Wied Għomor

After an unnecessary, but unsurprising, 3am wake up for both of us, the taxi arrives bang on time at 05.45. Security is efficient, we buy supplies and very quickly, it seems, we're belted into seats 3a and 3b.

The flight leaves on time but we're delayed starting our descent into Malta due to the depression that is sitting over the island preventing us landing. We're warned of probable turbulence during the approach and landing, to the extent that the staff are handing out extra sick bags! In the event, the turbulence clears and Captaim Eammon executes a textbook landing.

It's raining. A lot. Yuck.

We whiz through this tiny airport and are in our taxi to St Julian's within minutes. We drop our bags at our apartment at midday but cannot stay long as the cleaner is due but do step quickly onto our terrace to check out the view.

Then we potter off into the grey damp with the prospect of several hours to amuse ourselves. Thank goodness the rain has eased so we wander round the harbour checking things out for a while. Eventually it starts raining more again so we dip into Bar Moak, opposite Balutta Church, for some cold local beer, Cisk (pronounced Chisk), and some lunch, mussels for me and just tomato bruschetta for John, who had only recently eaten his Gatwick all-day-breakfast sandwich. We move on to the Irish pub, The Dubliner, for another beer until, finally, we can take possession of our apartment.Okumaya devam et