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.