Most Maltese speak English as a second language, and the English are welcome. The weather is very Mediterranean (obviously), and is hot and sunny most of the time, February and March are perhaps the worst weather, July and August get too hot to be comfortable, October/November is about right.

We're flying from Gatwick this time. Gatwick isn't the easiest airport to get to if you don't take a car. But I've found these internet sites which sell airport parking at a fraction of the regular price, so I've got the car parked in the Gatwick long term without it costing an arm and a leg. 

Three hours to Gatwick??
It's a 10:30 flight, but I admit it - old age is creeping up on me, I still don't know how I managed to miscalculate the start time. But once out of bed, we might as well set off an hour early. It normally takes an hour and a bit to get to Gatwick, and it's a nice fast run round the M25 and M23 at that time in the morning. Into the car, and off we go - it seems a bit puddley, and it's obviously been raining. Also there's all these rumours about global warming, but up to now, I can't say I've noticed. But the M25 closed due to flooding - you've got to be kidding! Three and a half hours later and having detoured round half of Southern England we roll into the car park, with only 20 minutes spare. Then a mad rush to check-in, to be told that we're amongst the first to make it, and anyway, the runway is in danger of sinking under the volume of water, so all flights are delayed for at least an hour. This must be the one time I've been grateful for airport delays. Then someone else appears and tells us all local traffic round Gatwick is grid-locked, and even the airport hotels are telling their customers to walk as the shuttles are lost somewhere in the mess.

The Hotel
What with the delays in the UK, the two and a half hour flight time and the change in time zones, it's late afternoon by the time we're settled in. The Hotel les Lapins - the significance of rabbits was lost on me at the time - is a large block, about 20 years old, built on the harbour quay at Msida, opposite Valletta. The hotel is pretty good, the rooms large and comfortable, a large lounge and bar, two restaurants and everything else you might expect. If it has a fault, it's a bit big and impersonal. It's been bought by the Best Western group sometime recently, and it seemed to have trouble fitting into the American corporate mould, it's struggling to retain its Englishness. I can't complain, I've spent a lot of time in Best Westerns and they are bit 'samey' and plastic. Any non-conformity has to be a good thing.

So where to go?
Just about everywhere. Take the capital, Valletta, most of it is perched high on a large rocky outcrop, with surprisingly steep roads down to sea level. The whole place is a rabbit warren (that word again) of narrow streets and shady alleys. It reeks of age and history - and a few less savoury things as well - the Maltese seem to favour small yappy dogs as pets, and there isn't much green space in the middle of Valletta. Just watch where you're treading is all. Every turn reveals something interesting and different, little museums, big museums, ancient buildings, the Malta Experience (well worth going to), churches, cafes spilling out into the streets. There's small and neat public gardens, unexpected views, you name it. Although it's small and compact, you could spend days walking round Valletta, partly because it's interesting, and partly because you're lost.

Transport
Getting around is an experience in itself. There are three choices. Hire a car, take a taxi or ride a bus. Car hire is cheap and dangerous. Dangerous? Not the cars, the other traffic. The Maltese drive on the shady side of the road, and there don't seem to be many (if any) rules except go as fast as you can. I don't know what the damage claims rate on hire cars is, but it must be on the high side. There also seem to be a significant number of new cars with UK plates lying dead in the road with what looks like terminal shunt damage. Hmmm! Seems the English are stupid enough to drive their brand new cars across Europe, down Italy and take the car ferry to Malta. Once there, they meet a bus (see below). Nuff said really.

Look at the picture of a narrow street in Valletta. The blue car in the foreground is a Morris Minor, and if I remember rightly, the model with the divided windscreen ceased production about 1948. (The Volvo behind it isn't exactly new, either.) Malta is a great place if you want to buy a post WW II vintage English car. Ford Anglias, Triumph Heralds, Morris Minors, Minis, you name it. I even saw the version of the Singer Gazelle with twin head lights. I don't suppose there's one of those on the road in the UK now. They're all still goers, and I dare say, some of them are even road-legal. Not that I'm suggesting Maltese taxis were built in the late 40's, some are quite modern, err, say mid 60's at least. Seriously, most taxis are pretty new, a year or two old maybe and still roadworthy - or at least those that haven't met a bus yet. No, most Maltese taxis are definitely not like the crumbling Lada cab that tried to take us from Ta'Qali to Valletta.

Take a Bus
The buses. Oh joy! (And this from a person who's managed to avoid riding a London bus for 20 years!) One of the tourist leaflets bangs on about the buses, tells how many there are (a lot) and how old they are (the oldest is 1918). It looks like sometime in the 60's, an enterprising person dumped a load of Bedford truck chassis down near the shipyards, and someone with a few tons of steel plate 'left over' from repairing British naval shipping turned the trucks into buses. They're yellow, they're are built like tanks, they have the road holding properties and aerodynamics of the average house brick and they are driven by maniacs who know who is going to win if someone gets in their way. There are also some more modern coaches. These look pretty beaten up, as I guess they've had some arguments with the yellow tanks - and lost. The inside of the tanks is less reassuring than the outside. Malta is a strongly Catholic country and the driver's area is usually covered with various religious blessings and icons. This is even more worrying when you try to translate some of the Latin inscriptions - words like 'safe arrival', 'divine protection' and 'deliverance from death' feature heavily. Then the driver gets on board, and 'crosses' himself before starting the engine. All this, and the bus hasn't moved yet.

Maltese buses have an affinity for each other, they collect in large flocks at the bus station just outside Valletta. Dozens of them (maybe up to a hundred during rush hour), all going to places around the island.  Fares are cheap and there are only three 'fare zones'. Don't get ripped off by the Express buses though. These supposedly go to the more far flung ends of the island before stopping to set down and pick up passengers. Fine in theory, but as town streets are narrow, these usually get stuck behind regular buses picking up and setting down at will. Also, when the opportunity arises, all Maltese bus drivers drive like Grand Prix drivers, so no Express bus stands a chance of getting past a regular bus on the open road.

Once away from Valletta, and having arrived at their destinations, buses lurk in or near the village square. The drivers are nowhere to be seen. It's no use thinking you'll board one to get out of the sun, the driver has removed the route number, so you've no idea if it's the right bus, and if there's more than one of them, which is leaving first. So you join a gaggle of locals and fed up tourists all hanging around within sprinting distance of the buses, in sight of where the route numbers will be displayed. Then a driver appears - no-one moves - until he's poked about in his cardboard box and produced the numbers, then the little game, is it going to be a 36 or a 93 - particularly sadistic drivers will start the engine for a quick get away, before displaying the numbers. Then the mad dash to get on board. It's surprising how fast little old ladies can move, and you'd swear they breed especially sharp elbows in Maltese villages. Heaven help you if you haven't got the right change, you'll probably be trampled to death by a herd of little old ladies all dressed in black.

Churches
Almost all places you visit involve churches. It's said (another tourist leaflet, I think) that Malta has 365 churches, one for each day of the year - you can believe it! All are large, and some are spectacularly ornate. Some are so close to each other, that you wonder, "What's the point?" Two are well known and on every tourist trip. The parish church at Mosta is Cathedral size, and has one of the largest unsupported domes in the world. But it's only the parish church of a small village. The other is the Cathedral Church in the Walled City of Mdina. You won't believe that marble comes in so many colours. Notice the twin towers and two clocks. A common feature of most Maltese churches. One clock tells the correct time, the other is always wrong. Something about confusing the devil - but if I can work it out, I'm sure Old Nick can!

The Mosta parish church had a narrow escape during the war. A 250 Kg bomb came through the dome during Mass - and failed to explode. Had it done so, there wouldn't have been much left of the church or the population of Mosta. A replica of the bomb is on show round the back. It's an odd world, some churches have bits of dead saint as relics, this one has a lump of German munitions instead. Being almost circular, the church has altars spread round the periphery and seating in the centre - different. Make sure you've checked the opening times. The priests like a long siesta and the churches are usually closed between 12 and 3. There isn't a lot to do in Mosta if you turn up when it's shut.

Mdina, on the other hand is a complete self contained city, so if the Cathedral isn't open, there's a lot else to explore. Lots of narrow streets, ancient buildings, a couple of nice restaurants, another place to spend a half day getting just the feel of the place. Back to the Cathedral, this really is a Cathedral, big, spacious, peaceful and ornate. Deep red and gold being the predominant colours.

As I've said, there's churches everywhere, even the tiniest hamlet has a church that would be more suited to a city. No expense is spared, and I can't help wondering if the money wouldn't be better spent elsewhere. Anyway, for good measure here are three more.

As well as the churches, there are the religious places. Perhaps not so many as churches, but a fair smattering around the island. St. Paul's Grotto attracts a fair number of visitors, and is well looked after. A cave, and a pleasant little garden for a few moments of meditation. Why St. Paul should pick this place is hard to imagine, it's in the middle of nowhere. Well not entirely true as no-place is too far from anywhere else on the island. But it's still about as far away from anywhere as is possible to get.

Malta's religious history goes back well 'Before Christ', in the south of the island are pre-historic stone temples. No-one is quite sure who put them there, but they were there when we English got round to building Stonehenge. Malta has a companion island, Gozo, and that has the oldest stone age temples in the world - so it says two things - Malta has been inhabited for a long time, and religion has featured throughout their history.

So There's Churches and Grottos, What Else?
Enough for everyone. The St. Julian's area is for the young clubbers, it's fairly quiet during the day, but as night falls, everyone emerges and it turns into an all night party. Not my idea of a holiday, but if that's what turns you on? The old air base at Ta'Qali has been turned into a crafts centre. A great way of extracting money from tourists, and extremely boring if you aren't interested in jewellery shops, potteries and ornamental glass works. But, tucked round the back is the Ta'Qali air museum. Not big, but right up my street. They've got some nice exhibits and are busily rebuilding some real wrecks. They've also uncovered a couple of sad stories, for instance, they've rescued the Spitfire that took off one evening on a wartime patrol and wasn't seen again until they dredged it up 50 years later, 20 miles out to sea. They think the pilot got lost in the dark, ran out of gas and crashed into the drink. 

Fort St. Elmo is at the far end of Valletta. It is a fort, you know, stone walls, battlements, etc., and just to prove it, every now and then you get treated to the local equivalent of the Sealed Knot Society re-enacting some famous battle or other. Great to watch, and pretty noisy. You might get lucky, as they do seem rather enthusiastic when it comes to filling the canons with black powder. One of these days, one of these relics is going to go off rather more spectacularly than expected. Just make sure you're out of the shrapnel line. The knights of St. John are also mixed up in there somewhere. Then Napoleon and the French and Nelson and the English. It's all very complicated, so studying a potted history before you go might be a bright idea.

There's also the sea. Malta has always lived on the profits of the sea. It used to be fishing, but these days, Malta's dry dock and ship fitting facilities in the Grand Harbour add considerably to the national income. There's still a lot of small fishing boats around, and a trip to Marsaxlokk Harbour is a must for photographers. Maltese boats have eyes painted on them - to ward off evil spirits, and the whole of the harbour is full of them - boats that is. Go on a Sunday, as it has a pretty good street market used by the locals. The 'hand-made' Maltese lace on sale is mostly imported machine made tat for the tourist market. But you can find bargains if you look. If you go during the week, there's a couple of cafes and a restaurant or two, but not a lot else - well the parish church is worth a look round, but nothing that special.

Oh, and the rabbits? The local rabbits breed like - err - rabbits, and during the war there wasn't a lot else to eat on the island. So during the siege, rabbits became rather important. These days, rabbits are revered, as one of the saviours of the island, so if a hotel is built on a rabbit warren, what else do you call the hotel?

And so the week comes to an end. Goodbye to the hotel - even the bar and wine bill was a pleasant surprise - about half of what I'd guessed. The airport was quietly efficient, and the flight back to the UK uneventful. As we fly in, it's apparent that there's still some flooding about, but the south of England seems a lot less soggy than it was when we left.

Malta is definitely on my 'visit again' list. There's still plenty I haven't seen, and much I'd like to re-visit. The weather in November was just as I like it, sunny, warm and dry but definitely not hot. It's populated by nice friendly people, who speak English and the whole place is busy but not overcrowded at that time of year. However, I think I'll make my next visit about the same time of the year, I really don't fancy this end of Med in mid summer - too many tourists and too hot!

Updated 01/10/03