way of promising an update very soon.  The photo was taken from the Illawara Fly, a treetop walk in the range behind my aunt and uncle's place at Shell Harbour.

Singapore

This is the new Orchid Road centre in Singapore.  My hotel is round the corner in Scotts Road.  This area is all shopping centres and hotels but that's fine for me at the moment because I'm into recovery mode.  

On the seven hour overnight flight from Dubai I passed out in the aisle and when I came round a large Russian woman was yelling at me and fighting the Singapore airlines cabin staff over where to put the blood pressure cuff on my limp wrist.  The combination of Dubai heat, Egypt belly and cabin pressure had got to me.  The up side was that I scored a row of seats to lie down for the rest of the trip.

So I spent yesterday in my hotel room sorting myself out although I did manage to cross the road to a shopping centre and have a manicure and pedicure.  Today I've ventured further afield and ordered myself two silk suits to be made up for me to pick up tomorrow afternoon before I fly out.  I've always wanted to do that in Singapore!  I also had a full body lymphatic massage and that made me feel great!

The other thing I did today was walk down to the Botanic gardens.  It's a lovely area at one end of Orchard Road and it has won several International awards as a great urban jungle.  I spent a few hours wandering through the ginger garden, the rainforest, and beside the lakes.

Tomorrow I'll go and get my hair cut after my late check out and before picking up my tailoring and hope that the flight to Brisbane will be gentle on me.

Dubai

Just to touch base and promise later posts on my trip to Oman - Muscat and Salalah - as well as something about Dubai.  I'm back in Dubai arriving late last night and am catching up on internet stuff before my flight to Singapore this afternoon.  I'll edit my previous post with the last bit about Mt Sinai.  I've put up a photo of Rameses here taken in Luxor because my guide here in Dubai pointed with pride at the Raffles hotel (same chain as the famous Raffles in Singapore where I am heading next) which is built like a pyramid with massive Rameses statues at the entrance.  Dubai is like a collection point for all the icons of the world!

Mt Sinai

Yesterday I watched the dawn from the top of Mt Sinai and today I am writing this in Cairo International airport on my way to Zurich for an overnight stop before carrying on to Dubai and Oman.  Life is full of miracles!

At first I misunderstood the guide's briefing about my trip to the mountain and I waited in the hotel lobby at 10.00 am rather than 10.00 pm.  Once I'd worked that out, I spent the day trying to get as much rest as I could because it seemed I would be climbing a mountain all night!  When the minivan arrived for me, the first thing they explained was how to put the seats down so I could rest!  So I dozed most of the two and a half hour trip.

I think they've just called my flight so I'll finish when I can.  

Just a move from one waiting area to another!  But this one is much quieter and I still have wireless!

So I arrived at a carpark after midnight.  There was a bus with many tourists sitting inside, several minivans, Bedouin men hanging around the inevitable street market.  I got out and Bishay my guide directed me to the toilet saying it would be 2 Egyptian pounds.  I'm off again - boarding this time.

So now I'm in Dubai where I have wireless access in my room.  I'll write about Dubai and the gentle rain in Zurich in my next post, but for now I need to finish off the story of Mt Sinai.

The guide who was to lead me up the mountain arrived and Bishay handed me a torch and pointed me in the right direction.  The mountain guide asked me if I wanted a camel, but I said no, I wanted to walk if it wasn't too difficult.  We set off at a cracking pace and I had to concentrate on my feet in the little circle of light from the torch to make sure I didn't stumble on the uneven path.  Every so often I would hear strange grunts and a camel would be lead past on silent feet.  Each time, the camel was offered.  There didn't seem to be anyone else on the mountain at this time of the morning and when we stopped at the little rest shops on the way, there was no-one apart from the man behind the tea counter.  By the second stop, a camel driver who was more persuasive than the others sold me his camel by saying I had only come a quarter of the way and things got very steep at the top.

I have never been on a camel before, but my training at getting on my brother-in-law's motor bike in California stood me in good stead.  The rhythm made it a bit more uncomfortable and there was nowhere to rest your feet, but once I'd got the hang of it I was able to look up at the stars and the eerie mountains round about.  It was great not to have to stare down at my feet.  The camel driver and my mountain guide walked ahead chatting quietly and I drank in the craggy mountains that occasionally glowed white like smoke.  I didn't think too much about the possibility of the camel stepping over the edge or crushing my leg against the rocks on the other side.

We arrived at the top camel station and the guide explained that it got too difficult for the camel from here on as it was continuous steps for about 40 minutes.  The camel did the classic kneel and I got off stiffly.  We set off and the camel driver was right!  We were also quite high up now too so I told myself that it was the thin air that was making me breathe so heavily.  We stopped regularly and eventually we made it to a hut that was near the summit.  Here we went in and I accepted the offer of tea.  There were big piles of blankets all down one side and the usual carpet-covered benches all round.  My guide promptly settled in a corner and went to sleep so I figured that I should do the same but I refused their offer of a blanket and got out my jacket and bedouin scarf.  After dozing for a while, the hut started filling up with people so I had to sit up and there was a constant sales patter for blankets and hot drinks.  

The tiredness made me impatient with the hordes of Russian tourists who were piling in and who have a different way of dealing with close proximity than I do.  My guide continued to sleep on under his blanket so I got up and went outside.  The sky was beginning to pale and there was a constant stream of people heading on up the path.  Just as I was starting to feel anxious, my guide appeared and said "We go?"

I thought it was just a few more steps but it turned out to be quite a bit further and the mountain was filling up with people.  My guide found us a spot just before the summit and pointed towards the slightly reddening horizon.  I found myself a seat on a ledge and pulled my jacket collar up against the cold.  The guide disappeared and I settled down to watch the dawn.  Or so I thought.  A Russian woman came and sat on the rock in front of me and before I knew it I was jammed in between a whole tribe of tourists who proceeded to get out their breakfast and scatter paper and bread crusts all over Mt Sinai.  On a different mountain, it would have become the story of the feeding of the five thousand!

I sat there bristling and almost missed the first red curve of the sun as it came up over the craggy mountain tops.  People clapped and there was a lot of noise!  No self-focussed communing with nature on this mountain top!

Coming down, I was again offered camels but was determined to walk now that it was downhill and in daylight.  It was a good decision because the landscape is dramatic and I felt good striding out now that I could see where my feet were treading.  The thousands who were on the summit got spread out on the zig-zag path and it didn't feel like a mall on late night shopping.

Towards the bottom where St Catherine's  monastery blends into the red-brown mountains, there were occasional small children selling quartz thunder eggs and I got conned into paying 5 Egyptian pounds for a small, inferior quality egg for my uncle in Wollengong who is a prospector.  The young man didn't have change so we eventually came up with a complicated arrangement whereby I would take the egg and give the money to my guide later who would then bring it to the seller.  I figured that it was only two and a half pees!

The monastery is fascinating in its own right.  Reputed to be the oldest monastery in the world.  I have to go as my pick up is here to take me to the airport to fly to Muscat.

Finishing in Dubai after my trip to Oman.  The Monastery at the base of Mt Sinai has a large blackberry bush reputed to be the burning bush as seen by Moses.  It also has St Catherine's knuckle bone and a room full of the skulls of ancient monks.  When I got to that bit there were two Americans in front taking photos through the bars and taking so long that an enormous queue built up behind me so I glanced in and left.  Somehow relics don't work for me.  But the monastery is interesting and adds to a picture of the roots of Christianity in the same soil as Islam.

Felucca

The photo is of Ali Khan's tomb taken through the rigging of our felucca at Aswan.   The guide woke me up at 12.30 the night before to tell me to put my clock forward (I had already done it) and to get the 10.15 ferry from the hotel and he would meet me at 10.30 to take me on our felucca ride.  When I got on the ferry in good time, a young couple already on board looked familiar.  It turned out that Marcelle and Jez were also from Malta and were going on the same trip with me.  

The felucca we went on was one of the smaller, older boats and it was great to watch how the young man handled it.  At first there wasn't much wind, but once we cut across the river, we were heading down with the current and the wind behind so we went at quite a clip.  We passed the botanic gardens set up by Lord Kitchener and Elephantine Island where they used to have camel and elephant markets.  It was magic.  Lots of other feluccas to watch and people enjoying the Nile river.  Some people were swimming and I wondered about the increase in the snail-borne disease my brother had told me had increased in prevalence since the building of the high dam.

We rounded an island a little upstream from the hotel we had stayed at and then the boatman put the centre board down as we started to tack up river against the current.  The wind had come up nicely so it was still easy sailing.  We passed the Old Cataract hotel where Agatha Christie had stayed when she was writing Death on the Nile.

The boatman got out his cloth and spread out his necklaces and trinkets.  I didn't really want to buy anything but admired the way he kept sailing so competently whilst he was doing it, so I got a little necklace for 10 Egyptian pounds.  When we got back to the jetty, he deftly sorted the sail and guided the boat back between the other feluccas to a good spot to scramble off across other boats.  As I got up to leave, another 20 pounds fell out of my pocket so I decided that the god of the Nile was telling me the boatman deserved a tip and I tucked it under his cloth.  I love how the river is such a part of daily life here.

Sharm el Sheik

A few days ago, somewhere on the Nile, I reached that point in traveling where I loose track of what's happening and everything blurs together into the immediate.  It happened in Libya and in Ireland.  It happens when I am continuously moving rather than based in one place.  I will have to settle to complete writing up the story of the trip from Aswan to Luxor and then to here in Sinai.

I don't much like Sharm el Sheik.  It has no reason for being, apart from the throngs of tourists who crowd the lounges on the beach or stroll in their bikinis through the restaurants and cafes that line the esplanade.  But the Red Sea remains and the stunning mountains rise out of the desert all around.  

The first day here, I went snorkeling.  There was a misunderstanding about time, but I got picked up as arranged and the only other person in the minibus was a charming young woman from Tunisia who was working at the embassy in Malta.  So I wasn't prepared for the sheer numbers of people who were lining the jetties to get onto the boats taking us to the National Park.  Fortunately we had a smaller boat so there was only about 20 people with us but we still had to shuffle in queues to board our cruiser. 

All the boats headed out in the same direction and our guide explained that we would have three stops for snorkeling - two in the  National Park area and one in the bay on the way back.  The scenery of mountains and desert running down to the sea is stunning.  The photo is of our third stop where there was also two submarines taking tourists along the edge of the reef.

But the first two stops made it worthwhile.   There were one or two other boats anchored up when we arrived at our first spot.  Our guide had prepared us as best he could on the trip out but there were still several people who had never snorkeled before.  I was one of the first in and turned in time to see my Tunisian traveling companion loose her mask as she jumped in.  The guide was busy helping others to stop hyper-ventilating so I dived down and saved the mask just as it was sinking below the level of my ear drum tolerance!  I remembered the excitement of diving down to touch bottom in the middle of St Georges bay in Malta when I was a child.

Unlike the Great Barrier reef, the Red Sea reefs are close to shore so we were able to swim easily along the edge of the reef and then go ashore on the sandy beach to rest.  The guide worked very hard to keep us together as he was rightly concerned about loosing some of us. 

There were very different levels of ability in the group and also several other groups swimming on the same reef and crossing our path from time to time.  But we saw an eagle ray almost straight away and once we had found the edge of the reef, we were able to work our way along.  At first I thought it was similar to the Australian reef and it is, but it differs in the quantity and colour of the fish which left me quiet with the beauty of it. 

The second reef was even more stunning.  It was in more shallow water than the first and the shoals of sparkling fish drifted around massive purple corals whilst pairs of angel fish hid in holes and crevasses.  I went willingly into this other world, only vaguely keeping one ear open for the whistle of our guide to keep us together.  By the time it was time to go back to the boat, we had drifted some way away and several other boats and groups had arrived.  The woman from Tunisia was tired and the guide had to help her on the swim back.  As we swam across, yet another boat arrived and kept sounding his horn because he wanted to cut across where we were swimming.  There is no doubt there is an accident waiting to happen around this magnificent reef, but fortunately it didn't happen that day.

I didn't go in for the third dive because surprisingly I was cold and we had just eaten our excellent lunch.  The site looked even more exploited than the first two that were protected by National Park status.  But I feel very glad that I have been able to see some of the Red Sea reef before we loose it to global warming or over exploitation.  Tonight I go to St Catherine's monastery and climb Mt Sinai to see the dawn.

Hotel garden

I am so glad I have today free to explore this magic place.  Is it OK to indulge this kind of luxurious enjoyment from time to time?  At breakfast, I look out on the feluccas sailing lazily up the Nile.  I had the huge swimming pool to myself.  And when I went for an exploratory walk towards one end of the island, a delightful old man who reminded me strongly of the Haitian men who used to find their way to Bahamas when I worked there invited me for a tour of the hotel garden.  He showed me with pride the peas and onions and strawberries and I sampled the peas and strawberries.  Mangos and grapes are just starting to fruit.  As we went round I accumulated a little posy of basil, mint, roses, eau-de-cologne.

At the end of the garden, we came out on a basalt outcrop where I took the photo that heads the post.  There were lots of birds - small finches, egrets and a fan-tailed bird that I keep wanting to call a rufus something.  I have to look it up in my bird book when I get back to Australia.  Now in the heat of the day, I've set myself up in the lobby where there is free wireless.  In a moment I'll go and have another swim.

Tomorrow we go on a felucca trip and a tour somewhere but for now I am being indulgent!

Aswan

The journey to the airport yesterday evening was easy if I concentrated on what the guide was saying rather than on the scary roads!  We passed by a massive mosque and citadel which is an exact replica of another mosque somewhere.  Mosque building is quite complex and although they may all look the same, each country has it's own distinctive details.

At the airport, I was handed back down the line to the tall man who had met me off the plane from Malta.  He hurried me through procedures and left me with my boarding card at a security gate.  The domestic terminal in Cairo is as chaotic as it was when I flew up to Luxor last year.  I had plenty of time before the flight to Aswan and decided to finish my water in the outer hall before going through security.  Things got more and more crowded so I figured it was time to go through but when I had put my things through the scanner, the guard spotted my boarding card and told me to wait for another hour outside!  He reversed the machine so I could get back my gear.  By then, all the seats outside had been taken so I sat on the floor and read my book with French tourists going to Alexandria clamouring all around me.  Things calmed down after an hour or so and boarding was on time and painless.

The plane was crowded - small, older women twittering in a language I didn't recognise.  The one next to me was Christian (she crossed herself on take-off) and she asked the air steward if she could keep her cup and saucer as a souvenir which she carefully put away in her sick bag and stored it in her copious cabin baggage.  I had an impression of judgement from them all and they seemed to be accompanied by young men speaking the same language who acted like they owned the plane and the stewards indulged them.  When I started to feel tired and withdrawn, I stood up to get my book out of the locker and the woman sitting behind cowered in her seat and put her hand protectively over her cup as though I was going to contaminate it.

The heat was the first impression on arrival in Aswan although it was after 11.00 pm by this time.  There was no guide with my name on a board to meet me, but by the time I had picked up my yellow Sicilian suitcase (already showing signs of battery and dirt smears) I spotted a young man with the board of the travel company in Malta.  The guides here seem more casual than in Cairo and no-one offered to carry my bags so I trundled myself out to the waiting car.  We drove on excellent new roads with very little traffic.  I was expecting to drive straight to the hotel, but after a while we pulled up at a landing on the banks of the Nile and got onto a boat with a Nubian boatman.  There is a complete Nubian village up here and the community hold onto their own language.  

A magical mid-night cruise up the Nile and we landed at the hotel which is on an island.  By this time, I was enchanted by the lights and the massive reception area of the hotel.  My room also looked fine - spacious and with a balcony.  But when I woke up in the morning and looked out of the window, I was really captivated.  The photo is taken from my balcony!

Memphis

I finished the previous post in a rush and forgot to mention Memphis.  We called in here after Saqqara.  It is the original city of a united Egypt and home of the famous massive statue of Rameses 2 now lying down in a special museum with a walkway round it so you can look down on it from all angles.  It must have been so imposing when it was standing with the classic left foot forward pose.  Mustfa told me that the left foot forward symbolised the side of the heart.

The photo is of the Sphinx of Memphis with the market behind.  This was 19th Dynasty, 1341-1200BC

Saqqara and Memphis

Already my last afternoon in Cairo is nearly over and I still haven't completed my tourist descriptions!  I started Tuesday morning with a walk down the road to see if I could cut across to the Nile.  I couldn't!  The busy road is chaotic and dirty, homeless people sleep on old sofas at the side - one has set himself up with a fireplace in front of him.  Horses are tethered and dogs also sleep on the pavement.  There is some kind of butcher's place on an open second floor and a man is doing something to a huge hanging half carcass.   Other men are manipulating the second half of the carcass out of a truck onto their shoulders.  It looks clean and still has its organs inside.

Tuesday's tourist venture is to visit the oldest pyramid in the world at Saqqara.  This is the famous stepped pyramid created for King Zoser by the architect, Imhotp.  This is the first time the pyramid shape was created.  It is in six enormous tiers and there were workers renovating the lower tier.  The entrance has 42 columns with 42 statues of King Zoser in the niches.  These were all robbed except one that was re-incorporated into a later building on site.  

Once through the entrance colonnade we came into a huge open couryard.  Mustfa told me that once every 30 years there was a big festival and King Zoser had to prove his strength by putting on heavy clothes including the massive double crown of Upper and Lower Egypt and dance/run around the courtyard that also represented the extent of upper and lower Egypt.  The pyramid had many false doors to confuse tomb raiders.

We then walked over to the tomb and pyramid of King Titi and his servant, Mereruka.  The tomb has very clear hieroglyphs engraved into the rock showing Titi's cartouche and telling the story of his glorious achievements.  Mereruka's temple depicts his work as a tax collector.

Lunch was in an outdoor restaurant and consisted of a personalised smoking BBQ.  As we came in, a woman was working at a traditional oven and a little girl sat by the toilets with a goat.  Clearly set up for tourists but charming still.  Then a quick visit to old Cairo and the hanging church of St Mary built over a Roman tower.  In the entrance courtyard, there are lovely mosaics showing the journey of the Holy family into Egypt and Mustfa told me something of the history of the early Coptic Christians.  We also went to the crypt of the Holy Family under St Sergius church where they had lived.  Mustfa, who is Muslim, clearly appreciated this peaceful place and was happy to light candles before we wandered back through the bazaar to the bus.

I spent the evening in the roof top restaurant after a dip in the pool and made the mistake of having a pizza for dinner that kept me awake in the middle of the night and left me feeling a bit seedy today.  But I must go now because my guide is due to return and take me to the airport for my flight to Aswan.

Giza, perfume, papyrus and museums

Monday was a holiday here in Cairo.  When I went down for a rather boring breakfast, I was intrigued by the bread twists that appeared to have a painted hard-boiled egg in the centre.  Later, the guide explained to me that the streets were less chaotic because of the holiday that marks the end of winter.  That evening, I read in the English addition of the Egyptian Gazette that traditionally people paint eggs and go for picnics in the park.  I can remember doing this as a small girl in Malta.

For my tour, I had a driver, my guide, Mostfa, and a mini bus to myself.  We headed out for Giza, one of the three cities that make up the huge conglomeration of Cairo.  My first glimpse of the great pyramid of Cheops came as we were driving along the busy road leading to the tourist mecca.  Even in the setting of a congested metropolis it is impressive.  The first glimpse is of two complete pyramids, the second and smaller still with a smooth finish on its apex.  The massive free-standing structures were made by placing huge quarried slabs on top of each other, progressively moving in towards the apex.  Mostfa quoted statistics about numbers of blocks and workers which were too huge for me to understand.  At the side of the Cheops pyramid, he archaeologists found a huge pit with a boat in it.  This was the vessel for the sun to make its daily journey across the pyramid.  Now it is in a specially built museum next to the pyramid to preserve it and, I suspect, to extract more money from the tourists.

When we arrived at the car park there were already several tourist buses lined up.  There are three intact pyramids on this site, but many more have collapsed.  It looks stunning from the desert viewing point despite the number of visitors.  There are lots of camels and horses for hire and glimpses of them riding through the desert add to the Lawrence of Arabia feel.  We walk around the base of the Cheops pyramid and I went down into the chamber of one of the lesser queens.  At first I was on my own carefully picking my way down the very steep chute with metal struts and wooden handrails to stop you from sliding.  The chamber of course is long empty, robbed by fortune hunters who have become the stuff of legends and Hollywood movies.  This tomb was hewn out of the rock rather than constructed around the sarcophagus as happened in more important tombs.  Even so, most tombs, apart from Tutenkhamen, have been raided.

I had a few moments to find the small side chamber where the mummy was placed before I was literally descended upon by a busload of French tourists.  I started to panic a little as I waited at the side of the long chute whilst assorted sized people picked their way down.  As the small chamber filled up, I yelled up the shaft to stop and let me out so they would have more room at the bottom.

Perhaps to help me overcome the smell of fear in a crowded space, Mustfa then took me to the government perfume factory.  He emphasised that this was entirely educational and I shouldn't feel pressured to buy.  Since I never wear perfume, I thought this was unlikely anyway, even when he told me that he had seen Nicole Kidman at the factory and thought she was incredibly beautiful.  As soon as I walked in, I was taken to watch the glass-blower making the bottles.  It was a sure way to get me wanting to take something away with me.  I love the concentration of a craftsman working and felt privileged to share the moment when a fellow human being makes something of beauty.

Once a beautiful small bottle was sitting on the work bench, a delightful young woman claimed me and took me into a room surrounded by mirrored shelves with bottles of essence and glass containers all around.  She sat me down at a low table and asked if I wanted coffee.  I half-heartedly explained that I didn't use perfume so wouldn't know what I was smelling.  She smilingly gave me a list to tick off and began to explain to me the power of aromatherapy.  I was fascinated and came away with four sturdy bottles of essence or oil - frankincence, myrrh, heliotrope essences and sandalwood oil - four lovely small bottles that I will use later to give small gifts to people when I get back, and two candle holder oil burners.  It was a tourist experience that will remain with me.

Next we went to the papyrus factory where I learnt that the papyrus plant has a triangular stem which is one of the reasons it holds a special place in Egyptian culture.  The papyrus plant is the symbol of Lower Egypt whilst the lotus plant is Upper Egypt's plant.  Both plants are carved on Egyptian columns and help to distinguish local architecture from the Graeco-Roman constructions found particularly around Alexandria.  In the process of making paper, the outer skin is removed from the stems and the pith is sliced.  At this stage, as my demonstrator showed quite clearly, the slices are easily broken but once it is hammered and pressed to remove water it becomes stronger.  It is then soaked for several days to remove the sugar.  The strips are then woven and placed between two pieces of carpet to be pressed in the sun for several more days.  The longer it is left, the darker it becomes.  The final product is very strong and was used for beds and chairs as well as a surface for writing and painting.

Again, I bought two small pieces - one showing the papyrus plant and lotus plant and another of a tree with birds that I think represents the family.  Someone wrote my cartouche on this one.

After lunch which was buffet style with interesting salads and vegetables and very sweet desserts, we finished off the day with a trip to the museum.  This is huge and the Tutenkhamen room is amazing.  There were several mummy cases each originally placed within the other like Russian dolls, and four sarcophagus on the same principle.  I also went round the animal embalming room but I was getting too full of experiences to take much in.  I determined to return today to see more but as you can see, today has become a day of recording rather than experiencing.

On the way back to the hotel, I asked Mustfa to stop and let me buy some water and fruit for dinner.  Even though hotel prices are cheap by European standards, I still resent paying 7 Egyptian pounds for a small bottle of water when I can buy a large bottle outside for 2!  Back in my hotel room, I heard the call to prayer and when I looked out of the window over the rooftops there were nine kites flying, pigeons wheeling and the two Giza pyramids showed reddish in the sunset haze.

Cairo

I'm writing this in the hotel lobby overlooking a chaotic street that is an impenetrable block back from the Nile.  The photo is a view from my hotel room on the ninth floor.  The room looks out over the rooftops of endless, unfinished, brick apartment blocks.  This used to be agricultural land and the residents are poor farmers.  The apartments are expensive and people move in before they can afford to finish the outside.  The rooftops become scrap yards with makeshift wooden shanties, public laundries and goat pens.  When the morning haze lifts, I can see two of the pyramids at Giza rising above the highrise apartment buildings.

On Monday and Tuesday, I did the tourist things including visiting these pyramids and I will write about this in my next posts.  My trip over from Malta was smooth.  When I walked back through the Marsaxlokk market on Sunday after my previous post, my slight anxiety about getting everything sorted and put into boxes to leave with my landlord kept me from enjoying the feeling of nostalgia about my last visit as a resident of Marsaxlokk.  But everything went like clockwork and then I was in the Cairo airport looking at my name on a card held up by a tall Egyptian.  After Malta, it is a shock to find myself in a land of large people!

After my four week stay in Alexandria last year, there was a familiarity about the chaos of Cairo streets and the check-in process whereby the male guide sat me down in the lobby and dealt with the male receptionist.  My room was spacious with a small sitting area.  When I arrived there was a lot of noise coming from the pool bar area that is one flight up on the roof.  My heart sank at the sound of disco music and young laughter and I wondered about asking for a change of room.  But I switched on the TV, found a station with Egyptian pop music, found my earplugs as a precaution, and by the time I went to bed, silence had fallen!

Now at the end of my stay, I have worked out the wireless system in the lobby and am settled at a table looking out on the busy street life.  My guide will be here at 6.00 to take me to the airport for my flight to Aswan so I have a good slab of time to catch up with all my internet business.  Life is sweet.

Farewell to Marsaxlokk

I'm writing this in the cafe on the front at Marsaxlokk.  The weather has been glorious and as I walked past the fishing boats with my laptop one of the fishermen mending his nets offered me a boat trip.  There was a big post-Easter feast here on Wednesday and boat trips were part of the fair atmosphere all along the front together with tombola and horse cart rides.  The feast of St Gregory dates back centuries and originated as a thanks-giving pilgrimage but there are various ideas about what people were giving thanks for.  It could be for the ending of the Great Siege in 1565 or the release from the plague of 1519 or even further back to protection from a heavy storm in 1343.  Now it is a general thanksgiving at the end of winter and some brave people have their first dip of the year in the harbour.

I missed most of the day's activities on Wednesday as I had to take two cases over to be stored at my cousin's place in Sliema.  I am overwhelmed by the amount of stuff I have accumulated in the six months I have been here and it looks like I will have things scattered all over Malta whilst I am away in Australia.  Today I'm still sorting things out in the flat and will be leaving three boxes with my landlord as well as my pushbike.  Yesterday we went up to Valletta to sort out the final payments on my water and electricity.  The office was crowded and we had to wait with a queue number for an hour or so.  Joseph, my landlord, gave me a lovely little candle holder as a going away present and it will be one of the first things to decorate my new flat in Valletta when I return.

I stayed on in Valletta to go to a lunch time concert at Manoel theatre.  There is a Dutch orchestra visiting this week for the String Festival and their bass clarinet player gave a challenging performance of pieces from 20th century composers.  The instrument makes a rich range of sound and my favourite piece had the tones of didgeridoo with the feel of jazz.  

Afterwards, Valletta was glowing in the sun as I strolled round the bastions overlooking Grand Harbour on my way to meet someone who already lives in the block of flats that I am moving into in January.  Olive briefed me well about the etiquette associated with living harmoniously in such a large block of flats and I am glad that she will be a neighbour when I return.

On the previous Saturday, Valletta was colder when I visited with my cousin and her daughter.  We came across from Birgu by dhaighsa (I made a mental note not to ask for the harbour cruise rather than the direct crossing again - it costs twice as much and doesn't go much further than going straight across the harbour from Birgu).  But the walk up from the Customs house drop-off is always interesting and we cut across to one of the band clubs on Republic street because Helen wanted to try rabbit and chips.  I then left them to explore and walked down to Fort St Elmo where Heritage Malta were offering member tours of the re-opened War Museum.

Sunday, we planned to stroll through the market at Marsaxlokk and then jump on the double decker bus for the South tour.  I still haven't made it to the Limestone Heritage and I thought this might be my chance but it wasn't to be.  Perhaps because of the weather which was threatening rain, the bus never showed up so we changed to plan B and got the ordinary bus up to Tarxien and went to the temple.  I enjoyed having visitors and it was fun to test out some of the things I have learnt about Malta this time.

Some friends have just dropped in to the cafe so I'll post this and hope I can find a cafe once I am traveling.

Easter in Malta

The weather has turned cold again and on Easter Monday we are having rain and wind here in Marsaxlokk.  Yesterday the boats were tossing on their moorings and the tourists at the market were complaining because it is warmer in England than Malta at the moment.  

I have had my cousin, Jennifer, and her daughter, Helen, visiting me from Luton and we have enjoyed three full days.  The photo that heads the post was taken at the Good Friday procession in Zejtun.  My good neighbours, who live in the flat below me, had given me the best places to go on the different days of Easter.  Zejtun is well known for the stunning costumes and the breadth of the Christ story told through the procession so we walked up through the valley from Marsaxlokk and arrived at the church soon after the parade had started to emerge.  We were able to locate the church by the sound of the clackers from the steeple.  On Good Friday, the bells are not used.

The square and street outside the church were packed and after getting our bearings from one side of the church door where we could just see the plumes of the Roman centurions over the heads of the crowd we decided to walk around the band to the other side.  The pavement was so full that we were struggling to find our way through.  We paused momentarily opposite the church doors and bought a pastizzi and then decided to cut off down a side street and see if we could find a better spot further down the processional route.

As you can see from the photo of the garden of Gethsemane, we found a great spot and were able to see the procession from the beginning.  It must have taken two hours for everyone to pass us and the costumes were very beautiful and represented a whole range of biblical characters.  The children were particularly delightful and as with carnival they gradually shifted from looking pious and shy at the beginning to mischievous and bold as the procession wound on.  One small boy lead a shoat and the little girl at his side had a cage with white doves.

The people carrying the heavy statues have a different technique from the bearers in Catania for the feast of St Agatha and adopt a rhythmic, wide-spaced stride that they coordinate with each other.  They have no padding on their shoulders for the poles and it was clear that some of the carriers were very tired even by the time they reached our point in the route.  The white robed figures were occasionally spelled by stand-ins from the crowd.

We had a bit of a challenge to find the bus stop after the parade had passed because Zejtun was closed to traffic but eventually we tracked it down and found a bus for the short trip back to Marsaxlokk.

For the rest of the weekend we explored Birgu, Valletta and Tarxien and I'll write about that in my next post.  This might be the last day I have internet access at home so my next post might be from the cafe on the front at Marsaxlokk where I used to post from when I first arrived.

Sliema

I called my previous post Living in Malta because I was going to write something about how my view of the world has shifted since I made the decision to base myself here.   But writing about the San Gwann area lead me in a different direction.  We'll see what happens in this post.

Most of the things I am doing just now are related to my return to Malta in 2010.  Both the conference at Dragonara and the workshop in Sliema that I'll write about here are associated with finding some part-time work when I come to live in my flat in Valletta.

Malta Association of Teachers of English as a Foreign Language advertised a seminar/workshop to be held at IELS in Sliema.  There are many English language schools in Malta and they each identify themselves with a series of letters like this.  I found it was quite confusing when people at the workshop introduced themselves and said where they worked with a string of letters.  Maybe I have just got out of the ways of the paid workforce!

The seminar was offering several different workshops from which we all chose two.  I put my name down for a session lead by Daniel Xerri called 'Using Literature in the EFL Classroom' and another by Jean Sciberras titled 'Using songs in the classroom.'

The literature class was theoretical with some activities thrown in and I found it very useful.  I used a short story by a Greek author writing about Alexandria when I was there studying for my TEFL qualification.  The class had worked well but I felt I could have linked it more strongly to language acquisition  and this is what the workshop offered.

I expected the song workshop to be about singing but found it focussed on using popular song lyrics to help with language acquisition.  The session was run as though it was a TEFL class.

The seminar was a very good way of starting to feel my way into the sector.  When it concluded at lunchtime, I had arranged to meet my cousin in a popular Sliema cafe just around the corner on the front.  This is the regular Saturday morning haunt for Doris and at first I couldn't spot her in the crowd.  She was squashed in around a tiny circular table with several other women friends.  When I squeezed in to join them, it became clear that this was the place to be to catch up with Sliema gossip.  As I tucked into my fruit tart for lunch, Doris was greeted by several other women as they strolled through the pavement cafe and everyone stopped for a chat.

The party broke up around 2.30 (Doris had been there since 11.00am) and I walked across the road to wait for the ferry across the harbour to Valletta.  It was another lovely day and I sat up on the bow for the short trip across Marsamxetto.  Walking up from the landing, I felt that the Valletta streets were starting to feel like home territory.

The photo that heads the post was taken from the Sliema promenade when I walked around from Spinola the previous day.

Living in Malta

The photo is of the rockpool at Paceville where I taught myself to swim when I was six years old.  It is almost the only thing in this area that still looks the same.  I was there on Friday when I went to a conference at Dragonara on the point between my rockpool and St George's Bay.  You can see what is now Dragonara Casino in the background.

I caught the bus from Valletta to San Gwann but arrived late for the conference because I got on the bus that went for a trip around the village rather than going down into Paceville so I stayed on for the ride and then walked from the top end of Paceville.  

The conference was about the Further and Higher Education Strategy 2020 and launched a report commissioned by the government.  When I arrived, the large conference room at the Westin Dragonara was full with men in grey suits.  I found myself a space on the back row after picking up my conference bag that contained the report.  I missed the opening but was there to hear Mr Jacques Sciberras go through the report, Professor Juanito Camilleri, Rector of the University of Malta, critique the report mostly in terms of action and Dr Dominic Orr speaking from the perspective of EU students.  

On the way out to morning tea, I overheard one of the few women who were there bashing the ear of a male colleague about how the private sector, where she located herself, could not afford to implement the strategies recommended in the report.  I suspect that most of the women there were from the private sector but I have no way of knowing because a gender break-down is noticeably missing from the report.

It was a beautiful day, and after sampling the white bread tuna sandwiches with crusts cut off I decided to slip away from the second session which promised a full series of speakers from the sector.  I set off to walk around the shoreline to Sliema and that is where I came across my rock pool.

I wasn't sure if I would be able to walk around the rocks any longer because of all the development so I asked a woman who was walking her dog.  She explained to me how I would have to walk around the marina and I might have to go through the Hilton hotel if a gate wasn't open but I should be able to get onto Spinola promenade.

Walking over the rocks I noticed a lot of fossils that I was not aware of as a child and the square tower where strange men used to hang out is still there.  There used to be a rubble road going round the coast with a fortified wall that had strange tunnels running through underneath that were just big enough for a small child to crawl through but this road is now closed off and I'm not sure what is going on there now.

I walked around the Portomaso marina wall and around the twin harbours, one for luxury speed boats and the other for yachts.  The development of apartments here is huge but at least you can walk around and look at the boats.  At the far end, a gate was open and I was able to skirt another massive hotel and walk past the restaurants on the edge of Spinola Bay.  In the Spinola area, several of the fishing boats have a curious rounded stern that is different from the boats at Marsaxlokk.

After that I decided to follow the promenade around until Sliema where I jumped on a bus to head back to Valletta and Marsaxlokk.  My cousin in Sliema wasn't home so we arranged by phone to meet the following day when I was due to go to another workshop this time in Sliema.  I'll write about that in my next post.

April in Malta

I took the photo on the last day of March as I walked the cliff path between Marsaxlokk and Birzebuggia.  I haven't been along there for a while and it looks great at this time of year.

I have been caught up in a flurry of new routines and activities.  The establishment of our family site has taken more and more of my time as I enjoy feeling connected to the different members of our clan scattered all over the world.  A year ago, I could not have imagined that there were so many of us or that we had such an extensive photographic record of our diverse histories and lives.  Having the website changes how I think about family support because it means that I no longer have to rely on physical proximity to feel connected to people I love.

This week I also started work on the Queensland Writers' Year of the Novel Online course.  It has made me realise that if I want to complete my first novel, I will have to stop playing at being a writer and start to be a bit more disciplined.  I want to keep this blog going as I move into the next phase of my life but it will need to drop a little down the list of priorities.  As I travel back to Australia, I'll try and post whenever I can.  When I get back, I'll review the motivation to continue after my year of travel.  I am so glad that I have this record of the journey I've taken and I think it will be a worthwhile project to continue perhaps with a different emphasis.

There are three huge projects for me in the coming year - the novel, my Australian choir's planned trip to Cuba to sing at a choir festival there, and my move to live in Malta.  It's going to be a very full year!

Over the past few weeks, I've found myself saying more frequently that something will have to be left until I come back to Malta next year.  I decided not to go on the Ramblers' walks or the Arts and Cultural tours or the Geographic expeditions.  It's a kind of withdrawal, a preparation for leave-taking.  I still go up to Valletta to the concerts at St Catherine's but I usually combine that with walking down to my new flat and exploring around the block where it is located.  

There are also two conferences this week both associated with the part-time work in TEFL teaching that I'm hoping to take on when I return.  On Friday there is a conference about the Further and Higher Education Strategy 2020 at The Dragonara Resort in St Julian's and on Saturday, a workshop run by Malta TEFL in Sliema.

On Monday, I did make it up to Valletta for the Historical Society's lecture on "Medical aspects of the Great Siege".  It was held in the Palazzo Parisio where the Ministry for Foreign Affairs are housed and it was another excellent presentation in the Historical Society's series.  The small hall was full to capacity once again and I was glad I got there early to get a front row seat and check out the building which I haven't been into before.  The lecturer was a medical doctor and I liked the approach that he took which was to compare the knights preparations for war with the planning strategies needed for any major confrontation such as the 2nd World War.

I'll have to miss the next lectures in the series but I'll be looking out for Historical Society events when I return!

Seaweed and boathouses

A brief post to promise more later.  I seem to be spending a lot of time pottering at home in Marsaxlokk and attending to things to help with my trip back to Australia, the purchase of my flat in Valletta and following up on possibilities for part-time work when I return to Malta next year.  I'm also spending a lot of time on a new family website that we've set up.  Electronic media open so many doors!

The photo was taken in Gozo at Dahlet Qorrot and shows the boathouses carved out of the globigerina limestone and the seaweed piled up on the rocks around the beach. 

A different place

There has been a subtle change in the way I view the world.  I have been busy with arranging fund transfers and all the minutiae of buying property in a new country.  I'm also still a bit flat from my cold.  But there is something else.  I have started to see Malta as my base from which I hope to visit other places in a world that continues to fascinate and entice me.  Last week, Australia was my base and I was traveling for a year.  

As I have been photocopying documents (I go to the local news agent) and emailing, a couple of other things have been surfacing.  Firstly, the planning of my trip to Australia during April/May is more settled with the Egypt leg in place.  I still need to sort out six days in Dubai/Oman and three days in Singapore but I'm getting a clearer picture of the possibilities.

The other aspect is that I have started to think about finding some part-time work when I return to Malta at the start of 2010.  There is an advertisement for TEFL teachers in the closed immigrant centres and I am looking into that as a way of finding out what employment processes are in place here.  I don't want to take on too much as I still like playing with my writing and I've enrolled in an on-line course for a year on the novel with Queensland Writers.

This week I've still managed to fit in some concerts.  Thursday's lunchtime at St Catherine's was baroque music for flute and harpsichord and on Sunday a string quartet playing Rossini and a quintet playing Dvorjak.  I am so glad that I have discovered late in life the pleasure of classical music!

I stayed on in Valletta on Sunday and went to a concert by the Vallette Clarinet Quartet in the Music Room at St James Cavalier.  This was 20th century music including a piece by Maltese composer Charles Camilleri who has only recently died.

The photo is of a fishing boat at rest in Marsaxlokk.  I will find ways of continuing to enjoy Marsaxlokk when I am living in Valletta.  

A turning point

The photo is taken off Delimara and shows fishing boats returning to Marsaxlokk.

My cold has kept me at home this week but the sun has been warm so I have spent a lot of time on the roof reading.  On Sunday I missed the Ramblers walk.  It was to be another circuit of the Valletta bastions but this time continuing through Marsa to the Marsovin winery in Paola for a lunchtime  wine-tasting.  Some friends in Australia were also having lunch on Sunday, so I missed lunches at both ends of the world!

I also missed a course on Maltese trees to be held at Mosta and an open day at San Pawl Milqi which is built on the site of a Roman villa owned by Publius who welcomed St Paul when he was shipwrecked here in 60AD.  To make up for it, I've finished reading a book by the scuba diver, Mark Gatt, called "Pawlus - the shipwreck" that is an interesting collection of historical research, marine archaeological finds and stories related to St Paul.

But I managed to drag my cold to Valletta on two days.  On Thursday, I made it to the concert of flute and harpsichord sonatas at St Catherine's and on Tuesday I went up for the signing of our convenium on the purchase of my flat in Valletta!  The convenium is like a promise of commitment to buying and selling property here in Malta.  It is a process whereby buyer and seller come together to clarify all the details related to the transfer of ownership.  I now have six months to make sure that all the necessary steps are taken so that I have a place to live when I return in 2010.  

I feel anxious about it all but know that it is a good decision for me.  Now the things that I do over the coming year will be informed by my return to Malta at the end of the year.  I've made my choice at the fork in the road!

Around and under Valletta

I've been nursing a cold this week as Malta begins to warm towards Spring.  But I didn't want to miss two new perspectives on Valletta.  On Wednesday afternoon, Malta Geographic organised a walk around the Valletta bastions starting from Floriana.  Then on Thursday evening Din l-Art Helwa were hosting a lecture by Architect Edward Said on Subterranean Valletta.

The photo is of hewn rock on the Grand Harbour side of Valletta.  In the bottom right hand corner you can see an arch entrance and I think this might be the entrance to one of the tunnels that Edward Said talked about.

On Wednesday we set off from Floriana and walked down the side of the Hotel Phoenicia.  I was surprised to see how quickly we were looking out over Marsamxetto harbour towards Sliema.  A huge hotel has been built here but it is below the sight line from the ramparts.  At the bottom, we walked past an old bar with a Cisk sign and picked our way along a curious cutting with a terrace of boat sheds.  Beyond this area we came onto the globigerina limestone rock ledge at the base of the bastions.  We followed the base of the bastion round using steps cut into the rocks in places until we reached the headland where the breakwater for Grand Harbour points a finger to Fort Ricosoli.

The breakwater is separated from the headland by a channel that is deep enough to allow ferry boats through.  There used to be a bridge over here to access the breakwater but it was destroyed in a U-boat attack during WW2.  Now there is only the rusting remains of the central support and steps up to the old bridge access.  There is talk in the papers of EU funds to build another bridge to the breakwater and make it a peace bridge.

Soon after the breakwater we climbed up and over a new footbridge at the base of the ramparts and continued to follow the base of the ramparts on the Grand Harbour side.  Here there is a lot of rock hewn areas that seem to be slipways from the time of the knights.  There are also old capstans and quays, probably from the British period.  A large wooden door at the base of the ramparts has a sign announcing "Boom Defence" and our guide explained that this was where the boom gates across the entrance to Grand Harbour were operated from during WW2.

As we came round at the base of the rampart that now houses the Malta Experience we came to the fisherman's village that I have noted with interest before when I walked along the top of the bastion past the old knights hospital now the Mediterranean Conference centre.  Here there is a small group of boat sheds built into the ledges of rock and each one complete with a neat front yard.  Small boats winter on the narrow streets and there is a legion of cats sleeping the afternoon away.  At the far end along a mini headland covered with sheds, a mural of four different kinds of ship has been painted on the hewn rock.

After the village, we climbed back up to the top of the bastion and walked past the giant bell at the war memorial and down the rampart to Victoria Gate.  I have walked this way before coming up from the dhaijsa drop-off at the old fish market.  We walked past the wharf where the Sicily ferry comes in and I remembered my landing there in September last year.  It seems so long ago!

From here we walked back up the hill to Floriana and strolled through the park at the top of the bastions there, looking over the cruise line terminal to Cottonera.  I have walked along here before when I first explored the walk around Grand Harbour to Marsa and then the three cities.

We completed the circuit by cutting across Floriana to go back down the Msida bastion and past the Librerija Pubblika Centrali where I noticed they have a separate Melitensia section that I have made a note to visit again soon.  We came out at a car park outside the massive hotel Excelsior that we noticed at the start of the walk.  The group broke up here but another rambler showed me a route up through a cutting to the bus terminus.

On Thursday night, the lecture on subterranean Valletta was fascinating.  I went up for the lunchtime concert at St Cat's and then spent the afternoon attending to some of the necessary steps for coming to live in Valletta in 2010.  I arrived at Din l-Art Helwa office at about 5.30 and already there were people gathering in the small lecture hall.  When they started the lecture scheduled for 6.00 the room was full and people were standing in the corridor hoping to hear what was said.

Before the coming of the knights in C16 there were probably cisterns and perhaps catacombs to serve the farming villages and temples on Mt Sceberras.  The knights continued the traditional Maltese practice of digging out large wells under a house to service the water requirements for the dwelling but also to provide stone for the building.  But they also added a road network of sewage tunnels under the grid system of the city streets.  This was at a time when the major cities of Europe were sinking under the streams of sewage running in the streets.  The British added pipe connections to this grid of tunnels to make an efficient sewage disposal system and re-direct the sewage outflow to a treatment plant rather than pouring out into Grand Harbour.

The network of underground tunnels, cellars, cisterns, reservoirs, granaries and access tunnels was further added to in WW2 to provide air raid shelters for the residents of Valletta.  These later additions are characterised by a zig-zag entrance to prevent bomb blast from penetrating.  The system is so extensive that it has not yet been fully explored and researched and even this week, new tunnels have been discovered.  Every way I look at it, Malta keeps on revealing hidden depths!

 

Renovating St Cat's

The photo is of the cart ruts above Dwejra in Gozo. What ancient need is behind these stone cut tracks that can be found all over Malta and Gozo?  They are always the same distance apart so must be man-made.  My own feeling is that they are not caused by the erosion of wheels or sledges but were cut into the rock to serve like tram tracks for whatever needed to be transported from one place to another on a regular basis.

I want to do a short post on St Catherine of Italy.  The programme for March is now out and it is a celebration of the start of the renovation of the fresco in the cupola.  At this time of recession, Bank of Valletta have put up the funds to complete the work and the scaffolding is now in place as well as some curious hanging equipment to measure the climate in the chapel so that the painstaking work of restoring the beautiful grey on grey workmanship can begin.  There are several panels around the dome and each one depicts an aspect of the life of St Catherine.

The scaffolding has meant some rearrangement of the seating and the stage area so when the house is full, as it was today, the small round chapel is tightly packed.  Today I tried a different location and sat on the front row of the nave.  The full St James consort were playing two Haydn concerti - the Piano concerto with Ramona Zammit Formosa and the Trumpet concerto with Sigmund Mifsud - and I felt like I was right in the thick of it!  I am so privileged to be able to enjoy these great concerts in such a lovely, small location.

So far this March I've enjoyed flute trio sonatas (one of my favourite instruments) and L'Arte del Recitativo with the powerful soprano Andriano Fenech Yordnova.  Next Thursday we have the visiting Valparisio University Concert Band.  I think they will have to work out a way of doubling up the scaffolding to be used as tiered seating for the rest of the year's programme!

Dwejra to San Dimitri

Our final Gozo walk on Sunday morning stretched into a five hour hike over the cliffs at the northern end of Malta's sister island.  This part is also rich in natural heritage as well as ancient cultural additions to the landscape.  Once again our guide was John Mizzi and his way of expressing this intermingling of culture and nature is "Feel the energy!"

We set off from Dwejra, a tiny village built around a small inland cove that connects to the Mediterranean sea through a tunnel.  I visited this area last year when I stayed in Gharb with my brother and his family.  He and my niece went out on one of the little boats that take people through the tunnel to explore the caves and natural arches.  My brother and I also went snorkeling along the fault line drop-off here.  Fungus rock and Crocodile rock are internationally known as scuba-diving sites and Fungus rock was protected by the knights of Malta because of the plant that grows there and is reputed to have medicinal properties.

We climbed up over the globigerina cliffs at the back of the small chapel.  Here there are good examples of the enigmatic cart ruts that are found throughout Malta and Gozo.  We also noticed that the limestone we were walking over was peppered with fossilised sea shells.  When we reached the garigue, there was plenty of Maltese spurge and edible plants for John to demonstrate survival techniques!  There was even a small meadow of yellow jonquils.

After walking along the headlands with the sea on our left, we dropped down into a valley with an irrigation stream running quite strongly.  The valley ends at a cliff so when there is a big wet season, there is a waterfall into the sea.  As we climbed up the globigerina limestone cliffs on the opposite side, John showed us a small cave that he thought was carved out in the bronze age.  It was certainly man-made but some of the more sceptical ramblers thought it was more likely to be a fisherman's cave.  Malta has such a tradition of re-cycling that my own feeling is that it has been carved thousands of years ago and re-used through the centuries.

We continued on along several headlands, dropping down into the valleys between.  At one valley, a small group of ramblers left us to walk up the valley and back to their cars to catch the earlier ferry back to Malta, but most people stayed to continue on to San Dimitri.  On several of the headlands along here there are piles and circles of coralline blocks of stone which John thinks are undocumented temples.  The photo that heads the post is of one of these sites.  

I stumbled on one of these temples when I walked down a country road from Gharb on last year's visit to Gozo.  It was this road that we walked up to complete the circle and return to Dwijra.  We stopped at a small chapel that I had visited before and John told the tale of a hermit priest who lived by the chapel and had a son who was abducted by pirates.  I'm not sure about the rest of the tale but I have made a note to start exploring the myths and legends of Malta and Gozo.

After touching the outskirts of San Dimitri, we walked back out to the cliff edge and completed the circuit walking back along the headlands with the sea on our right.  I was dawdling at the rear as we dropped back down into Dwejra and my lift had already started the car and was heading towards me.  We had a bit of a race to the ferry and missed the 2.30 but got into the queue for the 3.00 o-clock.  I had a lift all the way back to Birkikarra where my hosts offered me tea in their lovely big house and I changed cars to go with another of the ramblers who lives at Marsascala.  She dropped me off at Paula to catch the Marsaxlokk bus home.  Once again, I felt a surge of happiness at the wonder of the Maltese landscape and the warmth of the Maltese people.

Xaghra plateau and Dahlet Qorrot

The emphasis on Saturday was on walking!  We walked for seven and a half hours with very few breaks and the pace was cracking!  But the countryside was dramatic and I was able to get a good set of photos when the trailing edge of the walkers had to wait as the front runners went through a particularly tricky part in single file.  There were places where we even had to use a bit of rock climbing.

We set off from closer to the suburbs of Rabat than we had the day before and walked to Xaghra plateau.  The village of Xaghra is isolated on the top of the plateau and the whole area is peppered with ancient temples and villages.  It also has an interesting recent history and I have read about the story of how the plague was introduced from Malta and the village closed its gates to the rest of Gozo to prevent the disease from spreading.  Mary Grech (1991) has written an intriguing tale called "The Stolen Faldetta."

From the plateau, we descended and found ourselves walking in the opposite direction to our walk up the valley from Nuffara the previous day.  The reflections in streams and dams were even more startling as it was a lovely sunny day.  Two valleys, Wied Bingemma and Wied San Blas join to go down to Ramla Bay.  

We crossed the valley and climbed up steeply to walk along the ridge to Nadur where we marched through the lovely square to the public toilets.   As people waited their turn, I ducked back to the square and discovered that the area around Nadur has been identified as a European Destination of Excellence as the best emerging rural zone.  For some reason, all the flags around the church and the square were at half mast.  

When I got back to the toilets, the front walkers had already set off again and those who were still waiting in line, sitting on the pavement, were getting distressed.  So there was some whistle-blowing, shouting and use of mobile phones to get the leader to stop and wait for us.  Once we were all gathered again, we dropped down into another valley and then up a very steep climb.  

We came out at the ta' Tocc garigue which is reputed to be the most beautiful in Gozo.  The wild fennel was in bloom and covered the plateau in a lovely soft green.  The almond trees were a mass of blossom and the rubble walls were peppered with wild flowers.  Below us in the valley, the Nadur fields were neat, well cultivated and the orange groves have bamboo wind breaks around them.  We walked along a country road for a while with the valley fields on one side and the garigue on the other and then we left the road to cross the garigue in single file and walk along the ridge towards the sea.

When we descended on the boulder cliffs, the sea looked stunning - a lovely turquoise blue that I am coming to associate with the Mediterranean whatever shore it washes up against.  We followed the path that you can see in the photo above so I was able to look up from my feet and admire the headlands as we walked.  

After an hour or so of delightful walking, we rounded one of the headlands to find Dahlet (inlet) Qorrot.  There was a single luzzu unloading at the small jetty.  The tiny inlet has several boathouses carved into the globigerina limestone cliffs on one side, a small beach that is piled high with seaweed at this time of year and a single road curving down the cliffs on the other side.  We all sat down on the steps leading down to the beach to wait for the delivery of our pizza or ftira that we had ordered the night before for delivery to this lovely spot.

Everyone was pretty exhausted at this point and stretched out in the sun.  I found a shady spot by the boathouses but it was very wet here with water seeping through the limestone so I walked down along the beach front and admired how the seaweed was piled into amazing shapes on the rocks.  After a while, everyone got up apparently without discussion and started plodding up the road.  When I said nervously that I thought we were going to have lunch at this lovely spot I was told that everyone had decided to walk a little further before lunch.  I think the mobiles must have been in use again!

We walked slowly up the road until we came to a hairpin bend with a track leading off the road to go around the headland.  Here we all sat down at the edge of the road and a car arrived to unload big boxes of pizza.  Now there was the drama of making sure that everybody got what they had ordered.  When my vegetarian ftira eventually emerged from the boxes and the crowd, I was startled to see how big it was.  A ftira is like a small pizza and it was loaded with topping and olive oil.   But I still managed to eat it all!

After lunch we set off down the track and around the headland.  By this time, I was starting to think that I had done enough walking for one day and this was reinforced  when we again left a small country road and climbed up onto the garigue.  There was no track and at one point we had to rock climb to get up a section of the coralline limestone cliff.  Things were descending into an every-man-for-himself effort!

We came out again on the country road and plodded along until we reached a cross roads.  At this point there was something of a revolution.  The plan was to set off down to Ramla bay to our right but a large majority wanted to go straight ahead back to Rabat on the main road.  I decided to go along with the majority since my lift was in that group and I thought Rabat must only be half an hour away.

It was another hour and a half before we made it!  We got back to our hotel in Xlendi at 5.30 and the group that walked round to Ramla bay were only an hour behind us.  My room mate went to sleep before dinner and I ran myself a bath to enjoy a long steep!  But it was a great day, I felt pleased that I had managed such a long, fast walk and I came to love Gozo even more.

Nuffara - man who scares

Our walk on Friday afternoon was lead by John Mizzi who stars in the photo above.  John has a website at www.gozo-excursions.com

We set off from the main Gozo city of Rabat to climb the Nuffara plateau.  The meaning is man who scares or scarecrow.  The countryside looks stunning just now and John's specialties are edible plants and ancient temples so there were plenty of interesting things to see and taste.  I enjoyed the fresh new shoots of wild fennel, the lemon taste of the stalks of sorrel and the flowers of several legumes and other plants.  In the photo John is demonstrating how to eat wild oats.

The climb up was steep but there were lovely views of the valley and John stopped frequently to demonstrate edibility or show us examples of different kinds of ancient pottery sherds that can be found (and left behind) all across this area.  The garigue at the top is stunning and there are girna (gorbelled stone shelters) and ancient rubble walls.   I noticed that the hunting hides in Gozo are different from in Malta and are built on a platform with a ladder to reach them.

Looking across the valley we were on the same level as Gigantija temple that I visited last year with the archaeologist, Dr David Trump.  It was easy to imagine the people who lived in the ancient rubble stone village that we walked through following the same path that we descended to go across the valley to their temple.  We also wondered about the purpose of a large boulder that had been carved into a V shape and the libation holes carved into another massive boulder.

The walk up the valley floor back to Rabat was very wet but presented another interesting side of Gozo landscape.  At this time of year the stream is running strongly and the dams were full and formed small lakes that reflected the globigerina limestone cliff edges to the valley.  It was a great beginning to our weekend of walking.