kaminia to Kyllini port

Sunday 28th March
Kaminia to Kyllini Port
Oh no, the clocks have changed again so in the space of 10 days we have lost 3 hours sleep time. The plan today was to go about 25 miles as we wanted to spend the day in the wetlands and the forest of Strofylia which is a landing point for migrating birds – at this time of year they are going north. So secure in the knowledge that there was a hotel there which was definitely open we set off. The downside to this was that the hotel wanted 90 euros for a bed and no breakfast (120 with) which we thought was a tad cheeky. But with that as a fallback position we hoped to find something on the way which was a little more reasonable. However, the further we went the more we were told there are NO hotels, rooms or any sort of accommodation in that area. We never found the one we knew was open so after a relaxing morning meandering through the district we lost our nerve and headed for Kyllini which is a very long way. Luckily the route across the Ilian Plain was fairly flat, the traffic could have been a lot worse and to our amazement we made the 42 miles before the sun had even thought of setting. On the way we passed through very rural and agricultural land, tiny villages, orchards festooned with orange blossom and olive groves all being grazed by flocks of sheep, goats, tethered cows and happy hens.

The vast Plain of Ilia, at least it's flat for cycling.

Stray dogs are a bit of a problem but on the whole dogs are on very long chains which stops them one foot short of the road, although there is plenty of evidence to prove some must slip their collars! This area is covered in poly tunnels filled with strawberries and there are a great many immigrant workers. They live in the most appalling conditions not unlike the townships in Africa so you have to be a little careful where you stop and park your bike. They really look on their uppers and life must be hell. One was blown up in Athens last night as he rummaged through a rubbish bin for some food and came across a bomb left outside a government office. The bomb was yet another intended to influence the government’s decision to tax Greece’s way out of bankruptcy.
Anyway, Kyllini Port is a small harbour where the ferries leave for Xante, Zakynthos and Cephalonia. It is at the heart of those islands tourist industry but has failed so far to take advantage of the situation and is very quiet, but perhaps that is not the case in the height of the tourist season.

All there is of the commercial port of Kyllini

A few miles south in Kyllini itself the situation is very different. The price we were quoted by the Kyllini Port hotel was extortionate but for cash it was a lot more reasonable and we can now see why the poor Greek government is having such a torrid time a moment. Still – since we feel we’ve kept the economies of France, Spain, Italy & Sicily and Malta going single handedly it felt good to get one back for a change! The hotel owners could not have been kinder and as usual sent us to the best and most Greek restaurant in the village. Like the Italians they cannot believe that we only want to eat one course, and by the time the main course has arrived you are already stuffed with hot bread, olives, Greek salad, big beans in tomato sauce and many other goodies. The meat is delicious, and the pork chops are the size of elephant steaks and all the meat is very tender. (we have not seen a free range pig yet , in fact we have seen less than a dozen since we left England). Then when you think you have finished, they present you with a pannacota or fresh fruit. Yet again we roll home, and it is lucky we always have a bit of a walk.

Patras to Kaminia again

Saturday 27th March.

Back on the road from Patras heading southwest.

One more from the ferry trip back from Evia

and a view of the Islands from Evia.

We have enjoyed our evenings in Patras and the scent of orange blossom is quite intoxicating as you walk around the town. Harry of www.podilato.homestead.com had serviced our bikes beautifully and they felt like new so we set off full of enthusiasm for our ‘hoped for’ tour of the Peloponnese. We visited St Andrew’s Cathedral which is magnificent and it is refreshing to see a Greek Orthodox Church built in quite a different style to the Catholic ones we have visited over the past months. It is modeled on the Aghia Sofia in Istanbul, but being a lot more modern and clearly designed with the aid of physics, lacks some of the fascination.

Top of the cupola at St Andrew's

Interior St Andrew's

St Andrew's exterior

Greek is just that little bit trickier to master than Italian and Spanish so we are trying to learn 2 words or so each day by bringing them into our conversation. We were rather pleased with ourselves this morning for managing to buy our pastries for lunch and enquiring as to the whereabouts of the local post office. We can’t understand the replies but it is a start! In the more rural areas not many people speak any English so it is good for us. They all think we are German anyway so Alec attempts that much of the time.
We have picked a lot of brains about what is and is not going to be possible for us. Fortunately the first day was just a repeat of last weekend so we went back to our favourite hotel in Kaminia and had a bit of a relaxed time, to recover from the past week. We both swam as the sea was the proper azure colour that you expect from the Mediterranean and not at all cold. Our review of the hotel had just been published, but luckily we had been very complimentary except about the lack of a bath plug. This time we had a plug in the smallest basin you had ever seen with no overflow. We think the designer was more into the aesthetics than the practicalities.

Monday 22nd – Friday 26th March
Patras – Athens – Evia - Patras
After breakfast we set off with the bikes to Harry’s shop where they are to be serviced and prepared for the long trek home, and hopefully the English summer. After that Vivi went off for some very necessary help from the beauticians having not been seen by friends for a while, and I stood in line at the post office to send home David’s book, The Bastard of Istanbul (worth a read so we’ve kept it) and the Lonely Planet Guide to Sicily – all extremely heavy. I don’t know what they do in Greek post offices but buying stamps is a lengthy process. Finally we met up again and headed off to the station carrying our bags. At the station we discovered that we had missed one train and the next wasn’t for 3 hours. We were also informed that we needn’t bother trying to come home tomorrow because they would be on strike. ‘That’s O.K we are going to Evia’, we said. So we went to the bus station where they do not appear to strike and were told we could catch the 1.30pm. Vivi said isn’t there anything a bit sooner, and the ticket lady said – it goes in ten minutes. It was only then that we realized that for the last 4 days we had been on Italian time which is an hour behind Greece and 2 behind the UK (until next Sunday) when we all change again. It would explain why the boat arrived an hour early last week and I wondered why the girls in’ Be Beautiful’ salon were not very happy to start with!
The bus journey was dead easy – everyone slept, woke up, slept in intervals depending on how long it was before the next mobile phone rang. One particularly annoying one went “Taxi, I say taxi” over and over until the person the other end either rang off or the owner answered it.
Dick had booked us in to an hotel immediately below the Acropolis and it was extremely comfy with a good view of the Parthenon from our balcony.
We had an amazing dinner close to the Acropolis (Dick being fluent in Greek and an excellent host helps) followed by a meander up towards the floodlit Acropolis and a nightcap and bed by 2am.




Just to prove that we were there


Not feeling so happy in the morning – for obvious reasons and made worse by Vivi discovering she’d lost her mobile, but no time to dwell on this as we had to be at the airport by noon to meet our old neighbours Roger and Barbara where we are staying for the next three nights.
Picked up from the airport right on time despite another strike (by the tube workers this time), we headed off to Evia where R & B have recently bought a house and are soon to start gutting it and putting it back together again. We took a ferry which takes about 30 minutes and then we were on the island.




Alec and Vivi on the ferry to Evia

Alec and Roger on the ferry to Evia

Evia is about 100 miles long and in places only a couple of miles wide. They have bought a house at about the narrowest point and from there can almost see the sea on both sides. Once on the island we stopped at a beach-side tavern and had an excellent plate of little fishes, before going on to the place we were staying. Just as we were leaving a man appeared with his ‘catch of the day’ which beats anything we’ve pulled out of the Oykel.

Man with our lunch!

The next 2 days were spent exploring some of the southern half of the island which is very attractive, deep valleys surrounded by mountains with a fair smattering of wind farms on top which were making the most of the coastal breezes. We had fun meeting quite a few of the locals

Don't ask us how he got in there!

and even did a small amount of gardening as they have a large terraced area to reclaim, full of wild flowers, birds, goats and olive trees.

A little help from the neighbours with pruning the olives!

Roger and Barbara by their 'new' front door.

The beaches are beautiful and Alec swam but there was quite a cold wind so the rest of us watched in admiration as it was far easier to lie in the sun. The great thing about Greece is that every beach seems to have a good number of tavernas where they serve really fresh fish and other local dishes at very good prices. We were very spoilt and ate out quite a few times. As always we talked far too much as it was lovely to catch up and see where they will be living. Our 3 days passed very fast and before we knew it we were taking the bus back to Patras.

Back to Patras

Sunday 21st March.
Back to Patras
Today we needed to get back to Patras as the bikes have to be left at Harry’s for a ‘service’ and we have to catch a train to Athens and all in the morning. On the way back into Patras we stopped under some trees for lunch and were promptly joined by 20 or so students who like to cycle out of the town on Sundays to play games and picnic.


A group of very jolly students who all needless to say spoke faultless English and were very pleasant to be with.

This runner passed us one way going so fast I thought I must take a picture when he comes back. I nearly caught up with him!!



They were amazed that people of our age had made it so far and told us of their plans to cycle across Spain in the summer. We weren’t too encouraging about this but accept that being that much younger and fitter they might be able to do it. Patras was very quiet apart from all the bars which were heaving, apparently the two top Greek teams were playing football which had brought the streets to a state of emptiness. The right side must have one because after it was over everyone went home quietly and in good humour.

Huge moth we found on the side of the road and below a man who appeared whilst we had lunch and washed his socks in the sea!!

On the way back to the hotel we passed some American boys falling out of a bar shocked and gasping ‘they wur prastitoots, they wur prastitoots’ and it was then we realized the bar was right next to our hotel, no wonder it was so cheap, we were the only people in years spending an entire night in it!!

Kaminia, Achaia.

Saturday and Sunday 20/21 March
Kaminia, Achaia.
We are feeling very spoilt in this little hotel as the views of the bay are fantastic,





Poseidon Hotel, a real breath of fresh air.




and it is in a very quiet corner of the village. The first sounds we heard were the early morning alarm call of a cockerel or two and an amazing dawn chorus of birds. Our room overlooks an olive and orange grove which is full of all sorts of black caps and warblers.
We are missing our Italian Cornetti/Croissants but the Greek Yoghurt more than makes up for it at breakfast.
First we had to catch up on a serious amount of washing (no easy feat this with no plugs in the basin) so we became fairly inventive with things we could stuff into the sink. I favoured a champagne cork as then we could have bought a bottle but Alec didn’t think it would fit in the plughole correctly, (weak excuse) so in the end we managed with a lid, some loo paper wrapped around that, then a bit of plastic bag wrapped around the outside of that. At hotel reception they thought we were very peculiar wanting one, but it is high on the list of Greek words to learn/remember and off we went in search of a hardware shop. We followed the coast road for a few miles to see what it is like. Fortunately the major road runs alongside at this point so there is only local traffic on the smaller one. Everyone has warned us to be careful of the drivers as they are not used to bikes. One of the guys at the bike shop gaily told us he has had nine operations so far after falling off his bike! However, the drivers are not much different from those in the U.K. only giving you a few inches so you just have to concentrate rather hard as to what may be coming up behind/beside you.
The town of Achaia is a hub of activity and full of lovely old-fashioned shops so we spent a happy hour exploring finally finding a hardware store. After much scratching of heads and a particularly good drawing of a bath plug by Alec, we emerged victorious with 2 of different sizes. I remember my mother and I having the same problem whilst here a few years ago. Now we just have to remember to take them with us each time we change hotels.
We headed down to the little village/harbour of Kato Achaia which was very pretty and we had a most peaceful picnic sitting on a rock admiring the boats. The swallows have arrived here and were swooping around and sitting on the boat riggings.



We sat right here for our picnic lunch.

Coffee after lunch!

In Achaia we had also bought a half bottle of wine; the Cab Sauvignon being ‘foreign’ was extortionately expensive so we bought a bottle of the local red. So here we are in perfect surroundings unpacking our picnic, take the cork out with mouths watering and oh....it’s a sort of sweet Marsala pretty much like communion wine and served us jolly well right for not wearing our glasses when we made the selection. However on Sunday the second half slipped down most appropriately!!
After a while we became restless so went and had a coffee where Vivi was forced to share what she had saved for tea with a ‘starving’ mongrel

And then I felt it was time summer was officially recognized (of course I know it won’t be) and slipped nimbly into my bathers and had a swim.

Villa San Giovanni - Brindisi - Patras, Greece.

Thursday 18th March
Villa San Giovanni - Brindisi – Patras,Greece



A seaplane at Valletta Harbour, if only we had chartered this we could have been in Patras in a couple of hours!


Four changes of train today, so some anxiety as to whether they will all agree to carry bikes!
We headed off north on the train, up the west coast revisiting all of the places we had cycled down on our tour south. At Paola we turned inland to go over the ‘instep’ of Italy if you can call it that. This was new territory to us and rather lovely. There is still a certain amount of snow on the tops of the mountains and spring is a bit later in arriving in these parts. The broad beans, peas and salad crops looked a bit waterlogged but the acres of peach and other fruit orchards were in full blossom, so beautiful. Quite amazingly the 1 sheet of paper given by the travel agent with all our changes on it has worked a treat. There was no mention of bikes anywhere so we were very nervous, but the ticket collectors on each train, scratched their heads, looked puzzled and waved us on! It was a relief as we only had 10 minutes between some changes. At 3.30 we arrived in Brindisi, ironically having passed through the only totally flat landscape we have passed since leaving the UK- perfect for biking, but that will have to be another time.
Having expected to have the boat to ourselves with just a few truck drivers we were dismayed to find a party of about 150 American 15 - 20 year old students with their minders. We never did discover what they were doing either in Italy or Greece but guess it was something cultural. One has to say one thing for them they didn’t go near the bar, no one was drunk, loud or difficult the whole lot just stayed up in the top deck smoking ciggies.
The boat stopped at three AM to unload some lorries in Igoumenitsa which didn’t disturb anyone except Vivi, who having a Titanic moment thought the boat must have run aground, but all was well and the next thing we knew we were in Patras 2 hours early.



Little tug which shunted us around Patras Harbour



The Tourist Office was right outside the harbour gates and for the first time since leaving France it was a) open b) had staff who appeared willing and eager to help and c) it had free internet access whoopee, welcome to Greece. And the first thing you notice is that everyone moves about at a sensible pace and conversations are held a normal decibel levels and not conducted in a state of near hysteria!!
Scarily the hotels here are about half as much again as those in Italy but we are hoping this is only because we are so close to a major port. We booked ourselves into The Poseidon Hotel which is about 20k’s west of Patras and couldn’t believe how comfortable it is, so much so we are going to stay for two nights.
Before cycling out to the Poseidon we called in at the bike shop, where they are the agents for our ‘Specialized’ make of bike. There were four men hanging around outside and when we cycled up to them you would have thought we were the Prodigal sons (or fatted calves as we say at home!) They couldn’t believe how much luggage we were carrying – but then I suppose none of them have ever been away for 6 months either. Anyway Harry of 'Harry Malios Bikes' has agreed to service our bikes – something which is long overdue whilst we are away next week in Athens and on Evia. We needed to buy a decent map and one of the men took us at a fairly ‘smart’ pace to a shop with everything we needed.
Next stop was the pastry shop for some lunch. We were rather overwhelmed by the amount of choice but chose some delicious filo pies filled with cheese and other things. The perfect spot was found after a few miles, on a small beach overlooking the very azure sea with a lovely view of the bridge joining this end of the Peloponnese to the mainland.

Lunch spot
and BIG bridge
outside
Patras


When I was here a few years ago this was the longest bridge in the world, not sure if this is still the case, and it is a tremendous feat of engineering. We then had to burn off a great many calories before arriving for the night in Kaminia. The coast road was very peaceful, lots of bird song which is very refreshing. During the past few weeks we have seen very few birds except magpies in Italy, Sicily and Malta. Magpies, sparrows and feral pigeons seem to be the only birds not deemed to be edible or worth keeping in a cage.
If all our days on Greece are as good as today there will be no complaints!



Sunset 1st evening from Poseidon hotel.

Malta, Sicily and Italy.

Wednesday 17 March.
Malta – Sicily – Italy- all in one day and very long it was too.

A day to remember it is now 6am in Malta and by 9.30pm we were on mainland Italy - exhausting!

For the first time in several months we are committed to being somewhere on a certain date, and that somewhere is Athens in 5 days time. This focuses the mind somewhat and we had spent many hours studying the Sicilian train timetable, a very complex read, but invaluable to us in the last few weeks. However, realizing that just to get from Pozzallo to Messina was going to require 3 changes we went to a travel agent in our favourite city of Syracuse and there an incredible lady with the patience of Job booked us trains and ferries across to mainland Italy, up the east coast to Brindisi and across to Patras. What really complicated the issue was that the only ferries with cabins available were tomorrow (a real sprint) and next Tuesday (too late to meet Dick). Mind you just getting to Syracuse wasn’t without incident. Pozzallo is one of those stations without ticket office or ticket machine and had it not been for a party of Australians with their Sicilian guide who had also just arrived from Malta there would have been ‘no way’ we would have been allowed onto that train. Two stops up the line we were all thrown off the train and told to buy tickets at a station bar after which we were no longer regarded as ‘illegal immigrants’.
As we had 3 hours to kill in Syracuse we had some lunch in the sunshine and were extremely impressed by a party of German cyclists - fit and as lean as whippets who tucked into salad and water and were back onto their racing bikes and away in no time. From our perspective this didn’t look much like a holiday but as we grow older we are finally realizing that different people do things for different reasons!!

Just one of the party of very fit German cyclists!

The only bad thing to happen was when rather late on in the day we realized our helpful Travel Agent had booked us into a hotel opposite the station in Scilla (10 miles out of San Giovanni) and not right outside the station in San Giovanni which is where the ferry from Sicily docks. But a call to http://www.bookings.com/ (bless them they put an emergency phone number on the booking confirmation) amazingly sorted the problem out. (We hope, otherwise it is 2 hotel bills for one night which would be a bore)

With a couple of hours to wait for our final train to Messina, we cycled south to Giardini Naxos just because could! It was whilst here we realized the mistake with the hotel booking.

Not so cheerful and still waiting for the train to Messini!

And just to re-affirm the generous and helpful nature of Italians, arriving at the hotel at 9.30pm the chap on reception called his mate who owned a restaurant and said mate came to the hotel, collected us, fed us and brought us back. And they had Barcelona v Stuttgart on the 5ft wide TV too!!

Still on Gozo

Tuesday 16th March
Still on Gozo

By 6am the next day the sun was up and for the first time we saw Xlendi Bay which is spectacularly beautiful. The sea even looked as though it was the right colour for a swim, but we didn’t have time or (thank goodness) our trunks as I suspect it is very cold!
The one thing we have noticed about both Malta and Gozo is how devout they are. Almost every house is named after an Apostle or a Saint and we even saw one simply called Thank God – but I suspect he may be the only surviving member of Lloyd’s!

The view of Xlendi Bay from our balcony.

Many people only visit Gozo for half a day from Malta and the 2 things that are the ‘must see-s’ are the Inland Sea and the Ggantija Temples which look similar to Stonehenge and pre-date the Pyramids by a thousand years.
We sauntered out to climb into our very cool car to explore the island. However it had decided not to start, having been no trouble at all one day earlier. Alec and a couple of inquisitive locals became very fit pushing it around the square, down to the beach and back again. Eventually remembering that the day before David had primed the fuel filter - a quick suck on the petrol line and the little beauty fired in to life. We were very relieved and set off to The Inland Sea. This looks like a lake but there is in fact a channel from the sea which fills it with salt water and the fishermen with small boats can shelter there from storms. The rocks in this area are full of fossils, and old animal bones and shells sticking out everywhere.

The entrance to The Inland Sea!

One of the thousands of fossils near the Fungus Rock.

Unfortunately the old adage of sun before seven, rain by eleven kicked in and very soon the hood had to come out, we were soaked and although we had arrived at the temples we did not get out to look at them. We beat a retreat to catch the ferry back to Malta and were sad not to have had the time to explore further. It is a very pretty island and looked as though it would be lovely to spend a few days walking there. At the ferry terminal the car then decided to tease us again. Come the moment to embark the starter motor decided to jam, but such is the kindness of the Maltese not a horn was blown nor a voice raised and an army of volunteers descended to push us onto the boat! The same thing happened at the other end, only this time there seemed to be even more volunteers, despite this problem, I could have sold the car several times! It is quite refreshing to be in a place where they mostly speak English and the car was a great talking point.
It had been a real treat to be able to see places we would not have seen with our bikes. The north of Malta is very rural with lovely hills and is still quite wooded although the Knights had chopped down many of the trees to make their ships. We stopped briefly above St Paul's Bay to see where he was shipwrecked, and then back to David and Felixa having had a great day’s adventure.

St Paul in AD60 was shipwrecked on these rocks. Now there's a thing.

David then drove us and the bikes into Valletta and gave us a guided tour of his beautiful Pallazzo where he was brought up and where shortly in the future he hopes to house some of his collection of vintage motorcycles and cars.

Part of the collection of old, cool, machines all used by the owner!

We spent the night at the very comfortable Osborne Hotel in preparation for a 5am start to catch the ferry back to Sicily. In nine days we only scratched the surface of Malta but the memories we are coming away with will remain with us for a long time.


The Azure window down at the Inland Sea.

Zebbug

Saturday 13th – Monday 15th March.
Zebbug
At last we were able to repay some of the kindness we have been shown by doing a bit of housework – well, if you can call it that. Vivi went shopping with Tess and I fiddled about and the house looks very different now!

View of the courtyard from Tess' roof.

It was most exciting being able to shop for the first time in a few months, and I was agog with so much choice, but managed to only buy a new t shirt, as I know there is not a millimetre of room in my panniers. I now have to decide what to throw away to fit it in.
On the way home, Tess and I were feeling pretty cool - the sun was shining and the roof was down on the Mini Clubman. It had rained earlier, and whilst we were chattering a car overtook us and hit one of the many potholes. A tidal wave came straight in over the windscreen and we were completely drenched. We were so taken aback we were temporarily silenced! How Tess kept on the road I have no idea. Our hair, clothes and most of the purchases were covered in a good mix of diesel and muddy water.
Later in the afternoon we took the neglected bikes out for a further exploration of the island and another attempt at the highest point. (I have to say at this point that Alec thinks of his bike as being a bit like a dog that needs to be exercised each day; I am not of the same opinion, and think it would like the odd day off!) Country Malta is only ten minutes away from city Malta but the tranquility of the former with it’s stone walls, wild flowers, tiny fields of wheat and wild birds and butterflies is heaven.

Needless to say we took the wrong road which led us to Verdala Palace, perched on top of one hill well hidden by a high wall and from where we had a perfect view of the highest point which was one valley over!
We had another very happy evening with lots of laughs.
On Sunday the bikes were allowed a day off as Tess cooked the most superb lunch and as all good Sunday lunches go, it continued until 7.00 pm. We met the nicest people and have discovered that the Maltese are fantastically hospitable and it has been a joy to learn so much about the island. As a result of Sunday lunch we were invited to visit the North of the island by David and Felixa so packed our bags and finally left Tess to a bit of peace and quiet on Monday morning.

We headed over the ridge past Naxxar and dropped down the steepest escarpment which was a fairly scary descent from about 400 feet above sea level and the brakes screeched all the way down upsetting the local dogs. There were fabulous views from the top, looking over the North of the Island and you have a very good view of the Victoria Lines. This is a wall running right across the breadth of Malta separating north from south to act as a mid way line of defence to protect the islanders from invasion through the centuries - against the Saracens and more recent enemies.

Victoria Lines from the escarpment

We arrived in time for the most delicious lunch eaten alfresco in the garden of their lovely home – we were given some of the delicious Maltese goat’s cheese amongst a host of amazing flavours including some halva which is a bit like nougat only better. We had no firm plans but were torn between catching the ferry back to Sicily or should we visit the Island of Gozo since we are so near. Before we knew it, we had been persuaded to leave the bikes and leap into a Barchetta 595


AA and the Barchetta!

to catch the ferry to Gozo! It is a beautiful little car and to a non car-enthusiast girl, looks very much like the one Noddy and Big Ears went about in, except it was green, not yellow! David has a sensational collection of cars all in a state of utter perfection or being groomed to be so in the near future. He did the Peking to Paris Rally the same year as Murray and my cousin Geoff Dorey. Since then he has also done the Cairo to Capetown (several times) and it has to be said that what he doesn’t know about cars isn’t worth knowing!
So, vroom vroom a couple of tweaks by David and Felixa’s brother Garth, the car was running, we were booked into the St Patrick’s hotel Xlendi and we were on our way to Gozo! The sun was shining and we were rattling along at what felt like ‘breakneck’ speed with the wind in her hair and all was good with the world. When I had the car in fourth and we were doing 31mph (I suppose it was MPH and not K’s) Vivi suggested that we might be going a little too fast but once I’d got the hang of going around and not through the Maltese potholes, some of which must have been put there by an excavator, the journey settled into a blissful adventure. We missed the 6pm ferry to Gozo, but were on the 7pm which meant there was plenty of time to attract admiring glances and comments from the other car drivers – funny how a man can step out of a Mercedes Benz to tell you your 600cc home made Barchetta is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, makes you wonder what his wife is like!
Felixa had told us of a couple of restaurants in Xlendi which we ought to try, unfortunately one was closed and the other wouldn’t let us in because it was quiz night. So we saved ourselves a fortune and ate Gozo Rabbit in the hotel which is a ‘speciality’ and it really was extremely good.

Valletta to Zebbug and thereabouts

Valletta
Wednesday 10th March.

After breakfast (cappuccino was extra!) we set off on foot to explore the parts of Valletta we hadn’t managed to visit last night. Valletta is a huge sprawling city so to see it all would take weeks but in the heart there is enough to keep one going.
We went to St John the Baptist's Cathedral first. This was ‘decorated’ by the Knights of St John. They were established to ‘protect’ pilgrims on their way to the holy land but centre'd themselves in Malta. The knights from each country took the responsibility for decorating individual chapels, the most senior countries placed nearest the ‘high altar’ and stretching right to the back. Their aim was to fill the whole cathedral with exquisite art, and they have made a pretty good job of it. The floor is covered with inlaid marble tombs of the many knights who were killed. It was quite different from many of the very baroque churches we have visited recently, and it is worth coming to Malta just to see it. The barrel vaulted ceiling has exquisite paintings of the story for John the Baptist, painted by Mattia Pretti, and you could easily spend half a day sitting and taking it all in.
The oratory beside it has a most interesting exhibition of works of art including ‘the beheading of John the Baptist’ by Caravaggio which is beautiful if rather unsettling to look at. There is also a wonderful collection of Flemish tapestries designed by Rubens and Poussin. By the end of it we had decided we don’t want to look at any more churches as not many could come close to this one.

Typical Valletta street

Knights tomb (left) and below the relic which once held the right forearm of John the Baptist. It was removed when Napoleon came to Malta and is now in Sarajevo

Expensive art donated by the knights

High altar St John's.
It was quite sunny but windy so we found a sheltered spot in the main square to relax before embarking on the War Museum. It is most odd sitting surrounded by shops you see everywhere in the U.K. I paid a quick visit to M and S to replace some of my clothes but the mark-up here is enormous, so I shall carry on in that same old jersey I bought before leaving home last year.
The War Museum was also fascinating and we spent the afternoon learning all about the important role Malta played in both World Wars. Again, almost too much to take in all at once. They are a very brave nation.
We had decided to move on so pedaled around the edge of the harbour towards Sliema and St Julian’s bay. I was actually terrified several times on the ride as they don’t give you any room and we were almost ridden off the road several times. A learner driver’s instructor had to pull on the emergency brakes as his pupil had clearly never been confronted with a cyclist before and obviously saw no reason to alter course. Luckily after the first couple of miles we were able to ride on the promenade dodging through the pedestrians but that was infinitely preferable to the road.

The bay or several going west from Valleta main port to St Julian's bay.

We had upgraded to a slightly smarter hotel in the hope of a comfy mattress but in reality it was little different. It was just like staying in a seafront hotel in Bournemouth, full of British middle aged people who come here for several weeks at a time to escape the winter. It wasn’t cabaret night but there was a pianist playing rather well in the bar. In fact it is only the second time in 6 months we have heard any live music. I am still on a mission to find some opera, and hope it will be easier once the summer season starts.

Thursday 11th March (it’s 6 months today)
Valletta to Zebbug
We have been offered a bed for the night in the middle of the island which is only 9 miles from north to south and about 16 from east to west, but map reading is extremely complicated! On the map there are red roads, yellow and white but on the ground there seems to be a lot more plus the reds and the whites seem to carry the same amount of traffic – it’s all very confusing! We set off from Valletta toward Naxxar and then Mosta which is quite a climb but from the top the views at spectacular. There are towns in all directions perched on top of the hills. We stopped for a picnic lunch in Naaxar in front of an enormous spread of flowering Stocks which smelt lovely, and a Working Mens Club – men and club about summed it up. There were birds singing everywhere and it took us a while to realise they are all in tiny cages hanging on the walls outside of the houses. A bit like Spain. They appear to favour Greenfinches here who sing beautifully but we’d rather they were flying about, mind you if they were they’d be shot so it’s a rock and a hard place really.

Where we had our 6 months to the day lunch. The picture of us was so awful this will have to do!

After Mosta it was pretty flat and rural, there were Sardinian Warblers to look at and we saw a Swallowtail Butterfly which is a first on this trip so we were very chuffed with that.
Eventually we found our way to Zebbug and to Tess’s house where suddenly everything became terribly comfortable and it was like being back at home!
To our amazement we arrived on the day that Jesus was being walked through the streets of Zebbug. (These sort of events usually happen 24 hours after or 2 days before we are there) Tess' husband has been asked if he would like to be one of the carriers, but as he's 6' 4'' and the others aren't much over 5' 8'' it's as well he never has!

Friday 12th March
Zebbug – Rabat, Mdina – Zebbug.
After breakfast we set off on the bikes to find the highest point on the island which is (we think) Rabat. But first we had to visit Mdina the former capital of Malta and known as the silent city. Mdina is an ancient walled city with a grand entrance and cathedral; the latter we didn’t visit as it couldn’t come close St John’s in Valletta. Instead we contented ourselves with walking through the narrow streets and looking at the view from the battlements. There are no cars in Mdina which makes walking around it very pleasant. What we were really looking for was somewhere for lunch in the sun. All the restaurants seemed to be in basements from where we would have emerge blinking like moles and wishing we’d had a bit more sun. So we went across to Rabat (home to the mysterious Catacombs) and found a bar on the square. Now this shows just how charming the Maltese are, the bar didn’t have the particular Maltese pastizzi (cheese or chickpea wrapped in filo pastry) which we wanted to try, so the bar owner gave us a drink and went to the shop which sells them and brought them to us. So kind and unexpected!

View toward Valletta from Rabat

Gates to Rabat

Across the square was the church of St Paul – he who was shipwrecked here in 60AD. Beneath the church is a grotto with a statue of said saint which has been there for a very long time. He used to preach there and it had a very ancient feel to it. Various Popes have visited and kissed the statues hand and the current one is due here to do the same thing in early April this year. You can imagine the excitement at that!
St Paul's Church with the Catacomb he preached in and where the pope will visit next month.

Further up the road are ‘the Catacombs’ - which are astonishing. When entering you can have no idea how far underground they extend and with not many people there it is quite scary because tunnels disappear in all directions and very soon you have absolutely no idea where you are or which way will get you back. Vivi and I leapfrogged each other so that one of us always could remember which direction we had come from.

The Catacombs - acres of them

Since Tess had offered to have us for a second night it seemed rude to refuse so we didn’t and cycled back to what we now call home and for another exceedingly comfortable evening!