We see our apartment in the daylight for the first time. Its very big. It didnt seem so big last night when we were wandering around in the pitch black backstreets trying to find it. Its on the top floor, and its got a massive terrace right above the seafront with excellent views out over Marsaskala Bay.
Were a bit tired after a long day of travelling, but we eventually manage to rouse ourselves and head off in search of lunch. We havent had breakfast, so Im hanging out for a large helping of hobz bil zeit, that delicious Maltese delicacy of crunchy fresh bread filled with olive oil, tomato paste and whatever else you decide you want to pack in there - olives, onions, capers, tuna, etc. Ive been hanging out for this since 2017, so Im starting to get a bit twitchy and desperate after the first half dozen or so cafes and restaurants we pass dont seem to have it on the menu. I begin to wonder whether were really in Malta; Issys relatives that we spent last night with looked real enough, but we hadnt seen them for a few years so I guess we mightnt
have noticed if theyd really just been well disguised Its hot, stinking hot, but we plough on undaunted. We hit gold at restaurant number seven. I think we might really be in Malta after all.
I head out for a session of happy snapping. The streets were near deserted in the heat of midday, but the locals are more than making up for this now. If you want to know whats really going on here, I suspect you could do worse than to pull up a pew anywhere along the foreshore and just tune in to the conversations going on all around you. Issy wonders whether we shouldnt just plonk ourselves down somewhere and wait for someone to start talking to us. Im sensing we mightnt have to wait very long. We mightnt understand much of what were being told, well me none, and Issy perhaps only slightly more, but at least wed feel like we were embracing the local scene.
The bays packed with boats, some of them fishing boats, but the majority pleasure craft. Our bathtub at home back in Melbourne looks like itd be bigger than at least half of them. Ive never
seen such small boats. I wonder where they go in these things; one small ripple and theyd capsize, and everyone on board would end up in the drink, although in this case everyone on board couldnt be more than one person. I cant see too many life savers in evidence anywhere here which is a bit worrying. Then again weve been hearing lots of yelling this afternoon from an enthusiastic water polo game in progress at the club a few hundred metres away along the waterfront, so maybe thats where the rescue crews hang out.
We head out for dinner. Most restaurants we try to get into are full. The sheep theory of restaurants does however seem to be doing its thing yet again; one massive bistro is nearly empty, but were running out of options, so we pull up a pew there anyway. The foods excellent. I‘m not sure why but I think theyre a bit desperate for customers; the owner gives us a voucher and tells us that if we back hell give us fifteen percent off, with a strong emphasis on the word ever. They also seem just a tad disorganised. They‘ve run out
of half the things on the menu, one dish we order never turns up, and they then cant tell us whats available for dessert. No problem with the latter however, they say theyll just concoct something sweet and serve it up. They then cant produce a coherent bill, but the food was good, and the asking price doesnt seem totally unreasonable, so I guess everyone can go away happy. I pity the poor sod who has to reconcile their books.
