There are not many options in Floriana to eat out. The nicest location is the King George Kiosk in King George Park where you can sit outside and enjoy a view of the sea. Just before closing hour I order a spaghetti bolognese at the King George Kiosk. The next day I'm back at opening hour for a coffee. "I'm your first and last customer," I tell the waitress. "You can stay here the whole day," she answers.
Time on an island is different than on the mainland. Most of the time it's slower, I would think, but in Malta it goes faster. I see people check their phone every few seconds to see if there is breaking news.
It's rare that people think the same thing but in Malta they do. At least, they're asking the same question: "Has he resigned yet?"
On Sunday night I end up standing in the middle of the protest in front of the court house. On the stage an agitated young woman is shouting to the crowd. It's in the Maltese language but I get the message. "She is only sixteen!" Margerita tells me. It seems that worldwide, young girls are angry and they are letting us know.
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| Protest money |
I'm wondering if instead of "in" Malta, I could also say "on Malta" since it's "on an island".
Before I travel to Malta, my hosts let me know that Malta is the European country which has the most blue sky. I then read on the internet that Malta is also the European country with the most holidays. I reckon both facts are related.
Nicole tells me that Malta has the densest population. I brag that Belgium has the densest railroad system. Nicole then manages to outdo me, saying that Malta has railroad tracks but no trains.
When people hear I'm from Belgium, they ask how it is to live without a government. Apparently, it's the popular perception nowadays that we don't have one.
"Do you eat a lot of fish in Malta?" I ask Nicole. I always assume that island people must eat a lot of fish since they are surrounded by water. "It's complicated," Nicole sighs, mentioning something about export.
Malta is full of tourism. Big cruise ships are lying in the harbour. "The next protest should be against tourism," my hosts agree.
The local soft drink in Malta is Kinnie. I read on Wikipedia that it was introduced in 1952 as an alternative to coca cola. Its recipe is kept secret but it is speculated to contain rhubarb and ginseng. So people in Malta drink Kinnie and it's the first country I'm in that know how to outsmart coca cola.
Even the horrible Christmas music in the main streets of Valletta doesn't manage to cancel out the loud chirping of the birds. I don't see the birds because they are hiding in the fig trees. On Grandmaster Square a sign says the birds are called "white wagtails." The white wagtails are very tolerant to human disturbance and that's how they survive in a shopping street that even disturbs the human me.
Back in Berlin, I write to A. that we should have watched The Maltese Falcon while being in Malta. "Yes," A says, "and also have eaten Maltesers."
Malta is a small island. The cab driver on my way back to the airport tells me you can drive from one side to the other in 55 minutes.
