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.