I’ll Meet You By The Wembley

If you live in Malta you will, at some point in your life, have met someone by the Wembley Store. This store has probably seen more meetings than any other place on the island. Its location on a corner between Republic and South streets in Valletta, and opposite the old opera house, seems to make it an ideal venue where to meet someone in the city. It’s not that Valletta lacks landmarks. I think it’s just that its location is ideal as it is just a few metres away from the entrance to the city.

The store itself was opened in 1924 by Emanuel Gauci. Its name was inspired by the British Empire Exhibition held at Wembley (London) that same year. During the second World War the bombs that destroyed the opera house also damaged the store but it still continued to serve customers and, once the war was over, it was renovated and enlarged. Recently the store has again been refurbished and the façade embellished to give the shop a turn-of-the-century feel. I think it looks great and that it will continue to be a meeting place for many years to come.

The Wembley Store

305 Republic Street

Valletta

A Girna And A Moment That Took My Breath Away

There is a saying which goes something like this:

Life is not counted by the number of breaths you take but by those moments that take your breath away.

I thought that there was not much left on this little island that could take my breath away. I felt I had seen all there was to see. But sometimes I come across something which, in its sheer simplicity, is so pretty that it literally does leave me breathless for a moment or two.

This humble girna did just that and so much more. I suppose it all had to do with the fact that it was so unexpected – the contrast of the hash stone and the hundreds of vibrant yellow flowers. It seemed like the perfect place to be alone and write or read a good book. Or to just close my eyes and let myself be deafened by the silence. While the structure itself does not look like much more than a hovel, yet the view and its surroundings are fit for a king or, in my case, for a queen. And I would not mind being a queen of all this for a day, or even for an hour …

Note

A girna is a small hut built of stones often found in fields or in the countryside. They were used by farmers to store their tools, as shelter for livestock or as a short term dwelling when work in the fields became particularly intensive. These small buildings come in a variety of shapes but the most common shape is circular or oval. The interior is always domed and the roofs are flat.

While these corbelled stone huts are quite a common sight all over the countryside this girna at Fawwara is one of the most picturesque that I have seen.

Marsaxlokk & A Tale Of An Ancient Harbour

In the southern part of our island there is a fishing village called Marsaxlokk. Its name is derived from the Arabic word for harbour (marsa) and the Maltese word for the south-east wind (xlokk). It is a picturesque little place – a village by the sea; the water of its bay dotted with boats. A sleepy little place, ideal for a family stroll. A harbour whose limpid waters have,since ancient times, provided sanctuary to countless ships and boats.

Around 3000 years ago the Phoenicians sailed into this harbour, bringing with them their cargo of precious purple dye and superstitions that have lived on to this day. Traditional Maltese boats are painted in vibrant colours and usually, on the bow, you will find the Eyes of Horus (or the Eyes of Osiris) for protection and good luck. It is a common tradition that these eyes have been painted on Maltese boats since that time.

The fact that these ancient mariners settled in the area can be confirmed by the temple they built to Astarte, their goddess of love, on the top of a hill overlooking this natural harbour.

 

Although Marsaxlokk is a typical Mediterranean village, where nothing much seems to happen except for the excitement of the daily catch, it has played its own role in the turbulent history of this island. In 1565 it witnessed an attack on the island by the Ottoman Turks, an attack which later turned into the Great Siege of 1565.

It was also the harbour used by Napoleon in 1798, when he took over the island from the Knights of St John and launched his attack on Egypt.

In 1989, Marsaxlokk was the venue for a summit held between George Bush and Mikhail Gorbachev onboard the Russian cruiser Maxim Gorky – a summit which effectively ended the cold war.

Yet I doubt whether most of us give a second thought to these events as we stroll along the sleepy promenade, watching the boats bobbing peacefully in the water. Because, on the land there is no reminder of the embattled past and, as the fishermen will tell you, the sea very rarely gives up its secrets.

Fields of Scarlet, Fields of Gold

There’s a certain magic afoot at this time of year – the magic of nature, the magic of spring.

It seems to happen overnight, what once 3was a field of green grass is now carpeted in vibrant hues of red and yellow – crimson and gold.

Because as April’s warm winds reach our shores, a period of rapid growth occurs. It seems as if Nature explodes and the countryside dons its party clothes before the climbing temperatures withers everything that isn’t watered.

I don’t know whether it’s by chance or by design, but very often, these fields of crimson and fields of gold are found almost adjacent to each other.

The flowers which cause this pretty spectacle are the clover and the crown daisy: red and yellow; crimson and gold.

 

Photographed on the hills of Dwejra

Fawwara – a Hidden Gem Beneath The Cliffs

Have you ever visited a place in your childhood that you never went to again but that lived on in your  memory as a place of spectacular beauty? Well, Fawwara was that place for me. Over the years I would hear  people talk about its uniqueness and its pretty views and I always longed to go back. But somehow, the time and opportunity never seemed to arise. But last Saturday we took the narrow, winding road to this little hamlet situated beneath Dingli cliffs.

The Chapel Of The Annunciation

So we followed the road that brought us first to the chapel of the Annunciation – above us the steep cliffs and below us the blue, blue sea. We headed on a bit more till the road just became a dirt path. At the end of the road was the chapel dedicated to Our Lady of Carmel (more about these two chapels in a future post). The view was magnificent: fields, the garigue, wild flowers, the sea and, in the distance, the little islet of Filfla.

And all around us, the sound of silence – broken only by the chirping and twittering of birds. In this place, time had stood still, nothing had changed and memories from my first visit so many years ago came flooding back. The view, the cliffs, the scattered farmhouses, the caves – the very same caves that had sheltered Bronze Age men and women – I could feel the place working its magic on me.

I had found a place which seemed untouched by the outside world and I felt that, like Rip van Winkle, I could stay there for an hour and a day only to return to the outside world and find out that 20 years had flown by while I was just gazing in rapture at nature’s wild beauty.

 

Note

I could not fund much historical information about Fawwara. The name Fawwara is derived from the Maltese word for a spring of natural water. The area of Fawwara known as Gebel Ciantar seems to have been settled since Bronze Age times when the inhabitants made use of the many caves that dot the cliffs as their dwellings. The cliffs themselves provided an impregnable fortress against any would-be marauders. In the 13th century it is said that the Arab overlord Ali Sid killed and tortured a number of young girls from Fawwara for refusing to convert to the Islamic faith. I could find no historical data to back this story. But then, what place would be complete without its legends?

The Chapel of Our Lady of Carmel

The New Star Of Strait Street

I walked past this façade a couple of times wondering  what was inside. At first I thought it might be a new kinky boutique or some type of club or even a dance hall. It was intriguing, to say the least.

Then I looked up at the sign above the door (just visible in the photo above) and it explained everything. This is the new public bathroom in Strait Street. Strait Street has a very chequered history, which I will write about some other time, but for many years it was Valletta’s red light district.

So I thought that the newly refurbished building was quite in keeping with the street’s past – wouldn’t you agree?

Strait Street

Valletta

A Tale Of A Solitary Stroll

I took a walk on a mild winter’s day through the winding streets of an old, old town.

I stopped several times on my solitary stroll next to houses that were built when the town was young.

And as I touched their weathered stones I wondered, as I always do, about all the lives that these walls must have sheltered.

I had so many questions that I wanted to ask:

If I opened this door, where would it lead?

Who lived in this house?

Who drank from this trough?

There are such pretty colours here – was it always like this?

Did people pray at the foot of this cross?

What children played played in this small alley-way? And where are they now?

But these buildings hold on to their secrets too well. I am left to stroll the streets with my questions as companions. Maybe next time, I whisper, you will give me a glimpse of the answers I seek. Perhaps I imagined it, but it seemed to me that the faintest of chuckles accompanied me for the rest of my walk.

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Believe me, I try, I  really do try not to get carried away but if I had to just recite historical  facts this blog would be too boring, don’t you think? I believe that we all need small doses of fantasy every now and then.

Tradition has it that the area I strolled through used to be a Jewish ghetto prior to their expulsion in 1492. According to an article entitled Jews of Malta on the website Beit Hatfutsot, there is no evidence to support this as the Jews here were free to mingle with the rest of the  population. Some Jewish remains have however been found in the  nearby burial site known as St  Paul’s catacombs, which makes them unique since they are Jewish catacombs within a Christian complex. So there definitely used to be a few families living in  this area in the distant past.

Photographed in the Hal-Bajjada area of Rabat.

Wild flowers of Malta: Borage

Borage (Borago officinalis) is a wild plant that is commonly found in the Maltese countryside. Between January and  May the plants are covered with tiny blue star-shaped flowers which have white and black centres. Small, stiff bristles grow on the stems and leaves. Borage was originally a native of Syria but has now spread all over the Mediterranean, North Africa, Europe and Asia Minor. Both the flowers and the leaves are edible and, in some countries, are sometimes included in salads since they have a sweet, cucumber-like taste. The flowers are sometimes candied and used to decorate cakes.

Borage is said to have various medicinal properties and has been used to calm nerves, as a diuretic, tonic, emollient, sedative and expectorant, amongst other uses.

Very rarely the plant may produce pink or white flowers. However, I have only seen these flowers in photos. I hope that one day I will come across them on one of my countryside walks so that I can share them with you. In truth, I find the blue-coloured flowers to be quite interesting since they  provide an interesting contrast to the more common yellows and whites of other wild flowers.

An Island At The Crossroads

Photo source

I rarely write about current events on this blog but I cannot fail to do so during this time of upheaval. After the quick shift of power in Tunisia and Egypt, the revolution in Libya is turning into a bloodbath and the winds of civil war are howling around the streets of Tripoli. With just 210 miles of deep blue sea separating us from our Libyan neighbours, Malta has become the main hub which other countries are using to rescue thousands of their workers stranded in Tripoli, Benghazi and other cities or from remote areas in the desert. To date, over 12,000 people have made it to our shores by air, ship or catamaran. Almost overnight, this little island has become a humanitarian base, acting as a stepping stone for all those that have fled Libya and now wish to continue on their journey  homewards.

Photo source

Perhaps I find it rather ironic that in times of peace Malta is so easily forgotten and dismissed as just an island which is the southern-most tip of Europe, of no importance whatsoever – and this is not far from the truth. But in times of war and crisis, the story is very different.

The Mediterranean is an ancient sea and for thousands of years the superpowers that conquered the until-then known world, rose and fell on its shores. Greeks, Carthaginians, Romans, Byzantines, Moors, Turks – their dominion has come and gone, their memory entrenched forever in our souls, their legacy still part of our daily lives. As the world focuses its eyes on North Africa, I believe that the final chapter in the history of this embattled sea still needs to be written and that the final curtain on this drama still needs to rise. Which makes me wonder what further part this island at the crossroads will have to play in the history of this oldest of seas ... but that is a story which only time can reveal.

Country Roads

 

Do you want to take a walk with me along some pretty country roads? I am sure that Nature will show us some of her wonders – like these golden crown daisies; clumps of borage and blooming asphodel.

We’ll see trees, still leafless and forlorn, and others that have burst into colourful blooms and blossoms.

In bare branches, empty nests wait for new eggs to be laid and in the undergrowth, silent snails leave a shimmering, silvery path as they slither up stalks – perhaps to feel the warmth of the sun?

We’ll hear the song of the birds and the gurgling of little streams. A few bees and butterflies might buzz around our head as all of Nature waits for the signal that will herald the exuberant growth of soon-coming Spring.