Wednesday, the 15 July, I turned 56. The past seven birthdays I have been in Europe. Gail asks me what I “want” for my birthday, and I never have an answer.
What more do I need?
BUT:
After all this saintly celebration this week, I have an idea:
I have decided to become a saint.
Saint Ed.
Capital letters, thank you.
I will declare it and thus it shall be.
I know of an empty church back home that can be bought and remodeled into Chiesa San Éd.
And, just FYI, statues are not beneath me.
And as for the festival… It will be one week, every July, drinking and barbecue.
I will volunteer to be the patron saint of wine, thereby freeing up St. Vincent and St. Urban to do other patronly duties. AND as a bonus, I will voluntarily be the Spiritual Adviser to Spirits, namely Scotch Whisky.
I just need some followers and donations. So how about this: I will sell relics!*
I figure $100 will get you a finger nail clipping, $1000 a bone chip or hair, $10,000 a tooth. Of course, if you just want to sponsor the whole thing, you get the whole body, chopped up or mummified whole, your choice.
*Relics available around the year 2065.
It would help if they had actual bus schedules and routes published, on paper, that you could carry around. We have to go to the bus station itself, figure out where we want to go, and then transfer to, then return from, find those routes on a big map painted on the side of the building, write down the bus numbers, then read the list to see which bay they leave from. A printed, pocket version would be really handy. I can’t complain about the price, however. €2 for one trip, or you can buy an unlimited, seven day pass for €21.
Finally, I found the Valletta bus schedule web site, and used that from my phone.
Here it is.
I have been so hot and sweaty for so many days now that our little Malta map is all but useless, a wet lump of paper in my pocket that tears apart.
At night, I put my clothes out on the deck to dry before I pack them into the laundry bag. They are still damp the next day.
Franck advised us to drink bottled water, which I thought was funny advice for such a clean and well run, obviously well off country. Then I learned that over 50% of the water here in Malta comes from one of three giant desalinization plants.
Officially, the water is fine, just maybe not to some peoples' taste.
Unofficially, well, read here.
Our last two nights' meals were pretty good.
After the beach day, we came back, and ate dinner at Ambrosia.
They have a simple, one page menu, with excellent food .
She had Confit of Pork Belly with honey ginger sauce, while I chose the Stuffed Quail with walnut cream sauce. They really do their reductions and sauces well. We had a bottle of red French wine from the Côtes du Rhône.
Our last night we had a simple but good pizza at the place next door.
We ate a lot of gelato in Malta, more than anywhere else.
We could return to Malta, perhaps stay here again or up near St. Julians. Then we'd move north to the island of Gozo for a few days. And maybe we would come in March or April, or September or October, when it is merely hot, not steaming.
Southern Italy and Malta have been fun and all, Gail has been happy to get in the beach time, but I am looking forward to moving north to the mountains. I would be happy to totally skip the beach, spend the summer in the Alps hiking hut to hut.
And so that is where we are heading for two weeks now: Into Austria.
But first, a quick return to Venice.