Travel, 50+, Malta

You are gliding across the sky like a mighty pigeon flying Lauda, Air Malta, Ryan or something similar. You feel it is all blue all around and and then, lo and behold, something rock hard peaks from the midst of the Mediterranean. No! Two somethings. A bigger one and a smaller one. Malta and Gozo, side by side. Ready for you to land on. And then, an even smaller one. Too small for anyone to note. Forget I said anything about the third thing.

So, I landed there. Twice. Mostly on business, with a little leisure on the side. I came with a warning that some foreign investment group had purchased the public transportation, screwed it over and made the rides last for hours. Which in some other context might be more approved of, but in this one... Just take a taxi. You will thank me later.

Riding with the taxi guy, you'll see most of the island is stoned from head to toe. Some bits are stoned to ancient times, which has earned those points of interest a UNESCO label of achievement. Here and there, there are hints of green. All of this is surrounded by water that makes you more thirsty by the gulp. Thank goodness there's Kinnie and milk stouts so that you don't prune up before your time.

So, there I was with a Kinnie in my hand (to blend in with the locals), walking down the main tourist street of the capital. I went for an end to end walk because, I guess, I like feet action almost as hard as a certain movie director I'm not going to name the second time over. At one end, I experienced Maltese hospitality in the form of a lady running some kind of a tourist shop. She raged at the people in the store for having a look-see of some postcards with the help of their fingers. Apparently, you just buy a pig in the bag or vacuum a high heel in your sitter on your way out. The yells followed me and the old couple who did the failed attempt at finger work on the cards.

The next thing of note was the policemen who seemed to be wearing black wool jumpers. And yes, it gets kinda hot on the islands. More about what it does to a motherboinker a bit later. Then, I met a local celebrity, apparently. A guy who does the side profile scissor pieces out of tourists in the hope for some coin. He was just beginning the day and he told me "I'm just beginning the day... So you can have one of my beers, if you want." With a proper slur and a good buzz on, he did that serious drunken stare of the amiable kind. But, I'll give it to him. He can do some mean scissor work. I'm still holding onto the memento (side profile on black) he practiced on me...

...and on I went. To witness one of the local heroes bless a small group of tourists with a glorious stomach acid bath. The guy made a dramatic entrance by audibly opening up the second floor window and releasing a load. The early bird tourists on the street had no chance. The liquids, and a few semi-liquid chunks, landed with a good, audible splatter. A couple of French ladies got mighty uptight about being around the zone. They ran off to alert the local police. Two men in winter wear black arrived to witness the explanation of events. After hearing about it, they laughed at the French ladies' faces and walked off. Ah, Malta! Once a popular paradise for Mediterranean tourism. Fresh and welcoming like the Popeye movie set (they remade into an amusement park of sorts).

That's almost all of the touristy stuff I had time to experience. After all, I was in there for a business. The nation has a mean streak on building internet related businesses. They seem to be attracting young people far and wide for a good underpay and "benefits" (I applied to one once, only to be appalled at the insult of a salary offer made by a Swedish company because ... "you get more sun there"). Talked to a few of the more friendly locals about this and other things. They seemed particularly stoked for the opportunities to not be able to afford to move out of their homes due to foreign companies and "golden passport" folks marching in. That and the fact that the islands have a very limited space to build more upon.

The Judgment:
Malta is hot, dry and you'll get your visual cortex stoned real hard. There are some fairly impressive sights for history enthusiasts, rabbit eaters and ... well, they sure know how to eat on the islands. Tech heads might score some business. It's fine, if you're into lying down and burning your fatty bits or looking for a fairly stable relaxation. Price-wise, it's around average on European scale. It's fairly suitable for people with small kids. Just be careful about the sea and note that the beaches can be very stony. They speak good local, English and Italian and, if you have time, you can get robbed by Italian mafia (which doesn't exist, remember?). They will later use your card to purchase "product" from a company, that has been bankrupt for years, in Parma. Only to prove that your bank's maximum withdrawal settings mean jack and the other word. But it's an experience worth having once in your life.

Would I go again? No.