The prehistoric temples were as stunning as anything on Malta, but having already seen a couple of sites and the National Museum of Archaeology in Valletta (which houses all the goodies, including some superb statues from 5500 years ago, including my favourite, the “Venus of Malta”) we were less stunned than we should have been. Don’t let that put you off, though, it’s an awe-inspiring site and built on a great spot overlooking the island.
Despite my blatant atheism I do love a good cathedral and this does not fail to impress. Whilst one spends many a moment wandering around, mouth open agog at the many splendors that adorn the walls and ceilings, for me the highlight were the marble tombs in the floor.
Not only do the Maltese siesta for most of the day, Malta completely shuts down on a Sunday so they can spend seventeen hours in church worshipping some bird in a blue dress. This was the perfect opportunity to drive into Valletta and wander the ancient streets, though it was made a little frustrating what with every tourist site being closed for the day!
After my watch, which actually saw us into that nasty weather, I attempted sleep in my cabin. It was a bit like riding the wall of death, but eventually I caught some Zs. Ten minutes before my next watch. Still, I got to watch the sun rise on a calmer sea and the good news was we were making excellent progress.
Having spent much of the winter aboard Rama producing The Porthole, and spending Christmas Day around the dinner table with 18 friends, it was only fitting that Liz and I were invited to help deliver Rama to Malta, along with Gordon, the chief engineer who we had befriended over the winter period. The deal was that we could come along for the ride providing we helped out with a bit of cooking and watching…