Deeper Into Malta

We set out (late) in the morning for M'dina, a city walled by Arab conquerors containing perfectly preserved 17th century architecture -- the result of a rebuilding following one of Malta's many earthquakes. There were arguments with Nigel about the route; again we had to unplug him.

Because M'dina is so popular, we parked at the bottom of a hill (or mountain, depending on whom you ask) outside town and walked up and in, through a massive gate, along with many selfie-stick toting tourists. Our wanderings took us to the Duomo and its ecclesiastical museum. In the museum, there was an extraordinary display of Durer woodcuts and engravings -- several dozen at least. They were beautifully detailed, most on religious subjects.


We came across several weddings; apparently M'dina is a wedding destination. We also got to hear a marching band complete with accordion.


Then after lunch, we left to drive to the Dingli cliffs. As we found so often in Malta, traveling short distances -- in this case, three miles -- entailed innumerable roundabouts, missteps, and close

encounters on narrow roads. (Also, quite a bit of profanity.) Happily, the cliffs were splendid, dropping sheer to the sea from well over 100 meters, and rewarding us with glorious views on a perfectly clear day. However, this was the place where we learned why it is not a good idea to pick up a ripe prickly pear fruit from the ground and eat it. We are still picking the prickles out of our lips and tongues days later.

We'd been told by our hotelier in Kalkara that a festival would be occurring in the neighboring town of Burgu, and parking might be challenging. We got back in time to pull up in front of the hotel just as the crowds were descending for Burgu Day (or maybe some saint's day, we never did figure it out). It seemed to consist of every Maltese on the island walking up and down in the main street, in throngs, while vendors sold pastries, fried rabbit, and nougat and a local band played very bad versions of Adele and Mumford & Sons

songs. Candles were lit over the massive fortress that guards the town, and were displayed in every window. We were even able to have a night tour of the Inquisitor's Palace -- the Baroque palazzo where the Pope's envoy lived when he was sent to keep the naughty Knights of St. John in line.

We finished the night with octopus and raviolis across the harbor from the madness of Burgu, watching the fireworks and listening to the faint sounds of Adele's "Someone Like You" sung with a  Maltese accent.

Our final day in Malta took us to Hagar Qim, a mysterious archeological site on the other side of the island -- almost 20 miles (but at least an hour) away. The site includes two monolithic stone temples perched on the edge of the sea built around 3600 b.c.. by an unnamed and unknown group of Aboriginal Maltese (the same group who liked big butts, and I do not lie). The circular arrangement of both temples was constructed to take advantage of the solstice sun rays, as Stonehenge was at least 1500 years later. In addition to a museum, this national site featured an introductory 4-D video, including thunder, lightning, rain, and smell-o-rama.

Our next stop (and we did not, for once, get lost) was the Blue Lagoon a couple of miles down the road. It featurea two arching pillars of rock where the onrushing sea acquires a brilliant turquoise color as it washes against them.

What could bring our Maltese idyll to a more perfect conclusion than the national dish, long-deferred but now enjoyed? Rabbit -- sautéed with onions in white wine. One of us was very pleased. The other had rabbit and pasta, and gave most of the rabbit part to her husband.

On our way to the airport to fly to Sicily, we stopped at one of most

memorable sites in tiny Malta, and one of the most unspellable: Marsaxlokk, a fishing village whose harbor is filled with vividly painted boats that reflect the turquoise of the water in which they bob.

A strange, beautiful, slightly incomprehensible country.