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.
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