Monday 18 January 2010

Monday 18th straight out of the bed, now come on get down that gym. I step on the scale, half a stone increase since I last stood on them four days ago, with all the walking I’m doing! Yes and all the eating your doing I think. I hardly eat between breakfast and evening meal apart from the odd roll or pasty, no midday meal, what’s going on, is the “Blob” feeding himself when I’m not looking? I get on and do the first set of arm curls, then off with the tee shirt eyes closed and on the stepper. A few minutes into my routine, the door opens and a youngish cleaner of African origins enters to sweep and mop. Now here’s some good advice never try using a stepper and also try holding your stomach in at the same time, it’s excruciating believe me. I think she’s gone so relax, then she returns, deep breath. Finally I’m alone I cut short at six minutes and not the ten I planned. Sit ups, second set of curls, then Carol Bayer Sager comes on the Mp3 singing “Your moving out” inspired again I jump back on the stepper and complete that ten minutes.

I go for breakfast and conscious of my weight try rice crispies instead of sugar puffs, like eating sawdust, won’t do that again. Then take one sausage and not two, I have not made a pig of myself, I stopped having toast days ago. There is also fruit available, the food here is excellent.

I have no real plans for the day, the weather will dictate what I decide. Today it’s overcast with a rainy look about it, I’ve heard about Anchor bay (close by is where they shot the film “Popeye” with Robin Williams), so that’s the plan. I hear I will find it close to Melliena, sign posted off one of the traffic Islands. I catch the bus with eyes peeled for Islands, I see one and jump off. No Anchor bay here. So I walk on a bit and jump on another bus. Off again but still no luck, then I see an information board it’s on the other side of the Island from where I am!
I retrace my steps bus wise, and head back to the centre of Melliena and try the air raid shelters again. I walk down the street towards where it is, thinking please be open this time, and it is praise be. As I enter there is a wizened old Maltese chap sat on a rickety old chair no mod cons here, I pay my two Euros thirty and head down the main passage, it’s lit well enough for you to see where your going. I can hear sounds but I can’t make out if there other people in here? Off the main passageway there are side chambers, some have props in them old beds, tables, manikins and the like. One passageway leads off to another, this is far larger than I could have ever imagined. I start taking pictures but soon realise that it is a waste of time taking the passageways as the flash will not penetrate further than a few yards in the gloom. All the pictures look the same, I will just concentrate on the chambers.
One chamber has the manikin of a priest sat with a bible, there are sound effects, so that’s what I could hear. I turn round and nearly jump out of my skin on a ledge above me is another manikin, there appears to be three entrances to the shelter excluding the one I entered, they are all roped off. This must have been a massive undertaking it has been chiseled out of solid rock, I exaggerate not you could get a few thousand people down here at a push. I’m sure if you were in danger of your life from dropping bombs you would not be moaning about how much room you needed.
It is quite eerie down here and I am the only one visiting at present, more chambers and more manikins, it has been well worth a visit to see what other generations had to endure.

It was third time lucky finding the shelters open, will my luck hold for the Red Tower? I set off to find out. I'm off up the gradient again, soon puffing and panting, where did my fitness go? As I turn the bend is that a flag I can see? I had been told by other guests it’s only open when the flags flying, well it is, one Euro fifty can’t moan about that. Once inside I find the real name is Saint Agatha’s Tower, named after a woman who had both her breasts hacked off by her rejected admirer and was then burnt at the stake. I think we get the point he did not take rejection well!
It is one of thirteen towers built by the Grand Master of the time Lascaris in 1647 that are spread the length of the Island to warn against invasion. It was manned by four troops in peaceful times but forty nine in times of alarm. I climb the spiral stair way to the top, the view is spectacular, the guy on ticket duty said it was restored in 2000 but no one knows why it was painted red. I would hazard a guess it was a look out tower that had to communicate with other look out towers, you wouldn’t want it to blend into the background would you? Or is that too obvious?

It was a good job I did not meet this guy on my first day, he was British over here again on holiday, and likes to act as a volunteer by opening the Tower and selling the tickets and handing out information about the building and anything else he can help you with. Very laudable, but he then started taking to me about the Maltese who he did not have a high regard for, not interested in their own heritage, let their monuments fall into disrepair, think they can visit here without paying because they are Maltese. Then he gets onto the buses and their drivers, belching out foul black smoke due to mixing the fuel with muck to make it go further, and most of the drivers are ignorant and very rude, and the people on the land around the Tower are really objectionable. Now had I met him on that first day he might well have coloured my thinking of what lay ahead, because other than the landowners who I’ve never met, the large majority of people and drivers have been polite and helpful.

I make my way back by conventional transport, this time bus, not overland exploration.

Once back at the hotel I take a couple of hours out for feet up time, hoping the knee will settle down. The weather seems to have brightened up late afternoon. I get my second wind put on my sturdy shoes and decide to explore the surrounding area. I turn right out of the hotel walk to the end of the road, it turns out to be the end of the Island, so I come back and walk to the rear of the hotel, far more promising. Soon I’m walking along the cliff edge, there's about a hundred foot drop I would guess. Below and in the distance I see a small bay with some amenities so I plan to head for there - should take about twenty five minutes is my estimation. The walk is as before (Red Tower) rocky underfoot but in better footwear and no slope to contended with is far easier. Eventually I get there to find an upside down sign proclaiming Paradise Bay, there is some sort of a beach bar there but it is obviously locked up for the winter. Its deserted, it is quite pleasant now, warm enough to remove my fleece. I take a few snaps, then notice a swarm or is it shoal or some other description of Jelly fish, this must be common because I also see a notice board warning what to do if stung, wash with sea water not unsalted water, also apply alcohol to the infected area. I think stick a dead one in my mouth and run into the bar of the hotel, see if they pour drink down my throat for free, some hope. After a further few minutes I make my way back to base, adventures over for the day.

Back in the Hotel I’m sitting having a few drinks when a really hip woman who’s name I later learn to be Irene joins me, I also later learn she is (or close to being) eighty, but sharp as a knife. She asks me a few questions about myself, then Cyril starts handing out quiz sheets, not biscuits again I think, no and it’s not Cyril’s quiz, another guy staying at the hotel has put together a quiz on Malta. It is Irene’s first time here and mine, so initially we are not going to do it, after all we are up against a table of five woman who have been coming for the last fifteen years, some chance we’ll have. The quiz starts and the guy running it barks out the rule and what he will and wont stand for, he could give Fidel Castro a run for his money as a dictator power crazed or what.

The questions start and I think why just sit here so I’ll fill in the answers with the first thought that comes in to my head. Name the three cities he asks , McDonalds, Burger King, and Pizza Hut I answer, this gives Irene a laugh and before I know it she has taken over, what is the name of the eye that is a symbol often seen on the Island? Spec savers she answers, we go on in this vain for the sixteen questions, Irene is a little worried the others may see our flagrant disregard for protocol and quickly folds the paper up and secrets it inside the book she is reading as Cyril approaches.

Quiz over now it’s time for bingo, Mike of M&S fame joins us, are you going to play he asks. After him telling me just how much he has won I have visions of carry piles of gold and silver back to my room like the conquistadors leave south America. So I’m sucked in, far from winning I end up four Euros down. I swear Irene and Mike to secrecy to the fact I was ever there let alone played bingo!

Off I go to get ready for evening meal. I have lamprey, then retire to the lounge to do a little writing and later listen to the Maltese guy who was here last week playing the guitar and singing. He is not to bad at all, then it’s trying to send my emails through Facebook (a total nightmare), if it’s not being able to connect to the hotel WIFI it’s not being able to get Facebook to work properly. If I see one more “Oops sorry try again” I’ll throw the laptop in the swimming pool, except I’ve only just bought it. I turn in for the night exasperate beyond belief I’m supposed to be relaxing, bloody technology.