Monday 25th Some days ago I went to the National Museum of Archaeology to book a ticket to visit Hal-Saflieni Hypogeum, and today is the day, visiting this place is strictly controlled, your given a day and even a time slot, and well betide you if you miss either, there are no refunds.
The hypogeum means underground chamber, in this case there was a temple on the surface and two chambers below, one underneath the other, they were built 5,000 years ago, for burying the dead.
I have to take two buses to get to the Hypogeum in to Valletta then catch anyone of the following, 8,11,13,15,or 27 almost a winning line on the lottery, my destination is in a town called Paola.
I get on my usual 45 for Valletta and from the start the bus is packed, it reaches a point of being as squashed as those proverbial fish, the only difference being that the Sardines have nothing to moan at, they have the oil to lubricate their discomfort, do Sardines say “as squashed as a 45 bus to Valletta”? we are so jam packed we no longer stop at anymore bus stops, we reach Mosta with it’s famous church dome, you can be miles away from here and still make out this dome on the horizon, I digress, on reach Mosta there is a mast exodus off the bus, it’s market day, all that discomfort, for a few bargains.
It’s lucky number eight bus to Paola for me and the driver “Charlie” will be good enough to tell me where to leave the journey, I pass though an area I have many times before but have never notice the name before, until now that is, Marsa is the name, and what’s striking about it is, you could me in another country, unlike any other part of Malta this one is full of African or people of African descent it is quite striking you are transported to the dark continent for just a few brief minutes as the bus flies, I think there must be an African university in the area as most carrying satchels’ as if they are off to study or returning.
I soon find my way to the hypogeum, they have built a purpose built structure over the site so it’s all under cover, and tightly controlled, no smoking, cameras, and they limit the amount of people who can enter at anyone time, hence the booking in advance, it would appear ten people per time is the quota.
After being booked in we have to deposit our bags in a cupboard that the guide locks, he then shows us into an area where we get to view a film show, these chambers were not discovered until 1902 when builders above broke through while sinking a shaft, these chambers pre date our own Stonehenge by 2,000 years that really is how impressive this is, the large majority of it is below ground, built out of solid stone, there were no metal or iron tools at this time, the whole complex is built using just other stone and antler horns, it is beyond my comprehension, what on earth did they do for adequate light, it is truly a marvel of engineering skill from 5,000 years ago, one chamber is known as the Holy of Holies, they even carved lintels and pillars out of the stone for no apparent reason it would seem than decoration, we are told that 7,000 bodies were buried here, it seems they left the bodies to rot then moved the bones into chambers.
In the Holy of Holies as well as the pillars and lentils there are a set of steps that lead downwards then suddenly stop with a sheer drop, it’s thought this was to trap trespassers, because in the darkness you would not realise you had run out of steps till it was too late.
Inside the chambers they found statues that have fondly become known as the “Fat ladies” one is the sleeping lady, the other the Maltese Venus, they are now on display in the Valletta museum, it is believed they may have been mother earth figures, in other words fertility.
It has been a very interesting visit, glad I took Sandy’s recommendation in doing this tour.
Back at the hotel there is a buzz of expectance today is Robert Burns birthday the Scottish poet, it has been arranged for Sandy to do the address to the Haggis a real Burns night is in the planning, who knows what other delights Cyril and Monica have in store.
Dinner time arrives and even the menu has a Scottish feel to it, there is Haggis being offered along with tatties, neeps, I try the haggis, I did once before was not impressed that time, now this is reasonably tasty, I’m sure it’s in no way authentic,
Cyril and Monica come down to dinner wearing tartan from head to foot, they look a picture, they do there best to involve everyone, my first thoughts of them have changed dramatically, they have hearts of gold.
They have talked me into wearing a kilt and have provided one of those “see you Jimmy” hats the ones with the ginger hair sewn inside, like the comedian Russ Abbott use to wear, now if your going to make a fool of yourself, you may as well go the whole hog, so they also get me some blue face paint and a tartan bow tie.
I paint half my face blue leaving a clear circle in the middle of my cheek and then paint a blue circle on the other cheek, for my sporran I cadged some string from reception and then tied and dangled a toilet roll from my belt, put on the bow tie, and some heavy duty hopped socks I had with me, then down the stairs I go, before I know it I’m lined up with Cyril and Monica for a photo opportunity for half the hotel, now I know what it must be like to be surrounded by the paparazzi, can you lift your leg? Turn this way? Lets have a smile.
Later in the evening it’s time to parade the haggis in, a woman dressed in tartan carries the home made facsimile of a haggis on a tray into the entertainment area followed by Sandy with Cyril and Monica bringing up the rear, then the woman hold the haggis aloft while Sandy goes into this wonderful tribute written by Burns, he really goes for it in a big way, while the large majority of us do not have a clue what he’s on about, there is no denying he is doing it with passion and panache, again the paparazzi are in full flow cameras clicking everywhere, he finishes to great applause it has been a triumph for him, he is a nice guy and deserves his moment in the spot light, we all carry on in the spirit of the occasion, a good night was enjoyed by most I’m sure, then it’s time for bed but first I must remove the paint, I make the mistake of not taking most of it off with a tissue, I go straight for soap and water, and even after many minutes of washing I appear to have more on than when I started, I have to resort to a full shower, frightened to get into bed in case I’ve missed some and turn the bed sheets blue.
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