Wednesday 13 January 2010

Wednesday 13th started with me not wanting to get out of bed, I’m on holiday I can stay in bed till I want, I tell myself, but I overcome the lazy part of my brain, eventually getting to the gym before 8am, ten minutes stepper, sixty curls, twenty roman chair sit ups, so feeling better about myself, plus a quick dip in the pool

A good breakfast, I even go without toast, have to get back in shape, I’ve decide today to visit Mdina and Rabat from what I have read these should be very interesting places to explore.

Having inquired I learn I shall need to take two buses to reach my destination, off to the jetty I go to catch the first these buses, after a while along comes the number 48, after the driver takes a ten minute break, I tell him I wish to go to the terminus he asks for one Euro sixteen, that’s twice what I paid to visit Valletta and that took an hour, so logic tells me I’m in for a long trip something around two hours, so I fit my ear plugs in and settle down to listen to my Mp3 player, off we go within a few hundred yards I realise I’m on a bus that has square wheels because every bone in my body is being given a cocktail shaking, at every turn in the road I feel like a rag doll, I’m going to need an osteopath at the end of this journey, I have to smile to myself as one of the songs I’m listening to is “Somebody help me” by Spencer Davies.

Before I know it we pull into the terminus, I look at my watch this can’t be right it’s only been thirty five minuets, I feel cheated!

While waiting for my connecting bus I purchase a three day bus pass for just over nine euros, now I will have to get out and about to get good value for money, so it’s on to the 86 buses to Rabat, the day had been overcast from the beginning but what’s this it’s raining, still not to worry I think.
Not long and were in Rabat, but this is real rain the sort that gets into your bones before you know it, but I’m made of sterner stuff I tell myself plus the fact I’m wearing my combat trousers, so off I go down a side street.

I see a Roman ruin across the road, take a quick look through the wire fence, then move on and find myself in a cemetery as always when aboard I’m struck with the tradition of displaying pictures of the deceased, I walk looking at each plaque and noting the age these people passed away at, I’m really struck by how many were younger than me, should I work out more or less I think to myself, then I for some reason decide to find someone who made it to a hundred or more, why ? You tell me! I don’t find one, the pictures make this so personal almost as if they are reaching out to you, don’t forget me, you can almost hear them say, at this very moment I think of my late uncle Albert on my fathers side who’s picture is reaching out to people back in London, he passed away in 1985 aged just 54.

It now dawns on me my feet feel damp, this is silly I’m getting soaked, it’s raining cat’s and dog’s and any other animal you care to name, if I don’t get myself in the dry soon I could be staying in the cemetery as a resident.
So I retrace my steps back to the hotel, thinking I shall return a bit like General McArthur in the Philippines, take a quick shower to warm up then sit in the lounge with a stiff drink and start reading my book, an hour passes then a glint of sunlight pierces the gloom, it’s stopped raining, do I stay or do I go, go is the answer after all I have that bus pass to use.

Changed back into outdoor clothes and out the door inside fifteen minuets, good time to visit that red Tower I saw on the first day, so it’s on the bus and off again within six minuets.
Now there is a long winding path up to the Tower I’m feeling good so I start to jog the feeling soon passes, this is some incline much further than I at first thought, in fact very soon I’m finding it hard to breath, this is like being on the upper slopes of Everest soon I’m going to need oxygen!
Turning round to look behind me the view is stunning, I stop to take a few snaps, then return to the climb the wind is growing stronger it’s hard to stay on my feet.
Reach the Tower I ascend the steps only to find the doors locked, I thought it was open till 16.00pm on reading the notice board again that was Tuesday it’s Wednesday now and it closed two and one half hours ago at 13.00pm, but still the view was worth the climb I tell myself.

Back down Everest to the bus stop I have my old swagger back now, now it’s down hill, It would be a good idea to go into Melliena and take a look at the World War 2 air raid shelters.
On and off the bus again Melliena is high up overlooking the bay below, has a really beautiful church but it’s the air raid shelters I’ve come to see so onwards and upwards literally, eventually I follow the signs and find my way to the shelters it’s now four in the afternoon, and they closed at three thirty! Suddenly I feel I have a better title for my book “I went to Malta, it was closed!!

Return to the hotel and treat myself to a Baileys, then shower and change for dinner, good selection of food to choose from again, I go for the duck in forest fruit sauce, and it’s a winner.

Sitting in the lounge beavering away on this work of art, Cyril announced there was to be a quiz, brilliant I thought that will get the brain cells active again, people start to form into groups, I spot a guy sat on his own and inquire if he minds if I join him his name is Sandy from Hamilton in Scotland he invites me to take a seat.

Cyril tells us all to put our name and room numbers on the top of the quiz sheet he has handed out, the subject of the quiz will be “biscuits‘” Sandy gives me a look as if to say what? there are twenty questions and off we go, it’s all very cryptic, for instance the clue to the second question is “a shade of green Mr President” for some reason knowing some of my American Presidents is going to get us the answer “Lincoln” Sandy keeps telling me “I know nothing about biscuits‘” we shall finish last, I’m reasonably sure we have the right answers to the first four questions, but it will be an up hill battle there are some teams with ten members, and Sandy knows nothing about biscuits!!

Very soon we are struggling for answers, Queen Victories favourite, I ask Sandy is there a biscuit called Albert? He doesn’t know ( it turns out the answer was Osborne) we finish up with nine out of twenty were not last that’s all that matters I tell myself.

Quiz over we settle down to listen to Cyril and Monica’s choice of music, I get into conversation with Sandy he is a tad younger than me I thought he was older but then again I would, Sandy has been to Malta several times, he then tells me he has terminal cancer, what on earth can you say in this sort of a situation I blurt out well your making the best of it, just then Cyril says it’s time for a fox trot, my turn to say what! Sandy starts to explain to me what an easy dance this is I tell him Sandy I don’t care how good you think it is I’m not dancing with you!
Sandy tells me he used to be in a music group in the late sixties playing guitar, and you know the fox trot I say, he then goes on to tell me he had broken his back a few years ago causing him to loose two inches in height, he asks me to feel his back, I point out to people on the next table this is purely scientific and I’m not interested in him in any way.

The evening moves on people get up and start dancing, then out of the blue living next door to Alice booms out I don’t know why but hearing a bunch of Geriatric’s singing the Chubby Brown version of this song somehow does not sound right, like hearing Snow White using the F word!

The next dance is the twist, now many moons ago this was my dance, never confident on the dance floor, but the twist was another story, just my luck that the twist craze died out inside six months, but to be honest I was still tempted to get up and make a complete fool of myself, well I’ve had enough fun for one day so it’s off to bed.