Day 6 - Malta (Mdina, Rabat)

On the island of Gozo, there is a UNESCO World Heritage-designated citadel that during the medieval ages, protected the city. Today, the Mdina, as it's also called, still has 300 residents, and a number of restored churches, restaurants, shops. gelaterias, etc. On this day, we had the option of either visiting a Neolithic site (also UNESCO-protected) that was also nearby, but opted for the citadel...as a few large stones at the Neolithic site would have been fascinating, but I figured we'd gleam more from the large citadel and it would hold our interest longer. ;-)

The bus ride from Valletta took about 25 minutes by bus, but was a nice opportunity to get further away from the more densely populated areas and into the 'countryside.' It was pretty exciting to see the white limestone of the Mdina looming over us as we rode our way up to it.

This is a stock photo of the citadel, which I could not capture well from the bus we rode to the Rabat/Citadel area. I would give credit to the photographer if I could, but I have no idea who took this photo. It does a good job of capturing how it looms large above the nearby city of Rabat.

Entering the citadel

In the last decade, efforts were made to restore the walls surrounding the citadel and to remove the hundreds of wildly overgrown citrus trees that once filled the area and made it un-walkable. Today, there is grass (which has been criticized) and visitors can now wander around.

One of the first buildings we saw after walking into the Mdina was this glass shop - Mdina Glass. (And by some random, WONDERFUL quirk of photography, Rich managed to make me look 90 lbs!!! Brilliant!) This shop reminded me very much of Venice's vibrant, swirled Murano glass. It would have been easy to buy a few things to take back home, but they all appeared so fragile, that I can't imagine many make it home in one piece. Ryan and I were like ogling kids in a candy store, while Rich was...less enthralled?

After we tore ourselves away from the glass shop, it was difficult to decide which direction to wander in. Although there were a few tour buses there herding tourists around, most of the mdina was still very much quiet and empty. Wandering the narrow, stone walkways with tall walls on both sides of us reminded me very much of the ancient city of Fez, in Morocco. And for some reason, this particular beauty makes me happy. I feel equal parts wonder ("Who walked here 400 years ago?") and I'm-living-in-a-fairy-tale as I walk around these types of environments. It couldn't be more different from our beautiful home- jagged black lava rock, pounding blue surf and swaying green palm trees with coconuts, which is why I think I love it so much. It feels so exotic and foreign, it satiates that adventure gene I have in my bones.

At some point, my father and Rich wandered off and found a beautiful restaurant overlooking the citadel's walls, with 360 degree views of the island of Malta.

The restaurant was reserved for a large group coming in, so we couldn't get a lunch reservation, but the kind staff let us wander, gaze and take a few photos of the island below. And because I'm directionally-challenged to the core, when I asked what direction Valletta was, the server pointed in the exact opposite direction I'd guessed. Proof that not all travelers have a sense of direction. :-(

 

This photo made the annual Christmas card. ;-)

We spied another glass shop in the Mdina, so we had to take a tour!

After a few hours in the mdina, we walked over to the nearby city of Rabat (a scenic half mile walk, perhaps) in search of the renowned crypts there. After more than a few wrong turns, we eventually found the ones we were looking for.

We learned that the Romans suffered many plagues, and because Christians insisted on burying their dead (and not cremating them), they were required to build crypts far outside the city to avoid getting the general population ill. The underground, interconnected tombs are vast (and somewhat unsafe), so we saw less than 5% of the tombs owned by St. Agatha's.

The underground catacombs reminded me a tiny bit of the narrow, dark, uneven tunnels of Vietnam (Cu Chi) and the chiseled salt mines of Poland (where they carved a chapel out of salt for the miners). 

We saw crypts chiseled out of limestone (because it's a soft stone, they only took 4-5 hours to 'dig'/chisel one out for adults and babies). And despite going to the crypt that offered live tours in English (we were hoping to get more detail from a person than the pre-recorded audio tours of the nearby, more popular, commercialized site of St. Paul's), it was over pretty quickly. The entire tour lasted maaaaybe 20 minutes, and that included my incessant questions at the end that extended it another 5-7 minutes. I shouldn't complain- the tour is well-reviewed, as it's non-government/non-profit run (a church owns it), so it's not overly commercialized. But I also chose it because it was advertised as being the only one having colorful, original frescoes...and they were more of what I would generously call faded, blurred paintings (that might have been a fresco, or could have been an unattended naughty child on a tour with a paint set). Really hard to say. Either way, I have the art appreciation of a toddler, so I shouldn't judge.

Before the tour, Ryan asked me if we would see any skeletons. And because I have a history degree with a 3.9 GPA, and consider myself a history buff to this day, I confidently announced that no, no, noooo, silly...we would not. Unlike the catacombs of Paris from more recent history that were filled with bones, these catacombs were so much older. These skeletons from 4 AD would have surely have turned to dust many, maaaaany years ago. And not only that, the coffins were likely to be, you know, empty and/or closed. Just like tomb raiders emptied out every sarcophagus in Egypt leaving not so much as a pinky finger bone behind, so to would these catacombs be empty. So no worries, Ryan. Trust your mommy. You have nothing to fear.

Annnnd...yeah. To my humiliation and Ryan's chagrin...we saw...MANY sets of grinning skeletons, slowly waving at us and mouthing the word, "Ryyyyaaaan" as we walked by. I may have exaggerated that last part a bit, but Ryan was half-horrified.

Oopsie daisy. (But that's what you get from trusting a public school grad. Thanks, Obummer!*)

*Not really his fault, but Trump blames everything on him whenever he throws a toddler tantrum, so I do too now. It's very therapeutic.)

Although the tour was not quite what I'd hoped/expected, I was still glad we went.  After the tour, we had a rather comical lunch- we were promised the 'most delicious sandwiches in Rabat' by a most exuberant and pushy food server while wandering the meager dining offerings. This in and of itself should have been a huge red warning sign, but because the cafe allowed us to sit and dine with a view of beautiful St. Paul's Cathedral across the street, and we were starving (it was after 1pm), we decided to give it a try.

The sandwiches were so bad they were hilarious. I told Rich that even if I'd tried to make a worse sandwich, it would be difficult. The 'traditional Maltese' bread was hard and dry and flavorless, and each was filled with a tiny spoonful of tuna fish, a whole lot of shaved carrots, and one, quarter-sized, wilted, sad tomato slice that was dwarfed by the bread. My cheese sandwich had a single hard, slice of cheese that came from a dying, sad, anorexic cow that hadn't eaten in days. And to top it all off, our fibbing "Best sandwiches in Malta!" waitress tried to cheat us (the one and only person in all of the country who tried) by sneaking a few extra euro onto the tab. :-\ Meh. These things happen, they're pretty funny in hindsight.

Dessert wasn't much better, we stopped at a bakery across the street advertising 'traditional Maltese cannoli' and gave it a try. Because they don't call me the Cannoli Queen for nuthin'. (No one has ever called me the Cannoli Queen, but it sounded catchy.) The cannoli, which cost twice as much as any other, tasted like it was filled with thick, sugary Duncan Hines frosting. It was so sweet that I think I developed lifetime diabetes on the spot. It's rare that Miss Tubby tosses food in the trash bin, but I did...as I would have gone into a serious diabetic coma if I'd tried to eat the whole thing.

Now that I think about it, our adventure for the day wasn't quite over, as we stood in line for nearly an hour waiting for a popular bus line that would have taken us to the Neolithic structures/bluffs along the shore. Unfortunately, it arrived very, very late (the only such incident of a late bus during our time there). And then, despite being an extremely new/modern fleet of buses, it then broke down about 20 feet into our journey there. Since we'd lost so much time waiting for the bus, and we'd really wanted to also see the canons fire from the Upper Barraka Gardens as well, we decided to change course and head there instead (as they fired at 4pm).

Even though our rented home was just a few hundred yards from the gardens, we'd kept putting it off. This is because we tend to retire early, like senior citizens, because we wake up at 3am from jet lag. But we knew the next two days were slated to rain, and it would be our last chance to see it with clear blue skies.

The stairs inside the main gates to the city of Valletta that lead right to the cannons...

We walked briskly from the bus station and made it to the gardens with 15 minutes to spare before they fired the cannons, and managed to nab a prime viewing spot directly over the cannons. While we waited for them to fire it, we took turns gazing at the stunning views below.

My mother, who normally takes roughly 2.37 minutes to take a single photo (and longer for family shots, so you have to hold your smile for upwards of five minutes while she tries to open her camera), managed to capture the precise moment the canon fired with her phone! Bravo!

Once the canon fired, the battery emptied out and we wandered around a bit more. Once the tourists from the cruise ships leave each day, it's really a pleasant city to navigate in fall with very few visitors, comparatively.

On our way back, we stumbled upon this cathedral right near the gardens. And we had to go in, because you know our cultured ten-year old, he's all about chapel tours and frescoes for days. I tried to coax him to leave with promises of gelato and Fortnite, but he refused. ;-)

Rich trying out a Kinnie, the signature non-alcoholic beverage of Malta. It's a mix of carbonated bitter oranges that somehow tastes a lot like a Dr. Pepper. I'd give it a miss, but it's not bad either!