Saturday 23rd It’s up and at them, breakfast over by 7.45am on the bus by 8.05 bound for, you guessed it Valletta, I intend to squeeze the last drop out of my seven day bus ticket it expires at 9.12, I get on the 45 in the harbour, first time ever it has been almost full from the off, loads of Maltese get on from the Gozo ferry off to work, we fly passed the first few stops, would appear I’m the only holiday maker up and ready at this time, the funny thing for me is it’s reasonably warm with a fleece on but when the Maltese got on they were visibly cold, try a British winter I think to myself.
More locals get on the bus, exchanging nods and smiles, and then it dawns on me I’ve seen this before but have yet to comment on it, I have a great affection for these buses as you will have gathered, but many Maltese have very little faith in them, otherwise why are most of them making the catholic sign of the cross no taking their seats, do they know something I don’t? I arrive in Valletta at 9.12 to the second my ticket expired, planning or what?
Today I will find the Lascaris war rooms, I see sings about Valletta but as yet have had very little joy in locating them, the signs appear to take you so far then abandon you to your own devises, when in doubt the old adage ask a police man comes in handy, so I do, he tells me it’s down that road on the right, I look at the road, by the bus terminus I reply, no before that, well I had just walked up that very road, and not for the first time, if this is such an historic site, how come I see no sign posts on that road, back down it I go again, still no joy, I ask a local, he tries to tell me it’s on the other side of the Island, even I know it’s not, did he think I was a German?
Wandering around determined to find it, I come across a travel guide and her group, she’ll know thinks I, she tells me where she thinks it is, but not the direction of the signs, so I thank her and totally ignore her advice, I see another police man, let’s try again, they are closed he says, for how long I ask, indefinably says he, for renovation! So that’s why there were no further signs.
It turns out I’m on the door step of Barrakka gardens as I enter through the arch way, I’m struck by it’s serenity, and the views of Valletta harbour are truly splendid, another reason for today’s visit was to see if I could hook up to WIFI I had noticed some days earlier while visiting the Malta experience film show, that the café attached and part of premises advertised a free WIFI hotspot, so I make my way there in anticipation, arriving I purchase a few goodies, coffee, coca cola, sprite, minstrel chocolates, thinking I wont look like a free loader, to be told that the WIFI area is outside the café anyway.
I make myself comfortable and try connecting, immediate access achieved, not a problem, I manage to view two weeks of emails, the lottery win I had hoped for was not amongst them, I spend a good thirty minutes doing all I wanted to, all this proves is that the hotel WIFI for which they charge five Euros for a hundred minutes in as much use as a chocolate fireguard, I have wasted close on six hours being connect then disconnected for nearly two weeks, when in Malta visit this hotspot that’s my advice.
I set off back into the centre of the city, it’s close to noon now, they fire the midday cannon from Barrakka gardens every day, I have yet to see this spectacle, now would be a good time, I hurry there, on arriving I can pay four Euros and go down to the lower level where the cannons are situated or stay on the top level and look down with all the other cheap skates, I pay my money for a birds eye view and better photographic opportunities, I’m not disappointed, the cadets in their blue uniforms with red piping and what appear to be white pith helmets look impressive, they go through their military routine with absolute precision as you would expect, the cannon goes off with a tremendous bang as the bells of the churches ring out their twelve chimes, glad I chose to see it, I’m one of only three people who bothered to pay.
A quick walk round and I’m back at the WIFI hotspot for a little more emailing, the weather is beautifully warm now, as I take my seat I notice a guy who is obviously German by his voice being interview by a young lady doing a survey, this guy really does think a lot of himself, I can hear him blabbering on, in fact it’s hard not to hear him, businesses here there and everywhere London, Malta and Germany, her interviewing of him is soon reversed as he turns the tables and the chatting up begins, is she free tonight? No strings, he will show her an excellent time, he knows all the best places, yes he has plenty of girlfriends, I start taking real notice now it’s like a floor show, he is wearing a dark suit but has discarded the jacket over a chair, white shirt open all the way, I would think he was in his late thirties early forties maybe, bejewelled with fancy rings on both hands, and an array of bracelets of all sorts silver, jewelled ones, looks like a jewellery shop on legs.
He is trying to get her to give him her phone number, she asks for his, he uses the lame excuse I don’t know my number, would be easier for me to call you, she leaves, I’m not sure who has who’s number.
Just a few minutes pass when another young girl takes the vacant seat backing on to his, this guy is a serial operator, within seconds he has engaged her in conversation, she is Australian, the real amazement soon follows, her husband or boyfriend comes out of the café with food and drink and sits at the table with her, the German does not break stride, he still carries on chatting her up with complete indifference to her guy, he even phones up on of his many girlfriends his words, who is also Australian and passes his phone to her for them to speak, as if to prove he really does have a girlfriend.
The Husband/boyfriend is showing great restraint, because this went on for some ten to fifteen minutes, he now tells them he can show them a great time guaranteed , I hate to think what he means, he is on about night life he knows all the best nightclubs in Sliema (well of course I think) but very soon they make their excuses and leave, I did not see the guy kick her under the table, but I’m sure he wanted to.
I stay a little longer writing the warmth of the afternoon sunshine, there really is a good view of the harbour here.
Making my way back through Valletta at a quarter to three on a Saturday afternoon, it is hard to believe your eyes the capital is almost deserted, has there been an air raid warning? The place was a hive of activity just a few short hours ago, markets, shop buzzing, crowds milling, now the town is empty, like a western town waiting for the gunslingers to shoot it out.
I’m soon heading back to the hotel with a satisfied glow due to my success on the WIFI, it will be a quiet night after dinner, two guys on guitar are the entertainment, they play middle of the road music, it’s fit’s the age group I suppose.
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