Lost in Buskett

A few years ago I walked in Buskett gardens with Malta Ramblers.  Verdala Palace was built by the knights as a hunting lodge and the gardens were planted to serve as their hunting grounds.  We walked past two tumble-down farmhouses and were promised that the walls were to be rebuilt using EU funding.  The plan was to use the buildings as interpretation centres for the gardens.

Now it has happened!  Today I got the bus to Rabat and walked over to Buskett to check out the advertised open day.  This is the smaller of two farmhouses that have been restored.

Walking over from Rabat, I came into the gardens from the top road and was confused by a large crowd of mostly men gathering at a large shed.  It was difficult to work out what was going on.  They looked like hunters or farmers and one had a parrot on his shoulder. 

I attended to my immediate need and found a single toilet.  I returned to the gathering thinking it might be the start of the guided tour.  A speaker system was being tested.  I hung around for a bit as people were invited to sit down.  It was starting to look like a political rally.  I started to feel cross.  Everything has been hi-jacked by the election.  I asked a woman who was sitting on the edge.

"It's the election.  Our leaders are coming to talk to the people."  She pointed me down the road and I set off in search of the farmhouses.  I found the first and largest one quite quickly.

They have done an excellent job of restoring the old buildings.  The falconer was one of the costumed men whose job seemed to be to hang about and answer questions.

 Inside the rooms there were interesting niches probably for cooking and washing as well as ventilation in the walls.  The information boards were intended to give an impression of the future use as an interpretation centre but were difficult to read.

From the roof

 a view of the valley waterway

and this was the irrigation system at the back of the farmhouse

 I walked out through the back gate with the coat of arms

 and set off down this roadway and along the waterway

 The lane petered out before I could find the second farmhouse and so I scrambled up a narrow path and doubled back on myself

 through some dramatic walls and gardens

When I got back to the first farmhouse, the small girl I had seen from the roof was intent on taking
a micro photo of an interesting pattern in the wall.

 I wandered back out past the political meeting place now empty and out on the Siggiewi side where I stumbled on the Olive press and winery.  The stalls with honey, olive products and wine were neat but felt like it was done for the tourists.  But I discovered that the bus stop was just outside and since it was starting to rain I decided to join the fairly large and growing number of people waiting for the bus.  We waited.  The advertised time went by.  The policeman directing traffic said "Don't worry, it comes every hour."  We waited.  I phoned Arriva and once I'd pressed the right numbers to get past the recorded voice and had given the human the number of the bus stop, I was told that the next bus was due at quarter to the hour.  "What happened to the one for the previous hour?" I inquired and at that moment, the bus appeared.

Back at Rabat, I was starving and wandered down to the Cuckoo's nest for lunch - home-made Maltese wine and a delicious slow-cooked meat stew that I suspect might have been horse.  I was the only person there and the family who run the bar were watching politicians on the TV.