Malta

Sometimes when you are really ready for a holiday you perhaps subconsciously place your hopes on wanting it to be good. I think I did that prior to my recent holiday to Malta, as it turns out it wasn't a bad holiday (though not amazing either), it was a welcome respite from the cold weather, time to think and reflect and time to have a bit of fun.

Arriving at Luton airport and checking in I was worried about the weather, the clouds were heavy and full of snow and as my dad had recently had a holiday at Christmas cancelled due to the bad weather I was on tenterhooks. We queued for the check in and just happened to be behind a female Maltese volleyball team, each and everyone stunning looking, my spirits began to rise. So we boarded the plane and the heavens cascaded with snow, not good. Seat belts on we nervously waited, time dropped off the clock slowly, a lorry with some kind of jet wash hurriedly caressed the aircraft with icey cold water washing any traces of offending snow away, suddenly we were away, thrusting engines hurtling us down the runway - my heart leapt and in my mind the ride of the valkyries music thundered forth in elation.

About three hours later the lights of Malta appeared on the horizon, I squinted out of the window as the plane dropped and saw a pretty church lit up in the late evening, orange street lights surrounded it, a harbour, boats and moving traffic - touchdown.

It didn't seem overly warm as we disembarked but then again it wasn't cold either. We were through the airport in a flash and our transfer driver was waiting. Onto a mini bus and a roller coaster ride later (yep the Maltese drive like maniacs) and we were at the hotel. On booking in we were told a floor of the hotel had been flooded and we were being transferred to a 'sister hotel'. Another mad dash in a mini bus, some protestations at the new hotel reception and we were upgraded to fully inclusive, result. It was late, I explored a little and felt more than a little despondant that we didn't seem to be near anything really, and so travel tired and left wondering I went to bed.

The next day the sun was astride the sky in no time, breakfast inside me it was time to ask questions and explore. it turned out my reconnaissance the previous evening had yielded little because basically I'd been up the wrong streets. My spirits rose as I got my bearings and began to discover things and then we left for the capital Valletta.

The capital is comprised of many adjoining areas, Vallatta being on the main promontory that is flanked by various harbours and inlets. It's a very pretty place, lots of old buildings and interesting fortifications and architecture. It didn't take long to discover the bar where the late great actor Oliver Reed had died whilst filming the movie 'Gladiator'. it was a busy little back street pub with English charm and character adorned with lots of movie posters of the actor in past roles. A few pints later and I began to relax and think 'I'm here, I'm on hoilday - at long bloody last!'

So, Malta, what did I think to it? Well it's a bit of a mixed bag really. I liked the place but it has a generic Mediterranean feel about it when you're away from the touristy bits. Some places like Mdina and Mosta have real charm, history and depth, though that said many other places have a very unfinished or 'derelict' (as one Brit in the hotel said) feel about them. Some of the pavements are particularly bad and there seems to be a good few half built apartments and other buildings.

It's not a big island, so exploring is fairly easy, though the old yellow and orange buses are real bone shakers with no suspension. Some buses have been passed down from father to son and are decades old, the jewel of the family. Sadly the bus drivers themselves aren't the most friendly characters, no doubt they've seen tens of thousands of tourists and have been asked the same questions time over. The roads in Malta aren't great to be fair and there seems to be lots of one way systems. The Maltese love their cars, most families I am told have 2-3 cars, most young Maltese men like to pose around in them booming music forth, the older men do the same but play 80's music! I have to be honest and say I didn't feel the Maltese were the best drivers in the world, they are generically continental in their style with a manic speed demon edge. They seem to drive with abandon and rarely indicate leaving the whole thing a guessing game. It seemed to be every time you crossed a road there was a car bearing down upon you.

The Maltese as a people are a mixed bunch, not overly friendly but not aloof either. Much like any country there is good and bad but in fairness the Maltese I'd say aren't a bad lot. They speak good English, are polite and helpful when approached (apart from the bus drivers!). I noticed how observant they are about current affairs, especially goings on abroad, the UK in particular. My feeling was now and again the Maltese get fed up with tourists flooding their small island but they also acknowledge we're a good source of revenue. I guess like in other places the rule of one price for tourists and another price for locals applies. One thing I did pick up on was the Maltese concern with immigrants, mostly from Africa but according to the barman in my hotel there are a lot of Bulgarians and other east Europeans coming to the island now. There was a Bulgarian maid in the hotel that was very charming but there were a lot of African males walking the street on some occasions. I was told most Africans make for Italy but get stopped and sent back to Malta where the Maltese have to deal with them. There are a lot of camps of immigrants to the south of the Malta I'm told. I never felt nervous walking the streets at night though, the Africans seem to be in search of a better life and not criminals.

Maltese women are absolutely exquisite creatures, beauty personified and probably up their as some of the most gorgeous creatures I've seen on my travels. Maltese women have a certain class of their own. They wear great outfits, carry themselves with grace and pride. Dusky skin, long locks of dark hair, curves to die for, they are a mix of European, Italian and slightly Arabic looking at times, that said some looked very English too, with a resplendent aura.

It wouldn't be fair to draw too many conclusions about the Maltese as I was only there a week, for the most they seemed nice people, however I would have liked to immerse myself in their culture and language more. Some things are evident about the Maltese, they have a strong sense of family, they are fervently religious, patriotic, observant and perhaps a bit materialistic as they do like their fine clothes and cars.

It's no secret that I love my history and for this reason I was looking forward to Malta. Most of the big players in history have occupied the little island and made their mark. The Carthaginians, Romans, Arabs and various European powers have all contributed in some way or another to leave Malta how it is today. I sampled a few places of historical interest, Wignacourt tower, Fort St Elmo, Valletta, Mosta, Mdina to name some. The actual places, what you pay to get in them and what is on offer varies greatly though. The Knights Hospitalars museum/show in Mdina cost 5 euros, was said to be award winning but just turned out to be a tour with crackling headsets viewing waxworks dolls (though some were very lifelike and spooky). The re-enactment of troops training at fort St Elmo in Valletta was good, but we only stumbled on the show just before it began so missed the tour of the fort but the actual place was across a weed strewn concrete plateau that really wasn't signposted well, a case of follwing the crowd.

I got the feeling some historical places of interest just seemed to be there for the cash in value and are lacking in some areas, though to be fair I never really felt ripped off, just left feeling a little disappointed in some instances. The best thing is to read up and pick and choose, or just talk to other tourists or locals to get feedback.

Personally for me Malta was a welcome break, the weather reached 75 degrees at times and it was great to stroll around in a t-shirt feeling warm and content but not over baked. There's some lovely little bars there, some lovely views and I especially liked the area of Sliema just north of Valletta. Sliema has a very cosmopolitan feel about it, great shops, restaurants and cafes and the whole area feels quite modern, great for when you want to escape the historical touristy stuff (and with good pavements!). St Julians is also a nice little bay/area as is St Pauls which in contrast is very quiet. Bugibba, the area where I stayed is ok, a typical holiday place festooned with English style bars, clubs and more than its fair share of tacky shops. It's a clean place, plenty of places to eat and drink and is quite small and easy to traverse with good bus links, facilities and a really good cinema.

Would I return to Malta? The answer is probably yes but I'd probably go to Sliema for a long weekend with friends. It's not that cheap a place really, the locals aren't happy with the Euro still either. Malta is worth a visit (for the beautiful women alone!) but generally only attracts the retired sort for any duration, mainly because the weather is favourable and English is spoken everywhere. I would recommend Malta for a short break to anyone, especially younger people wanting a vibrant capital to explore. It wouldn't be a bad family holiday either and the oldies (mainly) love it there.

So that's Malta, and here is some photos for you to enjoy!

Mosta Dome

Wignacourt Tower

A vintage Perkins Bus

Re-enactment at Fort St Elmo, Valletta

Fort St Elmo battlements

Valletta

Mdina (the silent city)

Sliema coastline

Valletta main street

Valletta street & architecture

A street in Mdina

St Julians

Carnival parade in Valletta

St Julians

Valletta view from the Sliema ferry

View from just outside Fort St Elmo

Yours truly, ponytail flapping madly in the breeze!

Funky Chicken Little Song

They kept playing this in the cinema in Malta, now I can't get the tune out of my head. Maybe they have it in some cinema's over here but I've not seen it yet, anyway, it makes me smile, so here you go!

Traveller's Tales

Well here I am sat in a cyber cafe in Bugibba, Malta. Today I've been to Mdina, called the silent city because there's no cars there (though there is a few). It's a beautiful place, winding alley ways, lots of quiet nooks with an amazing view overlooking the island. Then it was off into Sliema for some retail therapy and food.

The hotel is ok, the staff are friendly. Initially on arriving at our hotel we were told there had been some sort of flood and had to be transferred to a sister hotel. My heart sank and I thought 'here we go!' but after arriving at the second hotel and venting our displeasure we were promptly upgraded to fully inclusive.

The resort of Bugibba is quiet but it is off season, there's some good little bars though and the local beer 'Cisk' is smooth and refreshing. I'm also enjoying 'Kinnie' which is the preferred soft drink on the island.

I think the weather has been touching between 65 and 70 today, lovely and warm, and oh those Maltese girls!!! I've found a tattoo shop nearby, looks very professional and I'm gonna check out tatts and prices in the next day or so and treat myself to one maybe.

So there you go, a little blog from the wandering hobbit in Malta, photos to follow when I get home!

Come On Lads!

Poor old Notts County Football club, it's been a real roller coaster of a season for them. Today they lost to Fulham in the FA cup but did get quite far in the tournament. I recall blogging at the start of the season, filled with glee at the arrival of Sven-Goran Erikkson, Sol, Son of Schmeical and an endless pot of money. Now that's all gone, First Sol Campbell left after one game, then the mysterious arabic backers pulled out and the club has now been sold by the Chairman Peter Trembling for £1, to Ray Trew, former chairman of Lincoln City. Sven has left but is some sort of new club figurehead/president (non-paid/active).

Still, on the up side Ray Trew is held in high regard seemingly, and knows the Football business well. County were in 4th position in the league last I looked, and could still well get promotion. Fair play to Sven too, he stuck by them for a good while when many expected him to walk, I just hope in this new role he can influence the future of the club. I just hope in these turbulent days of stability for many clubs my favourite team Notts County can hang on in there. Come on lads, you can do it!

The Story So Far ...

January has been and gone, and very cold it was too. I saw Gary off before he flew back to Hong Kong on new years eve, drove home, elected to stay in for the new year and bolted down the hatches and dug in for a bleak cold month.

The weather didn't let me down and we had snow aplenty. Fortunately the tv was good, celebrity big brother, Survivors, Dan Snow's 'Empire of the Sea', Paul Merton in Europe and the very cringe worthy 'Take me out' with Paddy McGuiness, oh and not forgetting the return of the Gadget show.

Regime wise, well things went well, no beer for about 3 whole weeks and then only a tentative tipple. Sensible eating at sensible times and more importantly sensible portions. The upshot was a bit of weight dropped off and I felt much better in myself. I've not started the writing projects I have planned but I have been blogging more, so that's good. Friend wise? Well part of the new years resolution was to forge stronger friendships this year as I feel it needs to be done in certain cases, I'm happy to say that seems to be going well too.

All in all, January has been a slow but good month marred only by the death of a friend (See: The Big Empty blog). I've a holiday booked for later this month, well just over a week away and I can't tell you how excited I am about it and how much I need it, it's been far too long. I've also been doing stuff at a new project in Nottingham and I'm really enjoying the involvement. So there you go, a little update of sorts.

Mike Flowers Pops

I'm currently really into 'The Mike Flowers Pops'. I've always liked a bit of lounge music and was aware of Mike Flowers back in the mid 90s with his cover of Wonderwall. It was only yesterday as a result of a previous conversation with a friend (Drew!) that I decided to look Mr Flowers up, and I'm glad I did. Here's his ultra cool cover of the Oasis track 'Wonderwall' below;

Whilst at the project I'm involved with in Nottingham today (It's a music shop) I found Mike Flowers to my elation on CD and promptly bagged it, as seemingly his stuff isn't easy to come by nowadays. Anyway, I played it in the shop and both customers and staff loved it! Oasis gave the nod for the cover to be released back in the 90s because they liked the arrangment so much, and music critics really rate his other covers, personally I think they're super cool, not my normal taste I'll admit but damn cool all the same - I'm a fan, enough said!

The Big Empty

It's just a little over three years since I moved to Newark. When I moved here I was lucky in the fact I made friends with a great bunch of people, or rather they made friends with me - a bit of both I suspect. Within that group of friends it's fair to say I forged some friendships quicker than others and big Russ was one of the later friendships to be honest, though we did have brief chats and exchange 'hello's' all the time.

I really began to gel with Russ about a year and a half ago. In fact I remember when we really clicked, we were sat in the Fox & Crown on a Friday afternoon early last summer and got chatting about retro video games. We both had an immense passion about old school gaming and would sit and debate the virtues of it most Friday tea times in the Fox. The more I sat and chatted with Russ, the more I realised we had lots in common, especially comedy and sport. The lads in the Fox would often call Russ 'Statto' because he knew his football so well. I wouldn't say Russ was the easiest person to get to know, such was his demeanor. Until you got to know him he could appear reserved about you but once you'd broke that barrier he seemed to have, you were totally accepted.

It wouldn't be right of me to harp on and try and pretend we were famous or best friends, we weren't but we did have an amazing total acceptance of one another, especially when it came to taking the piss or having a laugh. Many a time we'd have David and Goliath type verbal sparring, much to the glee and entertainment of some of our mutual friends. Russ would often point out to me that he'd ever been the same with Ryan (who is a little taller than me!).

Last January myself, Russ and Ryan drove over to see the comedian Jerry Sadowitz in Nottingham, I recall Jerry doing a vitriolic rant at the crowd 'I hate ginger people, I hate fat people, I hate skinny people ...'. As Russ and I were stood next to each other, Russ towering over me, we knew what was coming 'I hate small people, I hate tall people...'. We both looked at each other and smiled. I think because both of us were polar extremes height wise we understood each other so well.

It's at this point of the blog it's actually occurred to me why it often hurts when friends pass away, sometimes more than family. The answer is because friendships have to be worked at, cultivated and gradually built, and when someone dies - it all comes crashing down.

Russ died at home yesterday, after a brief battle with cancer, the second friend I've lost to it. I saw him just over a week ago at the hospital and I thought to myself 'he's a big strong lad, he'll shake it off'. Alas it wasn't to be.

I'm not sure how old Russ was, 37 for an educated guess, I can't help feeling he had so much of life to still experience. He leaves behind an amazing bunch of people that will miss him greatly.

As for me, I'll miss the texts that tell me what is happening at Notts County football club before I even know! I'll miss the chats about video games classics of yesteryear. I'll miss his towering presence over me.

It will be 'the big empty'.

A Nottingham Interlude #2

Can lightening strike twice? Let's be pragmatic and say no, though it probably has happened but as regards me in the female stakes, well... I'm just not that lucky. So why a second interlude in the big city? stay tuned and I'll divulge.

Last Wednesday I was over in Nottingham at the new project I am involved with, the train journey was uneventful, I could have driven there but I didn't really want to mess about parking in the city or bump heads with traffic en masse. Anyhow, it was a cold morning, I felt tired and was propped up by a couple of pain killers whilst listening to some Infected Mushroom on the ipod. Arriving at the new project I was received warmly by the guys there and the day passed expeditiously, new experiences, new people, fast thinking and a lot of standing up. I didn't doubt I'd enjoy the day, though the niggling physical tiredness seemed to linger in the background like some revenant shadow.

At 3pm I was heading home, though I had half an hour to spare before the departing train, so it was a steady and fatigued saunter in the direction of the station.

REWIND...

Before Christmas I'd had problems with my right eye, no point going into boring details here but at the time I decided to get it checked out at the emergency eye clinic at Queens Medical Centre. As I see a consultant there, he always advised me not to hesitate if I did have eye problems to get them looked over. Casting my mind back it was a bleak October morning when I attended, in fact I'd been before the previous year to get something checked out. Behind the desk both times was a little cutie of a nurse, my height in fact, hair pulled back neatly into a ponytail and spectacles adorning her pretty face. It might be worth mentioning that in the past I've had girlfriends the same height, only a couple as I recall, though there have been plenty of equal sized encounters in China and Thailand *ahem* but we don't need to go there right now! The fact is I've had girlfriends of all shapes and sizes, the tallest being 5'11. I don't really have a size preference but I also can't help liking girls around my height, so the nurse behind the helpdesk of course caught my attention. She was very attentive, there was some minor flirting and when I went for a coffee in the nearby hospital cafe I couldn't help thinking 'what if?'

But in scenario's like this you can't go chatting nurses up on duty, well you can but you just know they are going to remain professional, and rightly so! Anyway, she seemed to move me up the queue, I was examined by the doctor and diagnosed with some minor eye inflammation. As I headed back into the city I couldn't help thinking wistfully about her, hoping I'd bump into her again one day under better circumstances.

FAST FORWARD...

So there I am trudging back to the station, I look up and suddenly there's the cutie nurse, hurtling at break neck speed towards me (us small folk can't half move at times!). There was really no time for me to react, I guess I could have asked her some inane question about the hospital or the eye casualty but I was really too tired to give chase or try and interrupt her. I turned and watched her vanish into the assemblage of shoppers, thinking to myself she'd be 'perfect'. Ok, she's no super model or delicious dame but I don't care for 'showmance' and what people many think, I care about the person inside. I guess two hobbit's walking hand in hand would get heads turning, people would mock and snigger, let them because I care not, I love unreservedly be it a curvy amazon or a cute pixie.

So, nothing happened. I came home feeling content with the day, and another Nottingham encounter. Before, dear reader you lean back in your chair and think 'How many women does he actually like in the city?' I can answer only the two I've blogged about, though I'm pretty sure millions of singletons and people in relationships have similar such encounters or thoughts everyday - we are only human after all.

20,000 !!!

I've just noticed the webcounter on here and it's clocked 20,007. I think the blog has been going over 5 years, 6 years in September, so the journal has been getting around 4,000 hits a year on average. Not a massive amount really considering the big picture out there but I feel content knowing a few people swing by to read my ramblings and perspectives.

Thank you all for reading and commenting!

You Can't Beat The Book

E-Readers, E-Books and digital books seem to be the nouveau gadget on the shelves at the moment. My friend Gary bought one when he was over from Hong Kong at Christmas. The question that hung in my mind was; are these new digital slabs that can contain hundreds of books going to replace real books, just like digital cameras largely (but not completely) replaced film based cameras for the consumer?

Personally I don't think you can beat a good old fashioned book, the smell, the well worn covers of it being read many times and the aged brown tinged worn pages. A book has so much character and nothing looks better than a myriad of book spines on a shelf. Imagine a world where there were no books, just an E-reader sat alone on a shelf - How sterile that would be?

As I gather, much of the wood used for books, newspapers and such like comes from sustainable forestry these days or is at least moving that way.

Don't get me wrong, I love my gadgets but at the end of the day but you can only read one book at a time, or if you are studying you are only going to take the relevant books with you to college or Uni.

I have several reservations about e-readers. You could spend ages putting a book collection on one, only to drop it or have an accident with it and lose the lot, you drop a book and all you need to do is simply pick it up again - unbroken. Society is ever leaning towards recycling and being more minimal but I seriously don't think e-readers will catch on, unattractive coloured slabs that strain your eyes and when the battery runs out, you have to stop reading!

They might find a niche market but for me, I love to fawn over a book, paw gently at the pages, delight in illustrations, photos and maps. Books are special, you come into contact with them as a child and new worlds of fact and fiction open up. Then of course books become a constant throughout your life. I remember when I was about 13 or 14 reading the Lord of the Rings whilst on holiday with my family in a farm house over looking the sea near Scarborough. The farmhouse was nestled beside woodland and sat at the bottom of some rolling hills, the setting was as magical as the book and in my young imagination the environment and the book became one. I spent much of the week reading in seclusion or walking with my dad among the amazing countryside, imagining the adventures of the characters in the book.

It's funny how you treat favourite or special books with reverence, gently turning the pages and caressing the covers.

I'm not a Luddite, I love my technology but I love my books too, I'm sure much of what I have read makes me the person I am today. You can't beat the book!

Persephone

It's been a while since I have posted a bit of music on here, so sit back, crank the volume up and enjoy this track from The Cocteau Twins 'Treasure' album called 'Persephone'. I've recently discovered the Cocteau twins and seem genuinely vexed as to how I missed them the first time around!

A Nottingham Interlude

I pull on my new rocks, well worn, heavy but comfy, not the boots, but the chunky shoes - and off I go. Striding across the bridge in town, I look down at the Trent, the water level is high and a murky brown colour, which sort of compliments the pallid grey luminousness of the sky.

The train is late, as seems to be the habit in my rural little town, I breathe in the cold morning air and cough a little as it courses through my lungs. It doesn't take much to make me want to reach in my pocket and fire up my ipod, escape a little from the miserable day surrounding me. Then I'm interrupted, a middle age man literally inches from my face looks down at me smiling.

'I could do with one of them' he exclaims, grinning at me whilst pointing to the ipod.

I nod and smile, not really wanting to encourage the conversation but to no avail, he wants to chat regardless.

'They're handy things' I reply, a polite but slightly uncomfortable smile on my face, the proximity of his face to mine making me feel a little unnerved.

'I'm homeless you know, and one of those would help when I am wondering around' he enthuses.

Again I nod, and think this is ironic as I am catching a train to Nottingham to have talks about a homeless project, but that's enough about talking shop already in this blog.

He cuts in on my brief thoughts with 'Are you rich, you look rich?'

'Nope, sadly not, I wish I was.' I reply with semi genuine jest. The guy wants a friendly face, a smile, a few words, and why not? All too often we hide behind headphones these days, however my training dictates a cut off point, and I raise my headphones and keep smiling.

'I'm gonna have a sherry' he remarks, before ambling off with his bag along the platform. Not a bad idea on a cold day, I grin as the Cocteau twins phase in on the ipod.

The train trundles in and off down the Trent valley, to Nottingham I go.

Twenty minutes later I'm there. I dodge the cold and decide to walk through the Broadmarsh shopping centre, the bus station part is very brightly lit and white, like some austere giant bathroom that just happens to contain buses. It doesn't take long before I'm distracted by the opposite sex, a small but curvy brunette catches my eye, long hair, specs, geeky and cute. We exchange slight smiles as we pass - I love Nottingham I think to myself, a city that is rumoured to have twice as many females as the male populace.

It seems quiet today, neon framed shops seem empty but like any city, there's always a vibe of sorts, you just need to extend the senses and try and tap into it.

Suddenly, she's there...

REWIND...

It's at this point of the blog I need to give you a little back story, as we step two months or so into the past. There I was near the Broadmarsh centre heading to slab square in a world of my own when I spied an elfin princess, dark hair slightly tousled and flowing in the winter breeze. She walked so lightly she seemed to float, she had the looks of some Greek goddess and a carefree smile adorned her face. She was a sort of trendy hippy chick, a little avant-garde but fashionable too. My eyes follow her every movement, I drink in her beauty, she passes and I sigh. As I walk on I turn around for one last look and think to myself I'll never see her again.

FAST FORWARD...

Today as I decide to kill some time before my meeting in Waterstones books - she appears like a mirage before me. I almost stop in my tracks in disbelief as she skips in front of me into where I am headed. Of course I do the red blooded male thing - and follow.

Up the escalators she goes, her dark flowing hair trailing down her back, I'm staring so much I almost lose my footing on the escalator. Get a grip man, I reprimand myself and reality and the world around me comes to life once again as my tunnel vision is momentarily (and reluctantly) turned off.

I really can't make this too obvious I say to myself but like I am some slave on an invisible chain of lust I can't help but pursue her. She heads into Costa Coffee, I smile, it takes a nano-second to persuade myself I am going to have coffee too! Oh the shame of it all.

Coffee bought, I sit on the next table, it is the only one free, and the gods are being kind to me I think. I read a newspaper that has been left there, I try not to stare as she opens her book and begins to read. She's slim, elf like with intelligent eyes and lips that offer a thousand untold pleasures - she is beauty beyond magnitude.

It's at the point you kind of hope fate smiles on you, and she asks you to watch her stuff whilst she goes to the ladies so you can do something cheesy like replace her bookmark with your phone number and some kind of innocent message saying 'I don't really do this, you are beautiful, I'm not a pervert etc etc and here is my phone number, please text me...'

Damn, I look at my watch, I really have to be somewhere else and no opportunities are going happen, my fantasies slip away. I'm not going to fend off the shop from armed terrorists, or do CPR and revive her from choking on her coffee, alas this hobbit isn't going to be a hero today, or probably any other day for that fact. The coffee kick and reality hit me square on in the face - it's time to go.

The meeting goes well, in yet another coffee shop. I head for my train home but not before stopping by HMV and bagging a book on Tarantino in the sale.

I collapse on the train breathing hard as I almost missed it, inwardly I am smiling - happy with my brief Nottingham interlude.