Hipsters Ain't All Bad

Perhaps Edward should have stayed in Enna. His next overnight stay, in Santa Catarina copped the biggest serve he had offered since my hometown of Albany. Bad as our accommodation last night, the prospect is worse here-more fleas and more dirt-the chilly floor of red tiles looks as though it had never known a broom, and the filthy stained walls may have been ignorant of paint or whitewash since the house was built. 

The landlady, fat,dirty and cross, was in such an ill-temper, as the arrival of guests even, failed to molify, supper was tardily prepared. 

For our part, we had a delightful dinner with the ancient chef and a pleasant night apart from the chatter of naughty children. Breakfast was included via a voucher for a coffee and pastry at a nearby cafe and once that was consumed we set out to walk down the footpath of the winding road to Enna Bassa (the old town on the summit being Enna Alta) to book a bus for Agrigento. At the cafe opposite the Enna Bassa terminal we learned that they weren't selling tickets in advance "because of the coronavirus". This was the first real evidence that coronavirus was going to be an issue in southern Italy as well as the north. Presumably the bus companies didn't want to sell advance tickets that they would later have to refund if services stop. The cafe owner suggested we come back on Monday and buy a ticket then. 

Enna's castle from Enna Basso. A hearty stroll.

There was no way that we were going to walk back up the hill as Edward had done, so we took the bus. Once back at the old city we visited the Norman Castle of Lombardy. It was closed for repairs so we just admired it from the outside and then looked over the Roman Temple of Ceres. Both are at the peak of the summit and had amazing views in almost every direction. No one was going to sneak up on these guys. Both were deserted so maybe Enna still doesn't get a lot of tourists. 

The rock at Enna's summit upon which the Roman Temple of Ceres was built. Not much is left but it's still an awesome site. 

That evening the town centre was full of life and in contrast to last nights traditional Sicilian trattoria and meal we dined at a place on the main piazza,  called Pacco Mora. This was an ultra modern hipster establishment, specialising in avant garde vegetarian dishes but with traditional Sicilian themes. They had a tasting plate for two which contained such delights as a tiny bowls of chick pea and onion soup, little spinach tarts and an artichoke pate. They also had organic wines and interesting bottled non alcoholic drinks including a delightful ginger ale. I was prepared to pay big and leave unsatisfied but we struggled to finish it all and the bill came to no more than the previous night. Being of a generation that finds taking pictures of your food and  writing reviews about it, a bit odd, I don't usually do restaurant reviews but  I was so impressed that I was moved to write my second ever TripAdvisor review (my first being for the Glen Innes Caravan Park and associated Fish and Chip shop-visit them if you're ever up that way). The service was exemplary too. An owner waiter with good English  gave informative descriptions of everything and was definitely not dirty or cross.  I told him how impressed we were and promised to write a glowing review.  If you're ever in Enna, check it out.

I should mention that the much vaunted Italian cuisine is not all it's cracked up to be. While there are some delicious dishes available (we had some fantastic cannoli and the Sicilians make a delicious flaky pastry with ham, cheese and tomato inside), there is not much imagination or variety shown. Whether cheap or expensive, a tomato salad is usually chopped tomato with olive oil, salt and perhaps garlic sprinkled over it. A mixed salad is that with some lettuce next to it. I can do that at home guys.  Every pasticceria serves an identical range, only changing as you change regions. And restaurant menus tend to all offer similar things, very simply prepared.  I suppose having spent 2000 years or more developing their cuisine they see no reason to change. I've often reflected that one of the best things about Australia is that we take other peoples cuisines and make them better. In Australia Italian food is better than Italy. Chinese food better than China and Indian food better than India. So places like Pacco Mora are definitely worth finding. 

The Price Is Still Right

This morning we left Il Gattopardo and took the bus to Enna in the middle of Sicily. Edward didn't overnight at Enna but he did visit and as it looked to be a more attractive proposition than the towns he did stay at, we headed there. We started with a brunch at the very nice bus driver's cafe adjacent to the bus terminal, that we visited a few days ago.

The bus trip along a major highway to Enna took 2 hours and cost 14euros apiece. Edward had contracted with his vetturino, or carriage driver, to pay a total of 20pounds which is the rough eqivalent of A$1333 in modern money. He was accompanied by a French gentleman he had met on the ferry from Malta and this price was to include the entire trip from Messina to Palermo. The driver also had to cover board and lodging for them all. We were paying around A$80 a night for accommodation, A$70 per day in food and the bus and train fares totalled about A$80 each for the trip from Catania to Palermo so in fact our basic costs were almost identical to Edward's to cover this distance. We traveled much faster than him but spent longer in each destination, taking 8 days to his 9.

Edward spent his first night out of Adrano in Leonforte. He stayed in a dirty, comfortless-looking inn where he was tormented with fleas, and besides suffered much from cold. Perhaps a disadvantage of putting his driver Francisco in charge of hotel selection was that he opted for the budget inns.

The next day they approached the remarkable city of Castrogiovanni, once famous, under its ancient name of Enna with a population of 12,000 souls. (Today it's just over twice that.) Edward sent the carriage onwards to their next destination while he and his French companion turned off upon an ancient paved mule track that led directly up the hillside. He claimed it only took half an hour to reach the city where they then visited the cathedral (which again was patronised by pretty girls) and the Norman Castle which is adjacent to the famed temple of Ceres. They then made their way back down another mule track and met up with Francisco for a late lunch. They must have been fit because while in Enna, which has reverted to it's old name, we walked down the hill on a good footpath and that took at least 40 minutes and it took us 2 whole days to explore the town.

The view from Enna showing the slope that Edward walked up. The town on the hill in the centre  background is Leonforte and behind that is Etna

Travelling out from Catania the country became more agricultural than horticultural. Orange groves gave way to what appeared to be pasture and crop country. We were met at the Enna bus terminal by Francesca, proprietor of Il Nottempo at Via Colajarni 26, who conveyed us to her neat little apartment with no fleas and modern heating.

Once settled we visited a tour office that Francesca suggested could help us book a bus on to Agrigento. Our first visit with an older gentleman who spoke little English, produced, with the aid of Google Translate, the information that there were no buses to Agrigento. However, another visit later in the afternoon, when the desk was now occupied by a young man who spoke excellent English, provided the welcome information that there would be a direct bus to Agrigento on Monday but we'd need to visit the bus terminal at the bottom of the hill to book tickets.

Crispy in Crispi Square, Enna. Temple of Ceres in the background. Kind of them to name their ornamental town lookout after me

Armed with that information we booked a third night with Francesca and took a short walk around town before dining at another little mom & pop trattoria where once again dinner ended with what seems to be the standard complimentary shot of limoncello. Mom and Pop spoke no English but photos on the wall indicated that Pop had recently been awarded a certificate for 50 years service to Enna as a chef. Again with the aid of Google Translate, Trish was able to convey the information that her son is a chef in Australia.

Nottetempo translates as "at night" and we discovered at night that the only downside to Il Nottetempo is that the strectch of Via Colajarni outside our door is where a significant proportion of Enna's tweenagers learn to smoke. They seemed a harmless bunch but they kept us awake till nearly midnight with their merriment and chatter, every night we were there. Edward had commented that Castrogiovanni is not, I fancy, very frequently visited by foreigners; at least the curiosity with which we were regarded would lead to that conclusion; boys followed us, gaping and gazing, wherever we went. While the first tour agent's lack of English might have suggested that is still the case, the boys in our lane seemed far more interested in their fags, than us.

Bella Ragazza

Once again I started the day with an interview from ABC radio in Albany. Looking at the internet it seems that Australians are going silly with Covid19 fever, panic buying of all things toilet paper. What do they think they're going to do with that? Eat it? I was able to report that in Sicily things were much calmer. Life seems to be progressing as usual.

The first thing Edward reported on landing in Sicily was my feelings, or prejudices mayhap, were somewhat startled by observing two elderly gentlemen, of severe aspect and solemn demeanour, meet in the street, and with the utmost gravity deliberately kiss each other-no mere touching of foreheads or cheeks, but lip to lip, they treated one another to a smacking sounding kiss. This is still the case and even in this era of gender fluidity, it is still remarkable to Australian eyes. While they seem to kiss on the cheek, rather than lips, now, it is still a more intimate process that the Aussie man hug that is now common. As Covid19 awareness progressed the kissing did move increasingly toward the "air kiss" but at this stage it was still a close process. Men also stroll arm in arm here in a way that schoolboys did in my childhood (but as gender fluidity has increased-that seems to have decreased in Australia. Funny that.)

The Norman keep at Aci Castello

The prettiest girl in Aci Castello, atop the keep

From Gardino Edward traveled on to Catania. They stopped for lunch in Aci Reale where as usual Edward was alert to the girls whose beauty was remarkable. We passed to the west of Aci Reale on the bus to Taormina yesterday but didn't stop to checkout the ladies. As there is a Hop on, Hop off tourist bus that runs up the coast as far as Aci Trezza which is a little south of Aci Reale, we did that today. We stopped for lunch at Aci Castello which has a Norman castle keep on the waterfront. Edward must have pssed it but despite the fact that it's unmissable he didn't remark on it. (Not enough pretty girls?) At Aci Trezza there are some unusual volcanic rocks in the ocean which according to local legend were rocks thrown by Cyclops at Ulysses as he was escaping from Cyclops lair. (It's no wonder Ulysses took so long to get home, if he came past here on his way from Troy to Greece. He was well and truely lost.)

The rocks at Aci Trezza

In travelling about Sicily Edward often mentions the sulphur mining industry which was a major part of the local economy at that time. Today all that seems to remain are deserted mines and processing plants. On the Catania waterfront there is a significant new convention centre called The Chimneys. It is a renovated sulphur processing plant and retains many of the original chimney stacks. Having this in the middle of the city must have created significant pollution issues. 

Edward describes the coast as largely agricultural and while there are patches today, much of it is covered by the masses of apartment blocks of post war origin. From Catania, Edward had planned to travel on to Syracuse but rain had washed a bridge out about 13km south of town so he had to turn back and abandon his plans for Syracuse. We had travelled up this way from Pozzallo and clearly it was much wetter then because at present  none of the waterways were more than a trickle. 

In the afternoon we visited Bellini Gardens in Catania. It's a 7 hectare park that was a princes front garden, until purchased by the local council in 1854, just before Edward got here. We also bought some stamps to send a few postcards home. The stamps were 3.10euro each which seems exorbitant but they did at least feature a Modigliani nude. 

Dirty Deals or No Deals?

Andrew Collins rang me this morning to do a phone interview for his afternoon ABC radio broadcast, describing the impact of Covid19 on Sicily. I told him that apart from last nights English tourist, there doesn't seem to be much of an issue.

After breakfast we took the Metro to the station where the train that circumnavigates Etna departs from and rode that up to Adrano. Apart from substantial expansion of Catania with large suburban apartment blocks, the route is pretty much as Edward describes it over the lava beds of 1669; the lapse of 2 centuries has produced decomposition sufficient only to restore limited portions of the surface to the purposes of cultivation...the rougher portions produce only a straggling crop of prickly pears , with a few olive and fig trees. Nearly another 2 centuries on and it still like that.

Edward hadn't intended to spend the night in Adrano but they heard that a river 5 miles out of town was impassable so they decided to make camp. They strolled out after dinner in search of amusement and entering the chapel of the convent of Santa Lucia, we heard some excellent music. 
Afterwards...we found the old keep, occupied as a prison, and a dozen starved looking men incarcerated within it. These inmates told Edward that they had to provide for their own food, which the warder confirmed, and begged him for money which they received with expressions of gratitude quite out of proportion with the gift. 

Undercover photo of St Lucia Convent with persons of interest outside

On our visit the convent was locked and silent although a cafe out the front was patronised by a particularly large and somber looking group of older men-no women. Was this the Adrano Mafia the tourist official had muttered about, taking care of business? We were not going to ask. The old castle keep is now a museum and the signage within confirmed it had been a prison until 1958. Wonder when they started feeding the inmates?

Adrano castle prison museum

We had a nice lunch at a more friendly looking cafe which did cater to ladies and the prices indicated that this is indeed not a town burdened by tourists. After lunch we walked to a lookout on the edge of town which had a nice view over a river valley, presumably the river that had kept Edward here. We then reboarded the train to travel on to Randazzo which is round the back of Etna. The further we went the bigger the farms became and the more greatly developed the agriculture, including some healthy looking flocks of sheep that Edward's squatter's eye would have undoubtedly approved of.

After an hour's stroll round Randazzo we returned to Catania where we discovered that tourist's dream; a little mom & pop trattoria selling very basic, but authentic and delicious, Sicilian food at very basic Sicilian prices, including local red wine in a plastic bottle, at 5euro a litre! When we finished they pressed a home made complimentary limoncello shot on each of us and by the time we left, I was having difficulty walking in a straight line

The Most Lovely Scene In The World

Edward travelled south from Messina to Catania whereas we headed north to see the same sights. He took several days but we could do it in a couple of hours on the bus. He describes the scenery south of Messina as the most lovely in the world...every turn of the road brought fresh beauties to view, keeping us in a constant rapture of admiration. All that was required to perfect the loveliness of the scenery was sunshine but that we were not destined to enjoy. He was on the money about the view and luckily for us we were enjoying sunshine. We haven't seen a drop of rain in the 10 days we've been here. Good for us although not good for the locals as apparently this is a drought in what is normally their rainy season.

Edward describes that as they traveled they were frequently stopped by a well-dressed official in full military uniform who were ostensibly doing customs inspections as they were leaving one province and entering another. However, their carriage driver explained that if they made a small financial contribution to the official, the inspections could be dispensed with. Today, Italy is still blessed with a plethora of police forces. There are local and state police, city police, the ubiquitous Carabineiri national police and even a Finance Police who apparently investigate financial crimes. All carry prominent firearms and in Catania in particular spent the day rushing from one location to another on foot, horseback, motor bike or car, but with no especial purpose at their destinations. They still dress smartly too. (Maltese police, like British general duties coppers, are unarmed and I think it always makes a place seem much nicer when that's the case.)

Edward's first overnight stop was Gardino, a straggling, dirty little town close to the sea. Today it's full of cheap beach hotels and restaurants but still uninspiring. The attraction here is Taormina, an ancient town on a hillside above. Edward hired donkeys and after an hour's climbing by a narrow paved way, cut in zigzags up the steep acclivity, he was there. Our full sized bus valiantly made it's way up what I'm guessing is pretty well the same zigzag, skillfully making it's way up each zig and zag by hooting and crossing to the wrong side of the road, which cars coming the other way graciously accommodated.

View from Taormina to Gardino with Etna in background

In Taormina there is an ampitheatre with an amazing view over, the ocean, Gardino, Mt Etna and looking upward, to the castle of Mola. Edward had planned to climb all the way up to Mola the following day but the weather was bad so he called it off. Looking at the projected climb I suspect he was relieved by the bad weather. I was certainly relieved that as he hadn't gone, we didn't have to either. No one hires donkeys for the trip anymore anyway. Edward mentions buying a painting of the ampitheatre from the old custode. I wonder if some descendant still has it today because it is a striking and peculiar scene. 

Taormina ampitheatre with Mola castle on the central hill above

We had a stroll around Taormina and found hotels where Oscar Wilde and DH Lawrence stayed after Edward's time and we also found the site of some Roman Baths, also excavated after his visit. The bus to Taormina cost 8.30euro and while waiting for the bus at a particularly nice, and sensibly priced, bus drivers cafe next to the terminal (always follow the bus drivers for a good deal), we got chatting to a Polish uni student who had flown all the way to Sicily on a cheap fare of 20euro!

At dinner that night, we were entertained by a street busker playing guitar and singing old favourites. Edward often describes encountering street musicians playing traditional music in Sicily but this was one of the few street musicians we encountered and he was English. We were also approached by an English tourist who asked us if we'd heard that Covid19 had reached Sicily. Apart from a couple of German tourists wearing masks on the bus today, that's was the only sign that it's on the horizon at that stage.

What Coronavirus?

Had to get up early this morning to catch the ferry to Sicily but we awoke to an overnight email from Andrew Collins, a friend and fellow Albany Shantyman, who is a broadcaster with ABC radio. He asked how things were going with the Coronavirus (Covid19). Covid19 was on the radar when we left but only as an unusual virus in China. We had seen a couple of Italian news items about Carnival in Venice being halted but there were only 150 cases in Italy and all in the north so we hadn't thought much about it till Andrew's email. Nobody seemed to be reacting in Malta so I replied with that information.

Our ferry to Sicily left at 6.30am but boarding was an hour earlier so we had booked a 5am eCab down to the ferry landing. Malta doesn't have Uber ride share but they do have eCab which is a cross between ride share and ordinary taxis, in that you can book online or phone, nominate to pay cash or credit, and they calculate your fare on booking. Probably what Australian taxi companies should have done when Uber started to raise it's disruptive head.

The taxi went smoothly with a phone call to tell us they were 5 minutes behind. The ferry was a spacious modern fast catamaran that traveled smoothly at 60kmph. Signs proudly boasted that it was built in Tasmania (as all good medium size boats are these days). Our crossing only took 2 hours because the ferry lands at Pozzallo on the southern most tip of Sicily whereas Edward's ferry went to Messina. I'd googled Pozzallo and the top 10 things to do included beaches as 3 of the top 4, suggesting that in summer it might be a beach resort but otherwise not much else. The ferry offered a bus connection to Catania for another 15euro so we opted for that. I imagine that in Edward's time Pozzallo was just a little fishing village, with Messina a significant port, hence the ferry landing there, despite the extra distance. Edward sailed over a sea of glassy smoothness for about 18 hours. Our sea had a slight chop but the trip was uneventful. Our entry into Italy was easy with no customs or immigration checks, presumably as both Malta and Italy are EU nations, and we went straight onto the bus for another 2hours to Catania.

Southern Sicily was noticeably greener, more cultivated and with larger fields that Malta. They seem to grow primarily olives, oranges and artichokes and this was the case for large swathes of Italy. Arriving at Catania bus station we were immediately struck by how dirtier and rundown Sicily is than Malta. Attempting to get brunch at a cafe in the station we also discovered that the English speaking had run out too. And the service. The waitress gave the distinct impression that she would rather we were not there and reluctantly served us with the items we pointed out on the counter.

Thus refreshed we made out way on foot to Il Gattopardo House at Via Minoriti10. Edward stayed at the Albergo della Corona, of which I could fine no trace so we had chosen Il Gattopardo, a guesthouse in a centrally located 19th Century palace that would hopefully give some feel of Edwards's visit.

Part of the ceiling in the reception area of Il Gattopardo House

Once unpacked and settled, like Edward we visited the excavated ruins of the ancient theatre, Greek and Roman baths, and a large ampitheatre, all more or less buried beneath the successive streams of lava that have poured down from Aetna. Interestingly these are located in the middle of town. Walking down the street you come to an 18th Century building, You walk into that and then out into the remains which sort of take you by surprise. All of the museums in Malta had excellent interpretive signs in both English and Maltese and generally included free multi lingual audio guides in the entry price, a country that is taking it's tourist industry seriously. Sicilian museums are reminiscent of Egypt. The signs are often only in Italian and where translated, it was frequently into Manglish (mangled English) and audio guides, if available, came extra. (I know Australian signs are almost always in English-other than some places with significant Asian tourism, using Asian languages-but English is the world language now and most travelers use it.)

Catania's Greco Roman Ampitheatre

From this ampitheatre we strolled up to Catania's second Roman ampitheatre but on the way decided to stop off at at a "biological cafe" whose signage appeared to suggest they were specialising in vegetarian wholefoods. There were a number of juices on the menu but when we ordered a couple the poor young waitress, who spoke no English, looked like a rabbit caught in headlights. She had a quick conversation with the boss which I assume was in the spirit of "they think that because we're advertising as a juice bar, we might have some juice-aren't foreigners weird?" Then she headed off up the street and came back about 5 minutes later with some fruit. The boss meanwhile had been fetching a juicer from the storeroom and about 15 minutes later we got quite passable glasses of juice. Hipsterising the joint was paying off at last.

The second ampitheatre which is half buried under later buildings wouldn't have been seen by Edward because until the late 19th Century it had been completely buried under later buildings. Later we went to the local tourist office to find out how to get a bus to Aderno, which since 1929 has been known as Adrano, the next town on Edward's itinerary but when we asked, half the staff of the office recoiled in horror. "Why do you want to go there?" they chorused and Trish swore later she heard one of them mutter something about Mafia. When we explained our reason they accepted it was valid but explained it won't be possible to get local buses from village to village as I had hoped, as all buses now radiate out from the major centres. However, they suggested that a train that entirely circumnavigates Mt Etna and is popular with tourists, passes through Adrano so that would be our best bet.

St Agatha's Cathedral Catania

While Malta does observe the afternoon siesta to some degree, with some places closing between about 1.30-4pm, it is scrupulously followed by much of Italy. Thus we had to wait to 4pm to visit St Agatha's Cathedral in the centre of town. Like Valletta's Cathedral it is decorated with many religious paintings but is nowhere near as ornate.

It's All Good Fun Until Someone Looses An Eye

While the main Carnival celebrations take place in Valletta, other towns have their own festivities so today we took a bus to Hamrun, just a couple of kilometres from Valletta to see what a smaller celebration was like. A number of floats and dance troupes from Valletta had made their way to the Hamrun Carnival but they also had a several brass bands. When we did our walking tour the guide told us that since the time of the British, brass bands had become an important part of Maltese society. There are a number of band clubs and on Sunday mornings, men (mostly) resort to these to drink, gossip and occasionally practice. (I'm in the Albany Shantymen and this sounds like our Tuesday evening sessions.) As with the dancers the bands seem to like Sweet Caroline plus Hollywood show tunes and Beatles numbers.

Hamrun brass band drum section

The bands were taking it in turns to play outside Hamrun's central church which was having it's normal Sunday morning service. Perhaps the thick stone walls kept the sound out but when the few parishioners came out at the end, they didn't seem put out. Carnival definitely had the numbers over church so perhaps discretion was the better part of valour.

Trish had noticed a rather attractive white iced cake with glace cherries featuring in cake shops all round Malta so at lunch we thought we'd try a slice. We'd assumed it was a regular traditional favourite but the waitress explained it is Prinjolata, named after and made from pine nuts, and made especially for Carnival. The cafe proudly announced by a sign that their Prionjolata was house made but we weren't overly impressed. The icing was too sweet and the cake somewhat dry so once a year is probably enough. Our lunch was a baked rice, like a savoury rice pudding and that was nice.

One difference between Carnival today and 1855 is that then the only approach to anything like license, consists in a general throwing of sugar plums (sugar coated almonds); every person carries a bag or pocketful of these, and discharges them by handsful at the heads and faces of all whom they feel disposed to notice in this way. The ladies generally expend upon the men all their favours of this sort, while the men of course pelt away at the women. I myself became engaged in one or two such sharp contests of this kind, that when the Carnival was over I was obliged to treat myself to a new hat.  Today a few shops and cafes (such as the elegant Cafe Cordino) have displays of big glass jars of sugar plums but we saw no-one throwing any. Given the consequences for Edward's hat, it is likely that modern OH&S rules have put this practice off the agenda. A plum that destroys a hat, could put an eye out.

Carnival floats lit up for the evening

In the evening we did a bit more rampart strolling and once again watched the floats, lit up for the night making their way up and down the narrow streets. Each float is pulled by a tractor covered in with plywood to make up a moving disco sound desk complete with DJ playing modern music (and the ubiquitous Sweet Caroline) at deafening volume.  Given the size of the floats, each is accompanied by a team of minders checking to make sure it won't catch on overhead power lines, take out overhanging signs or awnings and guide it around some very tight corners.

Once we'd had our fill of Carnival we repaired to a cafe called Cheeky Monkey, run by a garrulous South African, English man who'd found South Africa too chaotic and England too cold. He wasn't worried about Brexit sending him home because he now has Maltese residency as well. Cheeky Monkey's main claim to fame is a table with ceiling mounted swings as seats at one of the tables
so we enjoyed a novel final dinner in Malta as we are taking the ferry to Sicily in the early hours of the morning.

Older Than The Pyramids

When we met with Soroptomist Thea we told her where we had been and asked if there were any other must see destinations in Malta. She recommended the stone age temples of Hagar Qim and Mnajdra, located together on the far side of the island, so today we set out to visit them These temples have been dated as being built sometime between 3600 - 3200BC which makes them older than Stonehenge or the Giza Pyramind complex and they involve the same principle of building with massive pieces of stone.

Hagar Qim temple. Both temples are protected by large awnings.

Edward doesn't mention them and that is probably because in his time their significance wasn't known. In the 19th Century there were bits of stone that were obviously part of some human structure visible but a lot of what is there today was buried underground. It was assumed that there had been some ancient Greek or Roman structure there. In the late 19th and 20th Centuries concerted archeological excavation and investigation led to their dating and preservation. It's a fascinating site and well worth visiting. I never cease to marvel at how people over 5000 years ago were travelling across the globe and building massive structures with the most basic technology.

Mnajdra Temple about 500m from Hagar Qim

The Temples are located about 500m apart on a spectacular coastal cliff and there is a nature walk of about a kilometre along the cliff,  past one of the 8 surviving coastal watch towers built in the 17th Century. All in all a pleasant way to spend a few hours so we were glad Thea recommended it.

On our way out to the Temples our bus stopped to let a passenger off about half way there. When the driver went to move off he couldn't get the bus back in gear. He then spent well over half an hour trying everything he could think of to get it going. Turning the motor on and off, opening and closing the doors, raising and lowering the hydraulic "kneel" but all to no avail. He also made a couple of phone calls, presumably seeking advice, a mechanic, a tow truck or a combination of all three. At one stage a French passenger spoke to him and together they went to the back of the bus, opened the engine cowling and peered in. Finally a Japanese passenger got up from his seat, went down and pointed to a few things on the dash, the driver presumably pressed the buttons indicated and hey presto the bus went into gear. The Japanese bloke returned to his seat near us and I asked him what happened but he didn't speak English so a young female Japanese passenger spoke to him. She then announced to the bus that he was a bus driver on holiday from Japan and knew the correct proceedure to get the bus started. We passengers applauded politely and off we went. The driver made one last phone call before moving off, I assume to cancel mechanic and tow but how he explained the delay I don't know. I suspect the boys at the depot will be giving him heaps for quite a while. It's just a shame the bus driver passenger wasn't from a country other than Japan because I assume it was the famed Japanese civility that kept him from intervening earlier (or maybe it was something so simple that he just assumed it couldn't possibly be that).

On our return toValletta we had lunch at Cafe Cordino in the centre of Via Repubblikka. It advertises itself as "estd 1837" so it's possible Edward may havc dined there. I asked the waiter if it had always been in that location and he said before the war it had been further down the street but was bombed out so moved to it's current location. It was an elegant place. Edward would've liked it.

After lunch we returned to our appartment for a nap before returning to watch more Carnival festivities in the evening.

We Found Wally

The timing of our trip was based more on fitting in with Trish's health circumstances. She has 3 monthly checks to see if she is well and if she is, we can travel for the next 3 months. Her check in late January was positive so off we went. However, as luck would have it, we were in Malta at pretty well the same time of year as Edward. He was here for Carnival and so are we. For Edward, the 3 days of Carnival were insufferably stupid and spiritless. He attributed this to English rule having deprived the Carnival of all its ancient license, excitments and extravagancies. I suspect as a single man in his prime he was hoping for something like the Rio Mardi Gras, whereas the Malta Carnival is much more a family affair with colour and noise but not much in the way of license.Today people started appearing in the streets, especially children, dressed in extravagant, colourful costumes, some traditional but many modern superheros and media characters, including the occasional "Where's Wally", both adult and junior.

Children in more traditional costume. More common were Spidermen, Wonder Women and Police and Fire Fighters

We spent the morning walking the ramparts and at lunch time watched the firing of the gun in Upper Barrakka Gardens which happens daily at lunch and in the late afternoon, as it did in Edward's time. It's a popular tourist event now.

After spotting the Soroptomist tree at St Anton's Gardens Trish had made contact with Thea, a local Soroptomist and arranged to meet at a cafe for afternoon coffee. Thea is a German living in Malta for the "sun and taxes". I asked her what the basis of the Maltese economy is, apart from the obvious tourism. Apparently they are aiming at becoming a centre of financial services ranging from Casinos to a low tax environment and merchant banking. I would guess it is this industry that has led to their problems with corruption in government. There is an ongoing memorial /protest site outside the Cathedral for a journalist who was murdered while investigating corruption in 2017. Just before we arrived the Prime Minister stood down following indications that he could be implicated. Big finance will often attract big corruption.

Carnival officially opened this afternoon with a dance competition by troops of extravagantly costumed local dance groups from all over Malta, as well as some from Italy and other parts of Europe. There seemed to be an endless procession of them, all doing modern dance routines to such traditional Maltese tunes as "Barbie Girl" and "Sweet Caroline". Smoking is by no means a lost art in Malta with cigarettes and efags, present everywhere. This was brought home to me by the fascinating sight of a dance troop dressed as ladies from the Court of the Sun King complete with hooped skirts, elaborate makeup and high piled pompadours, coming off stage from their dance routing and virtually all groping into their bras to pull out, and light up, fags.

Edward went to the grand Carnival ball at the palace which he thought rather a stupid affair. Wherever he went, Edward was appraising the looks of the female population but with the display of Maltese beauty at the ball I was much disappointed, the prevalence of good looks among the inferior classes having somewhat raised my expectations. If there is a ball these days, we weren't invited and in Malta, as the rest of the world it is difficult recognize class. However, Maltese women clearly do their best to present well and I wasn't disappointed in that respect. In Edward's time traditional dress was still worn with black silk hood and mantle, or faldette, setting off their generally light and graceful figures to much advantage. Dress today is modern western but there are still plenty of light and graceful figures. Maltese genetics also seem to lean towards thick manes of copious curls.

Carnival Float.

In Edward's time at "gun-fire" every evening the amusements were discontinued and the streets regained the quiet deserted appearance which at night distinguishes the streets of Valletta.Today the streets of Valletta remain active in the evenings with people going out to eat and socialize. After the dance competition finished the Carnival floats, accompanied by dance groups began a slow parade up and down the streets.

So Shoot Me

Ok. I confess. Today I did something that some people in Australia seem to equate with eating a baby you have previously molested. When we first visited Nenu's Artisan Bakery I noticed horsemeat stew on the menu. I'm the kind of person who if I see something I've never eaten on a menu I've got to try it (with some reservations eg wasps marinated in urine might fail to tempt me). I know that in Australia the notion of eating horse creates a kind of hysteria amongst some sections of the population. Primarily vegetarians perhaps but there are also people who will happily eat chops carved from sweet, fluffy lambies who recoil at the thought of horse.

I love horses as much as the next person. In my twenties I was quite the equestrian. I learned to ride to a degree that Edward would've been proud of, I owned a couple of horses and even completed a Certificate of Equine Management at night school. As a meat eater I can't see the difference between horse or other meat. You have to trust that all your meat has been raised and slaughtered as humanely as possible and as I previously said the Maltesse seem to keep their horses particularly well so eating one here didn't seem problematic to me.

The stew was a rich peppery concoction with peas and carrots, served in a crusty cob loaf . There was enough to feed several hungry Knights of St John but I got through it ok, washed done with their fine Maltese red. Would I eat horse again?  Probably not, because it is like a tough, dry beef, lacking in fat (which is my primary vice), so you might as well stick to beef. Happy now?

The Three Cities from Valletta

Before committing this heinous sin, we spent the day on a walking tour of Vittoriosa, the area to the south of Valletta. Like yesterday, we began by taking a ferry across the harbour but this time, to the south, to what is known as the Three Cities area. Once there we had a "full English breakfast" at a cafe on the waterfront before meeting with our guide, a local lady, who took us on an informative and entertaining 2 hour wander around the streets. She let us in on a number of interesting snippets about life in Malta's cities. Like the fact that one house may take up a variety of levels and parts of a building but you can tell which is part of which premises because a homeowner paints all their windows and doors the same colour. Thus if the top floor windows of one building are painted the same colour as the windows of what looks to be the adjoining building, then those rooms belong to that adjoining one.

On our return to Valletta we took the Barrakka lift from the ferry landing to the upper levels of the city. The lift is a 2012 glass structure that replaces an earlier 1905 one that whisks you up 58m, leaving your stomach at the bottom. Check out the pictures of it on the internet.

A Taste of Gozo

Today we took a 30euro tourist cruise to Gozo and Comino, the other 2 principal islands of Malta. Gozo is about a third the size of Malta and lived on in the same way. Comino is quite small and is a nature reserve with no permanent residents. Edward doesn't mention visiting either although given the time he spent here it is quite possible he did.

We started the day with a ferry accross the harbour  north of Valletta to where the cruise boat starts from. It was another cool, sunny day, perfect for boating. The boat travelled for about 2 hours north along the coast. We started with about 50 passengerss and called in at Birkikara, a large tourist resort town towards the northen tip of the island, where we picked up about another 50 passengers. We then proceeded on to Gozo where we were off loaded into a number of mini buses which proceeded to give us a lightening tour of this island. We were wizzed from site to site with a strict 15 minutes or so at each. We visited a food factory producing typical Maltese foods, the Shrine of the Blessed Virgin of Ta'Pinu a pilgrimage church built in the 1930s on the site of an older church where over the years a number of miracles attributed to the Blessed Virgin had occurred (I confess the more I see of religion, the less I understand it. Look the Shrine up on the internet and see if you understand what's going on) and finally Rabat Gozo (as opposed to Rabat on Malta), the capital of Gozo, which also has it's own walled Cittadel, similar to M'dina.

A view of Comino showing 2 of the many sculpted features in it's limestone rock

We then returned to the boat and were taken over to Comino which lies between Malta and Gozo. It's a windswept, limestone island with a number of features similar to the Blue Grotto on Malta. We were left to our own devices to walk around the island for about an hour before returning to the boat and returning to Valletta. It was a pleasant day out but a classic whirlwind tourist tour.

Speaking of Malta's limestone, it is ubiquitous. The islands are made of it, as is pretty well every structure on the island. As noted by Edward, the island is divided into small fields by dry stone limestone walls and the buildings are all made of limestone blocks. As a result everything is covered in a fine layer of limestone dust. Cars are covered in it, the streets are dusty with it and even in our appartment, a fine layer flakes off the walls and ceiling arches everyday.

All That Glitters Might Be Gold

Never was there a more priest-ridden community than this of Malta; the number of handsome churches seen in all parts of the island is something extraordinary for a population of a hundred thousand souls; the Church possesses a third of the lands, and priests are seen everywhere in swarms, Edward observed. He was right about the churches, there being a magnificent one on every corner. Whether the Church still owns a third of the land I don't know, but the priests are gone. We saw the odd priest or nun, primarily around church premises but not many. On the first Sunday we arrived, church attendance in the ones we passed appeared similar to that in old style churches in Australia; a few old couples, the odd family but lots of empty pews.

We visited St John's Cathederal where the degree to which the Maltese once loved (or feared) their god was clearly apparent. With ceiling frescos that took 6 years to paint and gilding that must be worth a fortune everywhere, it was awesome. I say feared because it seems they had a gruesome god from some of the macabre scenes. A cute little Cupid style angel standing with a foot each on a turban and a skull comes to mind.

St John's Cathederal

After visiting the Cathederal we took a trip across the island to the Blue Grotto, a celebrated natural sea arch which you can take a 30 minute trip through in a traditional style fishing dingy. At 8euro a head and 8 passengers a trip with a steady stream of  boats going at about 10 minute intervals, even in this their low season, it's unlikely that many of the local fishermen still go fishing. Tourists are a much more lucrative catch. We took our turn around and the water is undoubtedly a brilliant shade of blue. Apart from the arch which you putter under, there are several sea caves where your hand turns blue if you submerge it. The Mediterranean waters in general are startlingly clear and surprisingly clean. Edward doesn't specifically mention visiting the Grotto but given he spent nearly 2 months here, learning Italian in readiness for his trip through Italy, it is likely he did. He did say that Rides, and early walks, with picnics and parties...have agreeably filled up the time...and I have left scarcely a corner of the island unexplored. 

Blue Grotto

Edward also observed that considering the length of time that Malta has been a British possession, it appears surprising that the English language should be so little spoken or understood by the people of the island. He noted that only the uneducated spoke Maltese which is a corrupt Arabic, everyone else speaking primarily Italian and sometimes French. He thought it extraordinary that Italian should be adopted instead of English. He'd be pleased to find today that English is spoken everywhere, to the extent that I didn't bother with the customary, polite "do you speak English" because everyone does.

This evening we went to a free lecture at the National Library given by 2 postgrad students from the local university on Social Conditions of 17th Century Malta, as interpreted from a contemporary Notary's  journal and surviving petitions to the Knights, from various members of the public. The lecture was given in English which I guess is worldwide the language of science and academia. In the 17th Century Malta had a very heirarchical system, ruled by the Knights of St John, but they also had what appeared to be benevolent systems of social supports. Amongst the petitions there were several from indigent persons such as widows and orphans who requesed, and recieved, plots of land to live on. Can't imagine Centrelink giving out land to the unemployed. The lecture included a very pleasant supper of hors d'oeuvre and wine so that was dinner taken care of. 

An Urban Myth Dispelled

One of the first things Edward did was to visit Citta Vecchia-the ancient capital of Malta-the pretty public gardens of St Antonio, with their shady orange walks and cool fountains filled with gold and silver fish, the cave of St Paul and the Catacombs so we followed suit. Edward travelled by hired horse and he was impressed with these as they were capital, easy, free and good tempered; they are chiefly barbs exported from Tunis. There are a number of horse carriages giving rides to tourists in Valletta and I must say their horses are still in exceptionally good condition. Edward was charged 3/- a day for his horse and he felt that was wonderfully cheap. By today's standards that was about A$10 which isn't bad. We travelled by bus and while I doubt if the buses are Tunisian, I suspect some of the drivers maybe. The fare was 1.5euro each way and Malta must be one of the few countries in the world where you can travel clear accross the nation for a price like that.

The Gate of Mdina

Citta Vecchia is now known by its original name of Mdina and is a walled city with fantastic views back to Valletta, about 15kms away. We got there early, just after 9am, and had the place to ourselves. Walking the narrow winding streets and looking out from the ramparts really takes you  back in time because the place is much as it was hundred's of years ago. We had a delightful morning tea at a cafe right on the ramparts overlooking the countryside. By 10 the tourists were starting to arrive so we walked accross to the adjoining town of Rabat where the Catacombs are located. They have been much excavated and studied since Edward was there and as Edward described consist of a maze of low, narrow passages cut in the solid rock, a short distance below the surface; they are said to be so extensive that ... a school master with his scholars once entered these mysterious excavations , and that not one of the party ever reappeared. Edward might be disappointed to learn that current interpretative signage quotes that story but claims that it's an urban myth, common to a number of catacomb sites around the world. They are fascinating, however, having been built over a long period of time, as a rather labour intesive method of burying the dead.

After Citta Vecchia, Edward rode down to the Gardens of St Antonio. They were first established by a French knight in the 17th century, who had his palace there. It then became a Grand Masters residence, then the British Governor's residence, which it was when Edward visited, and today it is the President's residence. The garden's have been open to the public, on and off, throughout that time. There are still groves of orange trees and fountains with gold fish, much as Edward described. Trish also spotted a tree planted by the Maltese Soroptomist Club for their 25th anniversary. Being a Soroptomist herself, she determined that she would try and make contact with the local branch for a coffee.

Trish and the Soroptomist tree

A Club Worth Joining.

Edward initially stayed at Durnsford's Hotel in the Strada Reale,the main street of Malta, now known as Triq il Repubikka. I could find no reference to this hotel but after a few days in Valletta through the kind attention of Colonel G, my late fellow passenger in the Orinoko, I became today an honorary member of the Union Club, which is chiefly supported by the officers of the garrison, and, considering the very limited society of the island, the arrangements and style of the clubhouse appear to reflect great credit upon the management. 

The Malta Club still exists as a sporting and social club but the building it occupied in 1855 is now the National Archeology Museum, also in Triq il Republikka. Edward  doesn't state specifically whether the Club provided accommodation and staff at the Museum were unable to say definitively if it did but they said that the old club occupied the entire building that the Museum now shares with shops, offices and appartments so they thought it would be logical to assume it did.

The Museum of Archeology in what was the Union Club

Given that Edward seduced by the bright skies and other attractions of Malta and being desirous to make some progress in the study of Italian  decided to remain in Malta for nearly two months, it is likely that he did take accommodation in the Club as that would have meant the kind of society he  clearly enjoyed.

We visited the Museum of Archaeology and then the Grand Master's Palace where like Edward we saw the armoury of the Palace, where are preserved the armour suits worn by the renowned Lisle d"Adam, La Valette, and others although it is likely that some of the armour was misidentified because today it didn't appear that any of the suits were linked to those particular worthies. Apart from the armoury the rest of the Palace is currently closed for renonvation. However the entry way now contains a carriage which from Edward's description appears to be the state-carriage of the Grand Masters ... originally covered with gilding, but the French, when they took Malta, in 1788, carried their republican antipathy to anything like aristocratic state, so far as to disguise all this with a coating of coarse paint, that he saw at the Garden of St Antonio.

After that we we walked the ramparts which Edward did frequently during his sojourn, and they do have some spectacular views. Edward observed that The temperature is delicious, and  the clearness and regularity everywhere observable in Valetta, are in most agreeable contrast with the filth and disorder of the place I have so lately quitted (Crimea). The streets of Valetta are straight, evenly paved or Macadamized, and most scrupulously cleansed and swept daily, and the whole of the buildings being of fine white stone, the city has altogether a light, clean and cheerful appearance. That description still applies today and Valetta has an appeal that makes me understand Edward's decision to dally a while.

For dinner we went to Valletta's modern food court which has stalls representing all facets of traditional Maltese cuisine and downstairs where there is a supermarket selling bottles of very acceptable Maltese red for 4 euro! So we took a bottle back to our apartment.

How Do You Make a Maltese Cross?

Probably by running that old joke past him. But with that out of the way, our trip to Malta was pleasant and uneventful. Edward travelled on a steamer that he referred to as the Orinoko. I could find no reference to it under that spelling, or the currently more used Orinoco.

For his sailing accross the Mediterranean the weather was mostly soft, calm, delicious until the last few hours of the trip, when a storm came up of such intensity that they narrowly escaped passing the islands altogether, only sighting land as they passed the western extremity of Gozo the second of the two main islands that make up Malta. A quick turnaround saw them entering the quarantine harbour on the north side of the city of Valetta. Numbers of shore boats-queer, short little craft, with high cocked stems and sterns-were soon alongside. These boats still exist in Valletta Harbour but their sole function today seems to be conveying tourists on sightseeing trips around the Harbour.

If you can zoom in on the small boats you'll see they are like little stubby gondolas

We travelled from Perth to Malta on a Qatar airways flight. The trip took about 20 hours in all, including a 3 hour stopover in Doha which looked pretty dry and dusty from the air. As we continued on accross the Mediterranean we could see many of the Greek Islands that Edward sailed through and for us the weather remained soft, calm and delicious. From the air we could clearly see the numerous dry stone walls by which the land is enclosed and divided into, very small fields and plots although today many don't appear to be cultivated. I suspect the land value makes cultivation not worthwhile. On our arrival customs formalities were minimal and we were soon on our way by airport shuttle bus to our accommodation at 63 Triq il Bjar in Valetta.

Triq il Bjar, our doorway to the left.

Our accommodation was a self contained bed sit apartment in a building that probably existed in Edward's time but then would have probably been a storage room at the base of a large building. It was a windowless but otherwise pleasant, arched chamber, complete with kitchen, washing machine and ensuite shower.

After 20 hours of travel all we wanted was a meal and bed. Fortunately just around the corner was a restaurant, Nenu-the Artisan Baker, in a bakery that has existed for over a century, where the charming waiter Issac made our first night a delight with complimentary bruschetta, rabbit spaghetti, Maltese spiced coffee and a complimentary limoncello shot. All of which Issac assurred us was traditional Maltese style, much superior to their Italian equivalents. Issac's style was such that he pretty well guaranteed a return visit.

Adventure Tourism 1855 Style

After a hiatus of about 18 months, I'm about to resume progress on Edward's trip. I had got as far as Sri Lanka (with a quick return to Sydney to cover his time there).
From Sri Lanka Edward resumed his trip on the P&O ship Bengal, stopping in at Aden before continuing on to land at Suez. He was 15 years too early for the Suez Canal and in his day, you landed at Suez before travelling overland via Cairo to Alexandria where you once more boarded ship for further ports.

In Edward's case, he decided to pursue an early version of "adventure tourism" and visit the Crimean War! He initially intended to visit Syria and Palestine but unpleasant accounts of fever and sickness in those countries have served to deter me. While fever may have deterred him, war did not. Accounts from Sebastapol concur in representing that a general assault is likely to be soon attempted, and ... I am most desirous to reach the Crimea in time to witness that event!

To achieve that end Edward took ship for Constantinople from where he sought an audience with an Admiral Boxer and gained a permit to sail on the appropriately named Golden Fleece, to Balaklava, arriving on the last day of 1854. He then spent the next 8 days roaming quite freely around the battlefields of Balaklava and Sebastapol. Edward was clearly of the view that a gentleman citizen of the British Empire, such as he, had every right to go wherever he wished in the world to observe and comment upon what he saw. He was not impressed with much of how the war was being conducted by the British, passing scathing comment on inefficiency and the lack of concern for lower ranks.

A few years ago Trish spotted this print of an 1856 British camp near Sebastapol in a Perth junk shop. It now hangs in our dining room and represents what Edward may have seen.

Fortunately military hardware of that time was not as efficient as today's. For example he describes traversing  one area of conflict where he was told that mounted persons were seldom allowed a pass without the compliment of a shot or a shell, and the snow rendered me very conspicuous. I was almost affronted at being treated with such contempt, as I felt half a wish to see a shot or two strike the ground about me, provided they did not come too near. 

Now all this presents something of a problem for me. Since we were last on Edward's trail, my wife Trish has been diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma, a blood disorder which compromises her immune system. Thus travel in countries with hygiene issues and inefficient health systems (like Egypt, sorry Egypt but we've been there before and there are issues) is problematic for Trish. Likewise, 170 years on and the Crimean issues are still unresolved. Crimea is still disputed territory. According to Ukraine and most of the rest of the world, including Australia, the Crimea is part of Ukraine. However, according to most of the population of Crimea, and to Russia, it's part of Russia. My understanding is that the only way to enter Crimea currently is to fly to Moscow and then travel down from there. For an Australian to visit Crimea at the moment could well result in a visit from ASIO on return, asking you to explain exactly what you thought you were doing.

I can't have quite inherited Edward's spirit of adventure (although I can claim that he was a single man without a wife's opinion to consider) because the thought of confronting the issues mentioned above does not appeal. Hopefully in years to come the Crimean issues may become better resolved and at that time I could retrace Edward's path through Egypt and the Crimea.

For now, however, Trish and I have decided to skip those areas and travel to Malta which is where Edward went after visiting the Crimea. We then plan to travel on to Sicily, then mainland Italy from Naples up to Rome. Trish's health situation requires her to have 3 monthly checkups to ensure her condition is under control. We will therefore need to return home rather than continue through Northern Italy and into France. That we can do at a later date.