Chris Sullivan visits the Mediterranean island under British rule from 1800-1964, but finds the local culture far more illuminating.
Ever since I started running Soho nightclubs in 1980 I’ve wanted to visit Malta. At that time, Soho was virtually controlled by such larger-than-life Maltese characters such as Big Frank Mifsud, and they intrigued me. I wanted to see where these guys came from and it was surprisingly simple. I found an Easyjet flight for £100, packed a small carry-on and off I jolly well went to Southend Airport, which was an unparalleled joy compared to Stansted, Gatwick or Luton. It’s easier to get to, small and bijoux and entirely without halls and halls of duty free twits trying to offload some inferior perfume on you.
Upon arrival in Valetta, being a lazy oaf I made the mistake of getting a £20 taxi into the city, whose driver refused to drop me at our hotel, proclaiming he was not allowed to enter the centre. A bus costing only two euros would have dropped us off in exactly the same place. What followed was a ridiculously taxing walk dragging my wheeled suitcase up and down the cobbled and stepped hills of Valetta in search of the hotel. However, it wasn’t all bad as, completely lost, we followed what I thought was a recording of The Marriage of Figaro Duettino – Sull ‘Aria. Used in The Shawshank Redemption, it was being played live by the full 40-piece Malta Philharmonic Orchestra and sung by world renowned soprano Nicole Said, right in St George Square and for free!
I eventually found my B&B Princes Elena on St Paul Street in a location I’d already walked down several times. Set within a former 16th century townhouse replete with beautiful original features, it was the perfect place to start my adventure in this city built by ‘gentlemen for gentlemen.’ We dined at La Pira Maltese Kitchen. I opted for octopus to start, up there with the finest I have ever had, and Spaghetti Vongole that was as tasty as I’ve had in Italy and better than in London, aided and abetted by a bottle or two of the rather palatable Maltese La Torra Shiraz Rose.
Next day, after breakfast, proprietor Sicilian Walter Cannavo suggested that, rather than check out the beaches in Malta, we visit the Blue Lagoon and Gozo. An online glance at the likes of St Paul’s Bay, St Georges Bay, Bugiba, Xemixija Bay and Mellieha didn’t strike me as suitable for a gentleman or lady of discernment, so we ditched all plans and decided to go to the nearby island of Gozo, after we completed our Valetta itinerary.
First on the agenda was the rather inspiring pair of Caravaggios, the dark and disturbing The Beheading of St John the Baptist and St Jerome Writing, at the oratory of the astounding, St. John’s Co-Cathedral in Valletta. A marvel of Baroque art and architecture, the edifice was built as the conventional church for the Knights of St John of Jerusalem, to whom Milanese Michelangelo Merisi AKA Caravaggio fled in July 1607 after killing a man, Ranuccio Tomassoni, in one of his frequent brawls in Rome. He was ordained a Knight of St John that year but, after a period of relative calm, the mercurial genius was arrested in August 1608 for badly wounding a high-ranking Knight of St John. Thus, imprisoned at Fort St Angelo, disgraced and disallowed to paint, he broke-out of the gaol in October 1608 and once again on the run, he was immediately expelled from the Order. Indeed, some historians have claimed that the knights killed him.
The Order’s influence is everywhere in Valetta. They built the island’s new capital in 1571, named after The Order’s Grand Master Jean de Valette. It was the first conurbation to be built on a grid plan and the Order’s rule lasted until 1798, when Malta capitulated to Napoleon. In 1800 the British (whom The Maltese had called on for help) in turn defeated the French and stayed until 1964, causing the Maltese to adopt the British system of public administration, education and legislation.
And as we walked through the streets of Valetta, the British influence was all too evident. One Street boasts a Peacocks and Marks & Spencer, while the old red phone boxes are everywhere; but one can avoid all this. Café Jubilee Valetta is a lovely little gaff that served us a few delicious Maltese snacks; the Pastizzi, a pasty filed with ricotta or pea paste; Zalzett Malti, Maltese sausagecooked with aromatic coriander; a spinach and tuna pie and, as it was so very warm, a good half dozen pints of the local lager Cisk. Afterwards we moseyed on down to the harbour and did what the locals do, walking north along the coast to a bunch of hidden swimming holes and tunnels that connect St Elmo to the sea. I fell asleep on the stone and awoke two hours later, a little red and somewhat bleary. Sunshine has been known to make a chap rather fatigued so I took to my bed for a few hours.
Luckily the next restaurant, Beat Paoli, was next to the B+B. Simply magnificent, I actually took pictures of the grub until I came to my senses and slapped myself hard across the mush. But by crikey it was spiffing. We started with a rather incredible Maltese cheese called Gbejniet. I followed with the most amazing rabbit stew that, a classic Maltese dish, was the chef’s great grandmother’s recipe, while my companion settled for sea bass with king prawns and samphire, declaring it the finest she had ever eaten! And there was little to complain about the few bottles of the Maltese Marsovin Marnisi 2007 either. After such a sumptuous dinner it was off to The Bridge Bar jazz sessions, entirely free in the open air, playing that late 50s Blue Note style that is my type of jazz. To add a bottle of wine was €12 and large vodka and tonic was €3, so we stayed quite a while and staggered back to our B+B, deciding to go to Gozo the next day.
The septuagenarian cab driver that picked us up at Gozo ferry terminal had lived in London for a while, and knew some of those Maltese chaps I had known. To get to Gozo, we’d travelled to the Maltese ferry port of Cirkewwaby by bus and jumped on the 30-minute ferry to Mgarr, Gozo. Our first port of call was to the B&B Angels Cove near the town of ix-Xaghra. On the night we arrived, 8th September, was holding its biggest street party of the year. Festivities centre on the Basilica dedicated to the Nativity of the Virgin Mary, locally known as ‘Il-Bambina.’ The party celebrates said virgin and also the victory of the Knights of Malta over the Turks in the Great Siege of 1565. And what a hoot it is too. All the aforementioned street food is available at stalls for 30p a pastry, a beer is a quid while the whole town centre is filled with bars; fireworks go on till 2am and the whole town goes bonkers to the strains of two rather exceptional 60-piece brass bands. I became almost ecstatic with joy when they played Nino Rota’s theme for Fellini’s 8 ½ towards midnight.
Next day we moved to In-Nadur and into the Gozo B&B, only €45 a night for a triple en-suite room with breakfast. No taxis were available as the whole town was hungover, so we were given a lift by Angels Cove proprietor Gabor, who from then on kindly chaperoned us about the island. We went to the beach at San Blass; once a lovely little sandy cove, it is now a lovely little rocky cove, since a hurricane washed all the sand away. Here we met Frisky, owner of the beach bar, who served us the most amazing mussels I have ever tasted, drove us home and dined out with us at the fabulous Osteria Scottaditto. I went for the ceviche and the deep fried olives stuffed with beef, chicken and nutmeg followed by a fillet of the local Lambuki fish that was out of this world, all washed down by a few bottles of Maltese Meridian Estate Melqart 2016 Superior Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot, which was everything the name suggests, and a little bit more.
Next day we managed to get a lift to the island of Comino and the Blue Lagoon from Frisky’s pal, who runs the water sports on this sister island. Arriving at 10am, a little the worse for wear, but on seeing that aqua almost milky turquoise sea as clear as Perrier, all was kushti. Best option here is to go left of the marina underneath the cliffs into this natural cove and not to walk to Santa Maria Bay, which is forgettable. Nevertheless, Comino with its astonishing water was a rare treat to find at only a 3-hour flight away from the UK.
All in all, everything was cracking on Gozo; the rocky Dahlet Qorrot Beach was empty, clean and just perfect, the pebble beach Wied Il-Ghasri (a narrow gorge cutting through vertical cliffs on either side) was as spectacular as one might ever find, while the Azure Window, also known as the Dwejra Window, a 30-metre-tall natural limestone arch that, used as a location for the Dothraki wedding scene in the first season of Game of Thrones, is the stuff of myth. Of course, we weren’t there for long enough. We didn’t have time to check the Cittadella or It-Telgha tal-Belt – supposedly the acropolis of Glauconis Civitas that lords over the capital city of Victoria; and we missed the Gun Blast firing range near Nadur, where for €60 per person you can fire pistols and automatic rifles such as M4, AR15, Glock and CZ75.
Undeniably, the good thing about missing out on a few must-sees is that one is forced to go back and, as Gabor advised, the best time to go is October or May-June (when temperatures are between 25 and 30 degrees). I will be back for sure. So if one books flights way in advance at £70 return per person, stay at off peak B & Bs that cost just £350 for two for a week, a week in the sun is affordable, especially as the cost of three-course fine dining, including copious amounts of local wine, is about £35 a head, a pint of beer or a large glass of wine is a couple of quid, and buses are £2 to go anywhere!
With its crystal clear blue sea, beautiful beaches, amazing history and, last but not least, sincerely lovely people who go out of their way to help in every way, Malta or Gozo, or both, make so much sense.
