How to Avoid the Pitfalls: Traveling to a random and unfamiliar place without planning or researching in advance can sometimes lead to deeply rewarding and spontaneous actions adventures. Malta is not one of these destinations.
Our fanciful decision to visit this Mediterranean the island brought misery to rain on us as soon as we arrived. While we finally got our trip back to this surreal country, our misadventure serves better as a cautionary tale on how not to discover Malta.
the Malta The trip started, fairly well, with a bit of spam in September. I received an email from Ryan Air, one of the low-cost airlines in Europe, offering return tickets Malta from our house Toulouse, Franceplus a three day car rent for only $ 112. With only a cursory discussion between me and my wife, I booked the tickets for mid-November, thinking that we deserve a adult escape our teens.
Rather than to search carefully Malta, I decided it would be fun to improvise. The trip itself was a Random idea, why not leave fate to take us where would it be?
Here is what i knew Malta before us left: It had become a gaming paradise in Europe thanks to fragmentary tax rules. A questionable program selling passports had made it a refuge for Russia elite. These two things crossed to make Malta a popular destination for online gaming companies. Oh, and just a few weeks before our trip, a Maltese journalist investigating finances Corruption was killed by a car bomb.
Despite this reputation as a pirate, I chose to ignore many others panels trouble before left. I casually mentioned to some French friends we were going Malta, having hung cheap Airline company tickets and a rental car. A of them gave me a questioning look and said, "Have you rented a car?" Sure Malta? You know, I hired a driver for only $ 20 a day. May be you should hire a driver. You don't want to continue Malta. "
Rent a driver? Please. We are not the type people whose income bracket places them in the ranks of those who hire drivers for their vacation. Also, the idea of having someone with us all weekend, tapping their feet impatiently while we were walking or stopping to eat, seemed totally unpleasant. I didn't want to spend the long weekend managing a employee as we explored the lush landscapes a bucolic Mediterranean Island nation.
I had stolen Ryan Air previously. But somehow the previous experience never really prepares feeling knees crushed in the seat in front. Ryan Air managed to take the concept travel on a budget and add a layer of misery. Whether it's the cost of food, the expensive coffee powder served in a styrofoam cup or the hawking of lottery tickets flight, the discomfort doesn't really capture the experience.
After landing at Malta airport and spouting out of the narrow seats, I walked with confidence car rental lot. I was not discouraged by the fact roll left here, a legacy of his status like a British colony. As the car rental the employee gave me the keys, however, he offered a cryptic warning in the form of a question: "Are you sure you want to do this?" I spent a minute or two trying to find out if he was kidding. He was not.
Before Malta, I had established a clear hierarchy of terrible Conductors. At High from the list is Italy, where there seems to be somefree attitude about conduct ridiculous gears regardless of others Conductors that suggests people don't really think about live or pass away when they get behind the wheel. Second East Boston, or Conductors are hyper-aggressive and have invented a full set of rules known only by themselves. Then there is France, or Conductors get mad if you don't follow the rules while paradoxically insisting on the fact rules intrudes on their freedom.
None of them compare to the terror of driving in Malta. The people of this country have armed their vehicles, so that every second on the road looks like a scene from Death Race 2000. From the moment I inserted the key and started the car, I felt that someone had painted a giant target on our car. A few minutes after removing the parking at the airport lot, I was convinced that each person Isle was trying to kill me.
Cars spun to remarkable gears, ping pong between tracks. Signage did not seem to exist and conduct too slow seemed like a capital offense like Conductors appeared to be surgically attached to the horns of their car. We barely traveled a mile before my wife grabbed the sides of her seat and we were yelling at each other.
Here's a fun fact I wish I had known in advance: Between 2010 and 2017, car-related deaths decreased in all EU countries except Malta. Indeed, car deaths have increased by 18% since 2001. And although the death rate in Malta is lower than the European average, this is also misleading as it is much higher in the urban area where we drive. This is not insignificant.
Here's another fun fact I wish I had known in advance: Malta is the most densely populated country in the European Union with 3,000 inhabitants per square mile compared to 85 per square mile in the United States. It appeared to us that each thumb of land had been paved with a road system designed by a drunkard Willy Wonka.
we lost any sense of direction on roads that turn and turn for no obvious reason. At one point, we were conduct along a modest stretch of of them- track road that made passable impression of a Highway when it suddenly shrunk to a Single track a few inches wider than the car. Tight between giant Stone walls, we had retract side mirrors and hold our breath to make sure we could get through.
Google Maps seemed to rely on The data it was not update since 1959, which made us follow a route which promised at to take us somewhere only to be faced with an impasse. There was no obstruction. It looked like someone had start build a road, then abandoned. After two hours of conduct to reach our B&B in the town from Naxxar who was only 8 miles of airport, we have had run by blasphemy and had to invent new ones manners to communicate our stratospheric levels of stress.
When I say town, I know there is indeed such a place which stands out geographically as Naxxar. But during the drive, nothing had allowed to distinguish a place of the following. To our eyes, there was only one endless development, with cities bleeding into each other. The signs seemed to indicate that, yes, we had arrived at Naxxar, but where it started and ended, I couldn't say.
Unfortunately, the delay in our arrival finally allowed us to reach the city at an embarrassing moment which fell long after the cafes closed for the afternoon but too early for an evening meal. We were hungry so we parked and started wandering around looking for something that looked like a downtown area where a bakery could still be opened. Naturally, it had started to rain, so we went around in circles for almost an hour before finally finding a small shop selling fatty pastries. Sitting on a bench, sullenly eating, we watched cars go by at breakneck speed while taking stock of my growing pile of regrets and my wife's resentful gaze.
Chapel 5 Suitespop
Finding our B&B turned out to be another adventure. Parking is theoretical. Driving through the narrow, medieval streets of Naxxar provided another breathtaking experience. It took us 30 minutes to find a parking space which we were only legally certain of. But at that time, I felt ready to pay any parking fines that might come just to be away from the car for several hours.
Our luck started to change as soon as we arrived at our B&B, Chapel 5 Suites. Run by a charming British couple, Malcom and Alex, the inn offered a mix of carefully decorated rooms that work on the small side but are warm and welcoming. We stayed in the "Violet" room upstairs, which included a four-poster bed and a sofa of the same color. A spiral staircase led to a rooftop patio.
After settling down a bit, we went downstairs where Alex seemed to recognize the feeling of horror hiding behind our eyes. "We are in hell," said our faces. "How to get out?" We told our tale of unhappiness, and after the confessional, she offered much-needed advice to turn the situation around.
The other Malta
Our second day in Malta was more enjoyable, although we made another fundamental mistake by overcompensating for our first lost day. As such, we packed our itinerary which created this feeling of rushing and relaxation.
Through Alex's orientation session, we learned that Malta is not, in fact, a wasteland. We were on the main south island, which is oval in shape and spans about 33 miles. Until now, we had mainly driven along the eastern part. But in recommending a place to hike, Alex advised us to head west from Naxxar. Indeed, not far from the city, we started to see plots of green roads and less numerous which combined to lighten our mood.
In 20 minutes, we could see the fortress town of Mdina where we stopped quickly. Walking through the walled city that was once the capital, we began to get a sense of the long and twisted history of this island nation. Thanks to its strategic location in the middle of the Mediterranean, Malta has been invaded by just about every colonial power imaginable. Mdina was founded by the Phoenicians on the 8th e century BC
Its limestone walls were built and rebuilt as it passed from the Roman Empire to the Byzantine Empire to the Muslim occupiers to the Catholic regime to the French and then to the British. Basically, Malta has been the punching bag of history and its tangle of cultures and place names shows the rich diversity of this heritage.
Perhaps it was better captured by our next pit stop a few kilometers further down the road. We stopped for food for a picnic and parked next to Sainte-Marie, a Catholic church with elements of Baroque and Byzantine architecture and sat on the road Għar Bittija in the city of Ħad-Dingli.
Sandwiches in hand, we drove another 15 minutes and reached the coast and the cliffs of Dingli, which had a weak Irish sound in my ears. We parked in front of the Sainte-Marie-Madeleine chapel, a simple stone structure nicknamed the "cliff chapel".
From there, we walked south for about an hour along a path that rewarded us with a view of the cliffs that fell directly into the Mediterranean. We have been in Malta for almost 24 hours, although it was like 72 hours. But now, finally, we had a glimpse of the green island that we had imagined when we first booked this trip months earlier.
Alas, the route called us. On our to-do list, we found a spa and Alex had suggested the Corinthian Palace. Back in our car, we drove east, eventually leaving behind minimalist country roads for the uproar of the urban suicide bomber in Malta.
After surviving several accidents with the nation's suicidal drivers, we managed to park and enter the luxury hotel and navigate the various columns and statues of Greek influence to find the spa. An hour of rotation between the hammam, the jacuzzis and the swimming pools seemed well deserved by this point. After the cocooning, we left ready to tackle our final destination of the day.
Visit Valletta
The nation's modern capital sits on a peninsula that protrudes from the eastern edge of the island. The surrounding landscape on the water is occupied by soaring luxury buildings and harbors full of yachts. On one side of the walled city, a huge cruise ship filled the water and the sky. But once inside Valletta, we crossed a city that could defend itself against one of the most romantic capitals of Europe.
Valletta was founded on the 16th e century by the Knights of St. John, a Catholic sect that once ruled the nation. We walked around the ramparts for about 45 minutes, enjoying the view of the sea and the hilly streets of the city.
At nightfall, we sat down for a drink in a square in front of the Baroque Saint-Jean church, just in time for happy hour. Although our notion of what 2-for-1 means turned out to be different from that of our Maltese server. We each ordered a glass, thinking we had to pay for one. Instead, the waiter brought 4 huge cocktails, a special 2 for 1 for each of us. Around the middle of the first, we were already feeling the effects of the generous ration of alcohol and made the painful but careful decision to give up the rest and move on to dinner.
We booked at Dimitri's, a highly rated bistro that offers an intimate setting. The tables with marble tops were close together, just a few in each room. We sat across from the open kitchen and ordered a few glasses of wine. The meal that followed included the garlic rabbit for me and the chorizo and broccoli pasta for Jen. Both were exceptional and gave us a satisfying and relaxing end to our second day of whirlwind.
The other piece of advice that someone dropped before our trip, and which I ignored, was that we should head to the northern island of Gozo in Malta after landing. On the third day, we finally did it. This advice is the best I can offer if you are going to Malta: Get out and go to Gozo.
From our B&B, we drove north early Saturday morning towards the ferry terminal. Along the way, we passed on additional evidence of the strangeness of Malta: Popeye's Village. Those of a certain age will remember the curiously bizarre musical film of 1980 Popeye with Robin Williams and Shelly Duvall. Director Robert Altman built not only a few sets, but the entire village of Sweetwater for the film.
The film was a modest success which came and went, but the village remains. Today, you can pay € 16 to wander the streets and mingle with actors playing villagers, including Popeye and Olive Oyl. Perhaps even more improbable, Popeye Village is available for wedding reservations where one can fulfill a dream of getting married in a cartoon dream country that undoubtedly includes champagne and lots of spinach. Alas, this discovery came about two decades too late for us.
We skipped the village of Popeye.
The 30-minute ferry ride brought us to the port on the southeast corner of Gozo. When we left the ferry, the first site we encountered was two young boys riding a small cart pulled by a donkey. We were in the right place.
Driving west, we drove along the seaside views, rarely passing another vehicle. The roads were few, so logical and easy to follow. We arrived in the town of Xlendi where we parked and left for a hike that started from the turquoise waters of the bay.
An easy path climbed slightly and in 20 minutes we walked along a ridge with a panoramic view. An hour's hike to the southeast brought us to the sunset over the cliffs of Sanap. Rising almost 400 feet above the sea, this corner is a popular choice for watching what the name suggests. We arrived around noon, but the view was still magnificent, so blindingly beautiful that our hearts began to find room to forgive Malta. Finally, a wind of luck was blowing at a rate that we could really stop and savor.
We followed a circular path to return to our car in Xlendi, then continued driving along the western part of Gozo, enjoying the emptiness and peaceful landscapes. The main city of Gozo, Victoria, offered no temptation. Instead, an hour's drive was enough to get to the north end of the island.
After parking, we started walking along the shore and arrived at the salt marshes of Gozo. These rows of squares resemble a chessboard placed right by the sea. They date back to 18 e century and are still used today. When the waves break on the squares or the pans, there is water and the salt ends up settling on the bottom. Locals periodically collect this salt, then take it to nearby caves to process it.
It is fascinating to think that someone, almost 350 years ago, on this isolated island, concocted such an elegant and ingenious system. And that he survived all this time, still doing the work, is no less amazing.
Our last trip this afternoon took us back to the ferry terminal, then to Malta and to our B&B to prepare for our return home the next day. I can't say if we have seen and experienced "real" Malta, or the best of what this little country has to offer. What I do know is that we survived our Maltese encounter, overcame my own idiocy and even managed to find pleasure in madness.
Chris O'Brien is an American journalist living in Toulouse, France. Before moving in 2014, he was based in Silicon Valley for 15 years, he wrote on technology and startups for the San Jose Mercury News and the Los Angeles Times. Currently, he is European correspondent for VentureBeat and freelancers for a wide range of publications.