Homeward Bound

We woke to a beautiful day and, after a final custard croissant, were transported to Palermo airport by the guy that brought us here (therefore another quick trip).

We arrived at Rome airport and finally found a taxi willing to take us to our hotel in Ostia, a town about 20 minutes drive away. We chose this so as not to have the traffic hassles of driving into Rome city for a night. We were quite concerned about the choice of area as it looked very tired and run down. It seems that the local council gave up on keeping this beachside town in any way appealing to the public. We did, however, have a lovely view over the ocean and the nearby marina.

The 3km walk into town was a mistake having discovered that the marina was a lovely area with lots of shops and restaurants, and only a few minutes walk from our hotel.

We had a lovely dinner by the water at the marina then back for the final packing of the suitcases.

Up, up and away over the coast and past San Vito Lo Capo once more. The flight home is a killer but worth it for the fabulous experiences of travelling the world.

San Vito Lo Capo

It has been very slow, relaxing and low key here in San Vito Lo Capo over the past five days. Exactly what we planned for this part of our trip. We were relying pretty heavily on beach weather and it has been good to us, in the main. 

We anticipated one and half to two hours from Palermo airport, but our car man was having none of that. Going 30 k over the speed limit all the way we were here in an hour. The scenery was spectacular. Mountains on one side, their feet dotted with little stone villages, then running out into the blue sea. It is stony country, steep, with blue overhead and blue pushing out to the horizon. Nice.

San Vito is not exactly as I imagined. I (we) was expecting something really slow, not many hotels, a few bars, but this is a local tourist spot and sort of perfect for what we wanted. It is a really beautiful beach. Proper Hawks Nest white sand, a little bit of wave action and a huge rocky headland. It has the European beach chair and umbrella system, but our people told us "free beach" which means you can plonk your towel down anywhere. Yippee.

It is maybe the equivalent of Terrigal or some such, not too far out of the big smoke, but far enough, plenty to do, lots of restaurants, bars, hotels, but holiday pace. So we have relaxed into the pace of gathering locals. There is not a great deal of English here, I have heard German and Scandinavian, but it is mainly Sicilians (or Italians ) who are holidaying. No Australians at all and only Michele has heard other Anglos in conversation. Yanks, she said. So, it has been back to sign language and the few Italian words we know to communicate anything. Mostly it is breakfast and eating out where we have had to get the message across and that is never too hard.

It has a family vibe. Lots of families out eating at night and plenty of street stalls, which is always great to see. Our hotel is nice, fabulous spot, but the staff are a little serious, not like most Italians in the tourist trade. There has been slow trade here, unlike the other places and I wonder if The Egitarso is maybe struggling a little. The staff don't seem to be having much fun. Jobs on the line? Low morale? Food poisoning? Dunno.

Anyway, most of our time has been on the beach.

Beautiful water. A thousand hawkers. I have not seen one drop of block out, let alone a rashie. When I got the shirt off on day one, children were cowering behind adults. "Whatta is it mama? Is ittta ghosta?"

"Don be frriten my bambino."

"Why hezza squirt milk on hisself?" 

"Be brava Aldolfo."

"Now hezza squirt milk on his FEET Mama!"

The food has been great. A different restaurant every night and no disappointments, the gelato has been the highlight, the best ever, so we have given that a real nudge. We are packing tonight for our flight to Rome tomorrow. Overnight there, then the plane home.

It has been a really brilliant holiday, the eight weeks have flown by, can't believe it has gone actually But it is time to return Down Under and we are both looking forward to that, to see everyone again and to enjoy the familiarity of home.

A few things I am looking forward to. Seeing the kids. A pie. My guitar. The BBQ. The Ashes build up. And all the great people at SPC as I prepare for the big adios.

More Malta teasing

They told us it never rains here.

I won't complain, our weather on this trip has been awesome, almost perfect for travel, so I will zip it about the bucketing we have received over the past two days. Really heavy, "not much you can do" rain. Pouring. Miserable. But not a word, shhh, we have had it good.

On the first rainy day, we had breakfast and I caught up on this blog in our lovely hotel room. It was my birthday. Yay. It was sort of nice to just be inside and relax for a while. I read further on my "Great Siege" book. It is based on the actual written account of an eye witness, whose diary has also been published. But this little gem is a well constructed narrative, full of the drama, plots, politics of the whole event. It is such a pivotal event in the country's history, given that the Turks should have won the island easily, but were held off by The Knights of St John. Malta was saved from one group of religious fanatics to be ruled by another. But the heroism amongst the slaughter is astounding really. These were tough, tough men (and women and children). The reality of this warfare where cannon, musket and primitive explosives blew rock and bone apart, then cavalry charged with swords and scimitars, is horrendous. Within a four square mile area, the epicentre of modern Valletta and its harbours, 40 000 men and 200 ships battled for four months. The horror is that most soldiers carried wounds throughout, dislocated shoulders and lost fingers were common, because the weapons were, by modern standards, ineffective. Burns and rock splinter wounds meant nothing, you just went back into the fray and cannon shot at close range decapitated. 

The Knights are celebrated everywhere here. Models of them dominate the shelves in the souvenir shop and the main cathedral, St John, has its ornate altars dedicated to the various Grand Masters of the order. It was they who built the incredible fortresses and defences of the city, to ensure Islamic infidels would not try it on for a second time. Really fascinating history.

My birthday dinner was a treat. A really lovely restaurant built into the city wall, Giannini, with a spectacular view of Marsmanxett Harbour. Rack of Lamb and the local beer, very nice thanks Michele.

Our second day of rain was not going to deter us, so we took our complimentary umbrella and strode out to the cathedral. St John's. It is very austere on the outside, but once in the door, favoom! I have never seen anything as ornate as this. And busy, busy, busy. Loads of people from cruise ships packed it out and it is not that big. 

The big highlights are the three Caravaggio art works, including the only one he ever put his name to. He signed his name in the blood of John the Baptist as he was being beheaded. In the painting, that is. I read up on Caravaggio after and found out (I am sure everyone else knows already) that he was a complete nut job. Because everyone wanted him to paint for them, important people kept covering up his misdemeanours. Little things like murder and arson and stuff. He slept in armour and carried a sword, the kook. He could sure handle a brush, but. His painting of St Jerome had me transfixed. The realism was extraordinary, something he was renowned for, a trailblazer in technique. He was excommunicated here under his John the Baptist painting because not only did he want to kill people, but used a dead prostitute as the model for his painting of the Virgin Mary.

 What an interesting guy.

Out into the rain, to discover the sun had broken through, so we stopped at an outdoor eatery, asked the waiter to wipe down the table and chairs and we shared a pizza. We walked the city a bit, along streets we hadn't seen, saw our first pastizzis (true), made our slow way home. 

We had decided that this was going to be our last and only chance to get into the beautiful hotel pool. It has looked so inviting all week, huge thing with steps leading down into the harbour, but the weather has stopped us. The sun was doing its best to come out, so we grabbed hotel towels, found banana lounges (easy task) and hit the water. It is definitely end of season. The heating had been turned off. But, determined to enjoy our pool, we swanned around pretending it was high summer. Chilly, but you get used to it! Read and listened to some music, thinking that the seven weeks of travel is starting to take its toll, a little bit dozy. Dinner in the hotel, for old times sake. Good meal, but all week we seem to have had little communication barriers with the staff. I am sure it is the Aussie accent, because everyone speaks English here. We never connect first go. 

Off to Sicily tomorrow. San Vito Lo Capo here we come. Then Rome overnight. Then home.

Malta, you tease.

And then there were two. Again. Our first impression of Malta was the little swarthy taxi driver who drove at breakneck speed to The Grand Hotel Excelsior, it was like The Wild Mouse. The hotel is plush, a real five star job. When we opened the curtains of our room, it was breathtaking. We are right on the harbour, the lights of the city, the water, the city wall all around us. A party was going on around the pool, Aussies, and at the restaurant next to us there was music and coloured lights. Brilliant spot. We settled in, then up to one of the bar restaurants for a huge Nachos (what else in Malta?) and a few drinkies. It is a really huge, international hotel with all the bits.

Day One we decided on the Hop On Hop Off Bus. It has always worked for us in the past to get a look around like this, picking stops along the way. The Hop On Hop Off Bus driver must have been the taxi driver's more reckless brother. Up on top deck, the whole thing sways, so when Aryton Fenech, took each turn at 90 km, with the trees cut an inch from your head, it was edgy for geriatrics like us. Our target was Mdina, the Silent City. It was once the capital, an ancient walled city on a high hill, outside the main, modern city. I was excited by the chance to see some Game of Thrones locations, so when I first saw Mdina, I was looking at King's Landing! And so, throughout all of the streets, you see the winding ways of King's Landing, each street bent to avoid death from a shot arrow. Littlefinger's brothel featured, as did Mesquite Square where Jaime took on Ned Stark. We had a coffee high on the wall overlooking the distant Valletta and the sea. Lovely, a little hot, but nice. Michele freaked when she realised she had thrown our Hop On ticket into a bin. She had put it in a special zip, too. She went back to the bin and a nice man helped her rifle through the rubbish for twenty minutes, to no avail. Then as we dragged ourselves to buy another, she rediscovered the very special zip, inside the special zip that held the tickets. Happy. 

Back on the bus, we continued through lots of unspectacular little towns, until we hit the edges of Valletta again. All around the capital is a mix of fascinating architecture, every style you can think of, with walls and fortresses threading through it all. Malta has seen more war action than most and every ruler has wanted to defend it because of its strategic location. Thus, the fortresses. Where we were dropped off we got to wander the battery and sections of the defensive walls above Grand Harbour. I am reading The Great Siege, a book about the Siege of 1565, in which the Ottoman Turks attacked the city and The Knights of St John, led by La Vallette defended it successfully. The forts, St Elmo and St Angelo (no, not St Kermit, Marty Collins) feature prominently in the siege. 

A really good day. Thanks Hop On Hop Off.

We ate again in the hotel, just for the convenience. It was good. Thick hamburger patties. Lamb burger was good too. 

Our hotel from the bus

Hotel brekky is good with all the works. Love the egg chef, cooking yours however you like them as you wait.

Our second day, we did the South Tour with Hop On Hop Off. Malta is very small, the Hop On bus service covers most of the island in its two routes. Today, we were keen to see the Blue Grotto, a world heritage site. The weather has turned a little grim, but still ok for this sort of thing, so we climbed up top and off we went. This side of the city is more interesting, in my opinion. It has the defensive line built by the Knights after the siege, Vittorioso, Marsaxlokk where the Turkish fleet anchored and eventually the Blue Grotto. It was pretty impressive, but the uphill walk nearly killed me. You can do it by boat, but as we are discovering, only in season, which ends September 30. A shame. To get into one of the little fishing boats, down the channel between the rocks and into the grotto would be a totally different experience. 

It is the most southern part of the island, but once we boarded the bus and he floored it, we were back in town in twenty minutes. It is a small island. 

We found a nice restaurant opposite the St John's Church and we both ate local. Maltese pasta and Michele tried the local (a little bit imported from Italy) wine. It was quite good. The local produce is pretty abundant, despite the rocky terrain and lack of fresh water sources. They have adapted well. I am a little concerned about the lack of livestock. I have seen only four (nervous) cows. Michele saw another one near the airport. I think his name was Craig. But there are cats everywhere. I've noticed a guilty look from the waiters when they put your veal or beef dish on the table. Just saying.

The rain set in on Tuesday, so we thought that indoor activities would be a good idea. We took the "electric car" up to Fort Elmo, to see The Malta Experience and visit the war Museum inside the fort. I was excited. This is all around my book, the place where all the action took place in 1565. Our electric car man was mad, singing "all by myself" as we climbed the steep streets in the first taxi I have been in with tent zips.

 The Malta Experience was good, a pretty interesting film covering the history of the country. The museum was good, but I can't help but compare everything to Washington DC and the Smithsonians. I want drama. The history of Malta is so fascinating. I knew so little about this place, yet I have known so many Maltese over the years. (There are more Maltese in Australia than in Malta). They have a lot to be proud of. The country was awarded the George Cross for bravery in WW2 when more bombs were dropped on it than on the whole of the UK during the Battle of Britain. It was the Maltese locals who were heroes of the 1565 siege as well and it was their heroism that evicted the French in 1798 -1800, when Napoleon tried to take over. Not a bad track record. Probably a few Mario/Jeff/Rita Fenech types in the middle of all that stuff. The best part of the museum/fort was the chapel where the last of the Knights were slaughtered trying to defend the altar at the very last. It is pretty much as it was. The rain added to the atmosphere. Lots of death has surrounded this stone fort and it has been so significant in the history of the country. Good stuff.

Had a delicious dinner, the best yet. I take back my comment about the beef. This steak was a real cracker and I got to tell the chef. He was chuffed.