Valletta to the Three Cities and Kalkara then on to Marsaskala – 13th April 2023
A very poor start having to walk through the docks and up some main dual carriageways, but things improved quickly and after all the civilisation it was nice, eventually, to be back on the cliffs for a while.
I’m beginning to hate on mobile phone users who insist on a speaker phone conversation in a public space. 2 Indian boys, one in front and one behind, gabbled the whole way on the bus from Marsaskala to Valletta. Me sandwiched by them and their fathers, by the tone, giving it large in Hindi – or maybe Punjabi.
Of course, this is also a problem elsewhere. I am reminded of the fuck who coughed and spluttered all over my back on the train from Lagos to Faro for 90 mins. And who held a speaker phone conversation with his mother – I think – the whole time.
Just leaving the docks and blessed on my way by a big V.M. behind her window. I wonder if I am becoming obsessed with these.A sculpture made from parts of a generating turbine from the defunct power station I just passed.A nice little cup we could give to Alex when she wins. If I can just get in it my pocket. Although, the gross buggery going on might be a problem.Malta’s one and only mosque. Mostly dem Arabs have been kicked out. It’s all down to the multiple Turkish invasion attempts.A tunnel carved through the walls. Why didn’t they just build a gate in the first place?Is he meant to be headless? Or is he hiding from the paparazzi of the day with his cloak over his head. Hate to break it to you, mate, but you could run past them before they even got their brushes out.Approaching Senglea. also known as Isla. V. confusing it must be. They are restoring the city walls. Lovely.The pedestrian gate up close. If I was the master stone mason, I’d be fucked off at the hack of the bastard who put those cables in. And if I was paying for it all, I’d have him redo it. He’s used very poor blocks there around head height. They be weathering already.The main medieval drag up to St. Phillips. That is a shield – not a surf board.The watchtower at the very tip of the peninsular. I’m almost sure that is a goose. However, no one seems to want to clean up its pee, it’s gone and stained the stone.Billionaire’s row is getting closer.Tight medieval streets. All gentrified now, of course, smelling sweet.I family group being slowly consumed by the seaweed they brought aboard for soup.Just realised that there was one in the prev. Still, can’t support those gays enough – eh. Pride!It is a very civilised country that makes way for the ducks and fucks the pigeons, I say.Sneaking up on them now. It turns out when I finally go past that there was not a sign of any hair-sprayed stiff combover or indeed, any FSB hard-eyed security. Shame.At last. Some canons saved from the knacker’s yard.What do you get if you cross Thomas the Tank Engine with Pinocchio?St. Angelo’s fort. I won’t be going in, ‘cos you know why. Turning right.Found the hidden stairs and am now up level with the walls. The bell that rang to celebrate the lifting of the Turkish siege 1565.I have not a clue. A big ball?All the streets have these ceramic plates at frequent intervals. How long would they last with the boys pissed up on their harp lager and armed with broken pavers to hurl at the peelers?An even sweeter medieval street. Does that say, well hung bag?Just walked along the battlements – could drive a bloody car along them.This is going too far. A large private V.M. to bless your little bit of patio, together with 2 small boys dressed in armour by your door pillars. Mixed messages, I’d say.Coming in to Kalkara, where I was initially going to stop, and another St. Pauls. Nice feel to this harbour, not so many pratts.The oldest church on the island. Nice octagon shape. All this cross shaped stuff happened later when the slightly gay peeps got involved. We now know where that woman pinched her V.M. from.Fort is closed so, can’t go in and have a look at the really big guns. One is peeping up over the rampart.Commonwealth cemetery. Mostly 1st World War. Always makes me think and thankful that no one in their right mind would sign up to invade other people’s land anymore. Oops! Russian anyone.Finally, back to the coast and a pill box – nothing changes.And many more coming in the distance.Even the Knight’s era waisted ones. Though not as nice as the others on the south coast.A little blue grotto with no touristas.Very weird mermaid. No tail but one flipper foot. And what is wrong with her face?They even do it for cats.Another massive abandoned hotel, and yet the cranes and construction everywhere.Marsaskala ahead and a stop for a late lunch then back on the bus. Wish I’d got a taxi, I can still hear the overly loud, intrusive Hindi banging between my ravaged ears.Ok. Where be all the boats? Have they gone on a day trip to that boat bunged harbour from the other day?Another one. St. Anne’s this time. Who just happens to be the patron saint of recycling with a lovely bell tower.
I very nice day in the end.16 miles or so and the feets and legs are holding up. No real downz or upz so piss easy, apart from the time à pied. I might just stay off the buses though.
