It All Went Very Smoothly Until . . .

 Buon giorno,

Spoiler. I made it to Verona all right, but it was touch and go for a while.

Pick up, check in, security--all smooth as silk. I hung out in the Star Alliance lounge and had a small snack and some water. Time to board. All good.

I flew Lufthansa. Coach was uncomfortable. The seats had no padding! I was unimpressed with their premium economy, but. business is NICE.  I was in one of the "basic" business seats--there are fancier ones, but I had ample room, and it was very comfortable. They gave me a nice amenity kit, a thick blanket, a cushy pillow, slippers and a sleep shirt.

I tried their signature cocktail the Avionic and very tasty it was. Then I switched to champagne for my starter of burrata and roasted and pickled veg followed by some salmon with spinach, leek, and some truly excellent saffron mashed potatoes. I had the cheese course for desert. No pictures this time though,

My seat mate was a lovely woman from Estonia, and we discovered a mutual passion for visiting Italy. The only problem was I was in the window seat, and in the middle of the night when I had to go, I had to climb over her to get to the toilet. This is kind of hard when one is in one's mid 70s.

I'd ordered a nice breakfast but when it came, I had no appetite. I drank my tea and took a couple of bites to be polite, but that's all I could face.

Then we landed in Frankfurt. I remember liking the airport on previous trips. I no longer do although I may get over it. Because I came face to face with--dun dun dun--the dreaded EES Nightmare. First of all even finding passport control was hard. Then--oh my god--the line stretched into infinity. I was naughty and took a cut and then was directed downstairs to another border control station. The line wasn't as bad, but It. Did. Not. Move. I'm serious. I thought I had plenty of time to make my flight. Nuh uh. I was in that stupid line for over an hour, a lot of people were worse off than I was. I finally got through just as my flight was scheduled to leave.  Trust me I have never prayed so hard for a flight to be delayed.

And it was! I had half an hour and the gate was close by. Only then they made me go through security again. What happened to German efficiency? They dawdled around with the bags and made most travelers open them for inspection. Once I got to the front, I was waved off and I sprinted for my gate. 

They were still boarding so I checked in and got on the bus for a long ride and a long wait. But I was on the plane to Verona!  I was so frazzled I accepted a glass of Prosecco and had a nice snack of olives.

This is my neighborhood.

This is my living room.

But I can tell right now I'm going to enjoy Verona. I landed on my little pink feet staying in the heart of the historic center, and I even have an up grade. I strolled around a bit, but frankly I'm a wreck, so real touristing is going to have to wait to the morrow.

Ciao for now

Malta: The Heart of the Mediterranean

 

A Good Day to You,

Here I am at Malta International Airport. I'd booked a cab, but the company switched drivers at the last minute so my taxi was twenty minutes late. The driver called me, but the wait was still stressful. Fortunately the airport is not far from the city center. There was no line at check in, and security went quickly. I had time to visit duty free, squirt myself with some expensive perfume, and get a birthday present of Maltese chocolate for a non-blog reader.

I preordered my main courses. There was a nice selection of brunches for the Malta to Zurich leg. We'll see how it works out. Boarding is in ten minutes. I had a very early breakfast, showered and washed my hair and got packed up, making sure my gadgets were fully charged. Then I had to wrestle my bags downstairs--never fun. Going down is worse than going up as I am afraid of falling. Anyway I'm hungry and looking forward to my meal.

And you can see it above--some lovely crepes with spinach and ricotta, plus potatoes.  Because I preordered I had a much nicer brunch than the rest of the Biz Class passengers.

Then I had a Very Tight connection to my flight to LAX. But perks of business class--they sent a special shuttle for us to deliver us from the tarmac to a terminal. I had to take the airport subway, and then I lucked out because there was No Line at Passport Control. But, of course, the gate I needed was at the very end of the terminal. I arrived after boarding started, but--hey--business class. I got a personal escort to the head of the line.

I settled into my seat and graciously accepted my welcome drink. For the starter I had a green salad and an artichoke salad. Here's my main course of haddock, in green pea sauce, plus some roasted veg and mashed potatoes.

Once again, my dinner was much nicer than the other offerings. But I was disappointed that instead of getting to chose a breakfast we were fed another lunch. My pasta salad was boring, and I didn't bother to take a photo. 

I got some decent sleep on the journey, but I'm still kinda jet lagged.

I want to return to Malta. I feel I missed out on a lot of opportunities due to lack of physical credit and debit cards. I had no way to get cash, for example. But I also greatly enjoyed my visit to this fascinating place. I met with nothing but a kind welcome, and I got some solid exercise going up and down those stairs.

Old Bakery Street

 

Good Day to You,

I have enough internet juice to begin a post. I cannot promise I'll be able to publish it. I very much like my accommodations in Valletta--except for the unreliable wireless. The room is comfortable and well equipped.  I have the opposite problem that I did at Perugia. There I had no hot water from the tap. Here the water quickly gets extremely hot, and I need to be careful not to scald myself, but the hot showers are lovely. The staff are friendly and obliging and come to check on my every afternoon.  The day before yesterday, I had them change the linens on my bed, etc.

My apartment building is on a quiet street, and true I have to walk uphill for nearly everything, but it's very well located, and one of my purposes in coming to Europe is to walk and get exercise.

Since I can't find out information or book tickets on-line--or even use the map function, I just walk around. I have a map and can find some points of interest.

One of the most historic streets is Old Bakery Street, one of the oldest streets in Valletta. The bakery is gone, but some history remains. I draw your attention to the buildings. See the protruding enclosed balcony affairs? That is a common feature of Valletta residences. My building doesn't have one, so I don't know what they're like. 

                                                    

Old Bakery Street also features one of those magnificent Baroque churches, this one dedicated to St. Augustine. It is clearly a living church and not a tourist attraction as a service was going on when I visited.

I also took a photo of one of the main piazzas and its al fresco dining.

I enjoyed my apero of olives, almonds, and some sheep's milk cheese. I like ALL cheeses, but as I am old, I find it easier to digest goat and sheeps milk cheeses. I guess there's less lactose? The Maltese rose is the perfect accompaniment. It also works with the tuna I had for dinner.

Upper Barrakka Gardens

 

Good Day to You

I'm catching up on my posts, so this was yesterday's activity, not today's. I had to find something that did not require a ticket. Fortunately Valletta, despite the climbing and All Those Stairs, is fun to walk around. I went down toward the harbor to visit the Victoria Gate.

                                            

One site highly touted is the Upper Barrakka Gardens. There's a Lower Barrakka Garden, too, and I passed it on my way to Fort St. Elmo, but it's under repair, so all I saw was the tops of the trees. But yeah--a park! I was excited. And then very let down. There were plenty of tourists, and the views across the city and harbor are terrific, but the place isn't really a park or garden. It's a piazza with a few flowers and shrubs.

I figured out that all those references to "Melita" were to the Island itself in the Maltese (Melitan?) Language. Melita comes from a Greek word for a species of honey bees, since the islands were and still are famous for their honey. Under Arab influence this became Malta. But there's another theory.  The name could stem from the  Phoenician term "Maleth" meaning refuge, and that makes a lot of sense as well.

Let's talk about Apero. Mine is So Very Med. I have some olives, lush and salty and some raw almonds and a splash of Prosecco to wash it down. I have some bitter extra virgin olive oil, and I'm lovint the Maltese bread and cheeses. I've tried cows milk, sheep's milk and goat milk, which tend toward the hard side, so I slice it thin and enjoy.  I follow the Mediterranean Diet at home and eat a lot of fish. Italian tuna is good. I'll have some for dinner today. I like plain best, but if you want flavors, you can find them. I have settled on my favorite Maltese wine--a rose frizzante, meaning slightly fizzy. It goes with everything.

I'm not sure what I'm going to do the rest of my trip. The weather may turn. There's rain in the forecast for later today and for the rest of my visit. Bad weather may or may not happen, but for now I need to get caught up on my bike race.

Bye for now

Valletta's Latest Attraction: Mysterium Fidei

 After two days of NO INTERNET I finally got the thing to work. My posts for the next few days may be feeble. No internet meant no way to buy tickets or find out what was going on. My phone didn't work well either. I had a hard time getting the weather or receiving emails.

                                               

Good Day to You

I've been sleeping a lot, but I'm always tired. Is this old age catching up with me or am I fighting with a bug I picked up on the plane? It's also significantly colder than I anticipated. Before booking my trip, I did check out the weather and packed accordingly, but weather forecasts aren't 100% reliable, so I'm often uncomfortable when I'm out and about. [The weather has turned warmer.When I was out today I took off my sweater.]

Today I decided to see a newly opened museum in Valletta. They call it a monastery, but it was--and still is?-- a convent of nuns dedicated to Catherine of Alexandria. The foundation is over 400 years old, but just recently opened to the public. I booked a ticket on line--no discount for being old this time.

I found the place and went in. It's clearly a very old building and the tour comprises the cloisters, work room, and some living quarters. Once a girl was accepted (and as she was a bride of Christ a dowry the family had to provide a dowry) she vowed never to leave the confines of the convent. No, not even in death. Nums were buried under the floor in one of the chapels. In Modern Times the Government of Malta decreed that this was no longer possible causing the sister such distress they had to rescind the order.

                              

St. Catherine's was never a wealthy convent, but the nuns lived austerely and dedicated their lives to charity. They produced a lot of food, which they sent out to feed the poor.

The building is bare bones stone with no excess or extravagance. The furnishings are sparse and look uncomfortable. I'd guess it was pretty bleak in winter but protected from the summer's heat.

                                                 

The highlight for me was the lovely cloister garden where the nuns grew herbs, fruit, and vegetables for themselves and the poor. But there was a bonus! I spotted a tiny, orange kitten, and I spoke to it. "Ah. It's Auntie Pil. I will allow her to pet me."

Bye for Now

X

Ft. St. Elmo and Malta's History of Sieges

 

Good Day to You.

Who is St. Elmo, you may be asking, and is he the guy with the fire. Yes. The atmospheric phenomenon where lightening seems to play about ships' masts is associated with him, and he is also the patron and protector of sailors, so it makes sense that the fort was named after him.

A cold sharp wind blew down by the harbor. I'd booked my ticket on line and got a discount for being old. My age has saved me at least fifteen euro so far. As far as the fort and museum goes, if you aren't keen on Military History, spend your time elsewhere. The fort itself is not attractive, and there's little of interest there beyond the museum.

The reward for occupying a strategic position in the Mediterranean sea lanes, is that everyone wants a piece of you. Malta was fairly safe during the Neolithic Period, but once the Bronze Age started so did the attempts to take over.

Fort St. Elmo is considered one of Valletta's major tourist sites. It was built in the late Sixteenth Century by the Knights of St. John, and is a star shaped fortress, which means it was built to withstand artillery. The Ottomans were determined to seize the archipelago and toss out those annoying Christians. They gave it their best shot, and the island suffered--but it held--and not for the last time.

This is the chapel of St. Anne used to commemorate the many dead from the attacks.

The National War Museum of Malta advertises itself as covering a staggering 7,000 years of Military History. This is technically true, but the early periods have thin representation, and the emphasis is on World War II.

Germany regarded control of Malta as key to their victory in North Africa because of supply lines. The British and the Maltese were determined to resist.  The island and especially the port of Valletta was ruthlessly targeted. The NAZIs hoped to bomb the population into submission.  This did not work.

In gratitude for the courage and determination of the people, King George VI awarded Malta the George Medal, the UK's highest military honor. The medal and hand written letter from the King is proudly displayed in the museum. But as the United States also realized, it's no fun being a colony. Malta gained self government in 1964 and the British Military gave up their bases some ten years later.

And did you know that President George HW Bush met Mihail Gorbachev on Malta? I didn't, but it was a key meeting to end the Cold War. Too bad it didn't last.

Part of Valletta Habor

Bye for now

More Baroque Splendor

Good Day to You,

I got more sleep last night, but I feel more tired. I'll get the start of a bike race this afternoon. At home they come on early in the morning.

So I assumed that the patron saint of the Island of Malta was St. John the Baptist. I assumed wrong. The real patron saint of the island was a man who actually made it here--although his visit may have been accidental.

The Apostle Paul traveled a lot mostly in Western Asia and Greece converting people to Christianity and founding churches left, right, and center. His activities attracted the attention of the Roman authorities, and he was imprisoned more than once. Finally, as apparently he was a Roman Citizen, he appealed to Caesar, so he was sent by ship to Rome.

On the way the ship he was on was wrecked in a storm, and Paul and his fellow passengers swam for their lives reaching the north coast of the island. Several sites are traditionally associated with Paul including a cave where he took shelter and preached from. One story is that he build a fire to comfort his fellow wreckies when he was bitten by a poisonous viper. But he was not affected by the venom, which impressed the on lookers and gave credence to his message.

The church I visited today, commemorates the shipwreck and Paul's stay on Malta. I mostly had the place to myself as I tend to go out early. The decoration is gorgeous and the nave is well provided with frescoes, marble, gilt, and statuary. The visitor does not have to pay to get in, but it is polite to leave a small offering.

                                                

Then I went back to the grocery store because I had plans to do something Maltese to celebrate the bike race. I'll keep you in suspense for a little while.

I did some wandering around before visiting the church because Valletta is just fun to stroll in, except for the stairs. I accept their existence. I don't like using them. I paid attention to the many touristy shops along the main drags in the historic center. I didn't see anything apart from the usual offerings, which I suspect are mass produced and then customized for each location.

The Maltese love a native soft drink called Kimmie. I witnessed one of my fellow passengers--a native of Malta--lunging towards a store selling the stuff when we landed. It's their version of coke, but it's not cola. I'm tasting it. It's vaguely fruity and sort of herbal. I like it straight, but I'm going to add some Prosecco to make a spritz. That's very nice, too and properly celebratory of the bike race.

Bye for now