ACF Malta 2008.
Finally I have a little time to post a few words and a lot of photos about the Malta trip.
When I first read Regulator's suggestion for a spring week in Malta I was intrigued, but as I had not brought a bike on a trip abroad before I was a little uncertain about the practicalities.
Putting these doubts aside I signed up, as did Valiant and Tourist Tony. Money changed hands, and all was set. The plan was to go for a week, rent an apartment to the north of the island, and explore by bike or otherwise as the mood dictated. I wasn't keen to bring my Van Nicholas so my Marin was fettled, panniers were purchased, extra bottle cage fitted, and I was all set.
Sunday morning saw us gather, with just a little less time before boarding than intended, at Heathrow's Terminal 4. Bikes were hurriedly thrust into bags. The bikes ended up tucked around a corner a little out of the line of sight of the staff for my liking, and off we set to get on the plane with fingers crossed that the bikes would follow us onto the plane. A tolerable 3 hour flight followed, courtesy of Air Malta, and we landed in Malta's airport and waited for our bikes to appear. And waited. And waited. No bikes. They hadn't got on the plane. Much swearing followed, while the helpful airport staff sent the necessary communications to Heathrow.
Off we went to the flat, located in Bugibba and normally used by divers staying on the island to dive the thousands of wrecks located off the coast.
The trip to Bugibba revealed a sun-parched land still retaining some of the greenery of Spring. Apparently from about May onwards the green disappears and the temperature climbs. Bugibba overlooks St Paul's islands, where St Paul was supposedly shipwrecked in AD60.
The landscape has an ancient timeless feel to it, and the island is scattered with remains that reflect the 7000-odd years that humans have lived there.
I was constantly struck by the warm Mediterranean colours. Absolutely crystal clear sea like this for a start:
I do like a nice doorway.
Part of the harbour in Bugibba:
Cacti everywhere:
To borrow TT's phrase: we're not in Kansas anymore, Toto:
A wealth of colour everywhere. I took this shot as I thought this was the national flower of Malta; it's not as it happens, but I like it anyway:
After a brief exploration, we crashed out and crossed our fingers for our bikes. The next day, word arrived that our bikes had made it on to the next plane and were en route, so Regulator and I went to await their arrival. Along they came in a van, loaded in a manner that revealed much about non-cyclists' lack of understanding of the construction of the bicycle, a telling moment that was to revisit us. After some quick fettling revealed that they were unscathed, we were mobile at last. Our brief explorations had made it clear that the local driving style and the many clapped out cars would warrant some care on the roads.
One of our first trips, southwest along the coast in the direction of St Julian, involved a little detour along an unprepossessing side road, the first of several vain attempts to escape the inescapable reality: Malta is not flat. This brought us by accident to the Commonwealth war graves, a sombre yet beautiful little corner carefully tended and protected from the blistering sun. The visitors book was signed "ACF Malta Tour 2008".
Valiant:
Valetta is a fantastic place of sun-drenched and shadow-filled narrow streets. Much of the old town was damaged in the last war and rebuilt using the old stone. It's hard to tell. The limestone used in Malta seems to weather so quickly that appearrances can be deceptive. It literally crumbles away before your eyes.
The contrast of old and new:
In and around Parliament Square:
The only island to be awarded the George Cross:
Another doorway:
As we pootled about one of the places we passed through quite a few times was Mosta.
Regulator very generously treated us to a truly fantastic meal in the Ta' Marija here. By the time we had finished the starters and the wonderful seafood platters, most of us were fit to burst, but we manfully struggled on and attempted to finish the main course before wobbling home via one of the best downhills on the trip.
The interior of the famous Mosta dome, looking straight up:
The dome had a fairy visit during the war from one of these, which fortunately failed to go off:
A few photos from a ride to Mdina and Rabat:
Doesn't look much but the climb up to here was hard work:
Valiant gets there:
The Maltese don't like to get too far away from their cars:
I've never been able to precisely pin down TT's expression here as Regulator attempts to convince him that he was only imagining those hills en route:
Gecko on the wall:
The were lots of more colourful geckos but I could never get a shot of them.
Lots of evidence of the British military presence on the island; a complex of old Nissen huts made me imagine how it would have been 60 odd years ago:
Tranquil post ride evenings back in Bugibba...
Lots of sleepy cats in the sun:
Not so much sun on the day we took the boat to Gozo:
Lots of ancient buses on the roads, all well looked after. Bit of an art deco feel to this one:
This back seat has seen a snog or two:
Golden Bay, over on the other side of the island:
TT, Valiant, and Regulator debate whether to join me on the other side of the bay. Answer: no.
Later, TT climbed back up all those steps to find he'd forgotten his waterbottle so back down, and up, he went.
We were all aware that we were missing SimonL3's FNRttC, so there was only one thing for it and that was to charge those Dinottes and brave the Maltese Friday night drivers. The very same moon that lit the way to Southend did the same for us:
With some assistance from Dinotte:
With SimonL3 in mind, I took a shot of this, built in the modern Maltese building material of choice, concrete:
After walking past it at least once a day for a week, I still couldn't figure out why it was there.
There's obviously been a horse-ablution related problem here, but I never found out what it was:
Now the Maltese roads are strewn with vehicles fit only for the crusher, but there a quite a few gems around. This P6 was mint. Appropriate registration too:
Lots of jeeps of various flavours, and a few Mokes, but not many as good as this one:
On the last day Regulator and I took off early on what turned out to be a difficult but fantastic ride to the other coast and back, climbing and descending Mellieha ridge on the way back. Great fun.
In the distance you may spy someone on a 24" gear, but hard to be sure.
I have to extend my thanks to Greg for setting up this trip. Every detail was attended to. It was a real bonus and a privilege to have someone guiding us who knew the island and its history so well. It helped us all get a lot of the trip, and I for one doubt if I'd have enjoyed it nearly as much without it..
The ever cheerful and erudite Greg powers along
:
I think this ought to be the start of an annual ACF/yACF spring jaunt; it has been a great start to the summer to have a week in the warmth of the Med. It was quite a shock to return to pitch black, cold, wet London on Sunday evening!
