Marsaxlokk

This village with a tongue twisting name is on the south coast. The guide warned that it would be difficult to get to on a Sunday as the Maltese have family seafood lunches there. But I was determined to have a go. The warning seemed to be true, every bus to Valletta terminal was packed. I resigned myself to crossing by ferry and spending a Sunday in Valletta, or perhaps the Three Cities. But once in Valletta I thought, why not see if I can get onto a Masaxlokk bus. In fact I scored an express service. Never give up prematurely.

There is a bric-a-brac market and all the restaurants by the harbour offer seafood menus. Lots of people were seated and eating.

The fishing boats are traditionally colourfully painted, to the delight of photographers.

I walked the length of the waterfront and finally settled on this restaurant near the church.

I asked for the aljotta and spaghetti mare. The aljotta was even better than the previous one; even though the portion was small, it was full of flavour. The spaghetti was also excellent.

Back in Valletta I explored the Upper Barrakka Gardens. These cannons are fired at certain times. The need for the timekeeping function is long gone but the ceremony has been preserved.

Spotting a queue at the Amorino geleteria, I decided to join. It was worth the wait, their gelati were very smooth.

And this is what I bought, caffè and nocciola. Very artfully scooped to look like a flower with petals.

Victoria to Sliema, an interlude

And so it was time to move on to the main island of Malta. Since I had all day to reach Sliema, I could have made a small excursion in the morning. But I couldn't think of anywhere I hadn't been. And just as well, as the bus left the station for the ferry terminal, it started pouring and continued throughout the crossing.

The bus meandered along the coastal road and took over an hour to reach Sliema. I regretted not printing out a map of the locality; I had no idea where the hostel was with respect to the landmarks. All that I remembered was it's near the Valletta crossing ferry terminals. But luck hadn't deserted me, I happened upon a locality map on a signboard. Let's see, my booking says San Piju V and there is a road named St. Pius V. I called that a match, Maltese to English. And so it was.

I lunched, had a coffee with cake, got rained on returning to the hostel and had a nap that put velvet between my vertebrae while it poured. Some days you should just surrender to fate.

Supermarkets on Malta are well stocked. Many brands come from Italy due to proximity, but UK goods are also common due to the ex-pat factor. Fresh produce costs more as it's imported.

In the evening I explored the northern part of Sliema town. As Sliema sits on a somewhat fat peninsula, I kept re-encountering buildings and streets I had already passed and returning to the coast whenever I took a new path, because most routes radiate from the ridge. It took a bit of practice to find the cross-peninsula roads.

Big city shock. No more cozy little establishments serving local specialties. They were all flashy loud eateries offering virtually identical choices of burgers, pizza and other international fast food. There were also a lot of Italian restaurants. Problem was the good eateries were expensive and the cheap ones were ordinary. I was half tempted by New York Best pizzeria, but the loud muzak and 12 inch size put me off.

In the end I settled for a restaurant with a set menu containing Maltese fish soup, the aljotta I was seeking and a main of grilled swordfish steak. The latter was undistinguished but the soup was delicious. The lemon juice and mint were a nice touch, I must remember that. And just in time too, a downpour started after I entered the restaurant, only letting up when I had finished my meal. My guardian angel was working overtime. It thundered during the small hours too so I slept soundly.

Marsalforn

My next hop off location was Marsalforn, on the north coast. Here the holiday apartments looked newer and more were on the way. The bigger choice of restaurants also indicated more visitors.

It was time for lunch. Unfortunately the British had been there before me and sabotaged the menus with all kinds of non-food items. I didn't want all day breakfasts, burgers or pizzas. I was hoping to find aljotta, Maltese fish soup.

Finally at the very end of restaurant row I found an Italian restaurant offering it. I also ordered the seafood spaghetti. When it came I was glad the waiter hadn't heard me ask for aljotta, or I would have been unable to finish it. In fact I didn't, because the spaghetti was more like troppo dente than al dente. Still, given that the whole lunch cost what one single dish in Sydney does, I can't complain.

And more so because I had a breezy view over the bay.