St. Julians to Villetta and the Villetta Peninsular – 12th April 2023
This time around, on my 2nd trip to Malta, there was no additional terror added to my flight for a change. The reason for this visit is two-fold. 1st is to support the Alex as she plays in her 1st international under-18 volleyball tournament for the old N.I. And 2nd, is to complete my round Malta walk. I only have a couple of days each side of the matches so will need to push a little.
Today was mostly beach promenade and town streets, but it must be done. At least there was plenty of places to get water so no need to carry any.
The warm sun hitting me as I walked along the shore front was wonderful. The sea air filled my lungs and as the old legs started to function I could relax and feel the tranquillity settle over me. I had to remind myself that it’s only been 2 weeks since I was in Portugal and fear I’m Jonesing it when at home at and off my feet.
Heading away from the Love statue in St. Julian’s. The place is busy, busy, even though it is early in the morning. It is, of course, Easter hols.Water polo seems big here. The boys getting in some laps – no heat required.Our Lady’s church. Paul the pope on his way to an audience with the emperor in 60AD – I reckon his PR peeps were as good as the Shinner’s – crashed into Malta on his way and set immediately to work dripping his poison and preachifying, and as a result Malta became the first Christian country. Heading along the bay. Have to use the aged and infirm’s raised and fenced-off pathway for a bit. Long may I not need it.Looking back at St. Julian’s. Building works everywhere here too.Cruel to make these fish work as a weather vane just for the touristas.They’ve carved a path through the rock, so that we don’t trip up and hurt ourselves – I suppose.They be slowly wrecking that good mural of Hulk climbing into the building through the hole he’s just made. The scooter club have parked and scooted.Boats and more boats. I wonder if Esme’s old boss is in?Ah! That looks like his now. Give her back her overpaid Corporation Tax you bastard!I suppose it is better than melting them as scrap. This way, after they retire from all the booming and the banging, they get to put their heads down.I was bemoaning the dearth of churches – or was that Portugal? Although that looks like a big V.M. it is old St. Joseph – no I don’t know who he is. One of the disciples, I expect. Either that or Big JC’s da. What a lovely looking seat. I think I’ll park me arse for a min. and try it out. The priest is about to make a get-away in that silver car with the collection money and the communion wine, along with his young choir boy lover who has finally passed his driving test.The all-inclusive cube. Not a typo – not club – cube.The pigeon astronaut is just waiting for his audience to gather then he’ll hop up unto that high powered rocket and go where no pigeon has gone before.Boats, boats, boats and through the thicket of masts you can just see the outer ravelin of Valletta.No end to the bloody boats and an old boathouse.The place is littered with walls and battlements and this seems to be a bridge going over an old moat or ditch.The Porte des Bombes. The Latin says. “While I fight the Turks everywhere, I am secure in my seat – 1721” and “For the greater convenience of the public – 1868“. Not exactly awe inspiring. Perhaps that’s why some toerag tried to burn it down in 2005. It’s stone, mate!A shady feral cat hotel. Hope they’ve got room service. Mine stops at 7.00PM – what a lark.A round church. You can’t hide in the corners when its your turn to serve the priest his daily fiddle.The water tower from 1615. My best guess is, “This tower decorated with the flower de-Lys for the edification of the city. Behold the life giving water. The good Bontadino Bontadinis built me.” Aqueduct brought water from the interior.Nice tree-lined street leading to the city gates. One of these cars is not like the other one. One of these cars shall die alone. Guess the TV program.The mall, all paved over now but the bowling green of antiquity. You know, when Walter Raleigh and the boys made it al-a-mode.Ze monument celebrating independence. But isn’t that Britannia on top?The bastard bastion protecting the gate.The gate and suddenly heaps of peeps. Don’t like it. Feel my skin crawling.Away from the main drag and I can breathe again. St John’s Cavalier fort. Loads of different forts built inside the walls.And bloody thick they are. Looking down at the creepy gate entrance.Good view over most of the island. That dark ridge is the cliffs of Dingli that I enjoyed last time.The thunder god struck ‘cos he didn’t like the man’s hubris. “Too high! Too high!” he cried – for some reason in an Australian accent.A sign from the 19th Century? Looks too modern.The restored fort on Manoel Island. The sharks are causing a whirlpool at the back of that boat, waiting for the old granny or two to topple in off their ill-advised high-heels.St. Elmo’s fort. Perhaps if I have time I can find the ‘fire’.Bases of Roman temple columns? Nope. Caps over the grain silos.Aha! Sign explained. Poor old nag. A retirement home for old anchors.Not sure of the palatial building but I’ll pass it tomorrow.A true blue British moggy having a well earned rest after ripping the union jack to shreds in disgust at them not hanging it the right side up.“Love has done these things” more probably “Built in the name of love” You lot are getting an education today.See recycling isn’t new. More bollarded canons.It is either Trumpy’s or Putin’s. I wonder if the Ukrainians would cough up a reward?A flower butterfly being haunted by a ghostly bird.Yeah! Fuck those TFO discounts.Caught a bit of it previously but my God! What a fucking thing. Never in a million could you subject me to that torture.And across the Harbour, another one.
That’s me done for the day. I’ll head back up to the bus station and get back to the gaff. A nice day despite all the civilisation and crowds in Valletta.
