January 2018 - Week 4

Monday 22nd to Sunday 28th January 2018

Monday I went to Sliema, looked around the shops and bought a couple of things. For dinner Sam had left over beef casserole (that’s finally the end of it!) and I made a baked pasta dish of cooked penne mixed with an arabiata sauce and grated cheddar topped with parmesan. I baked it in a large dish so it was very shallow and that way got mostly crispy top which is of course the best bit. It was delicious!

Tuesday we took some of our better pot plants around to Chris and Tina’s for them to adopt. It was our last visit to The Buggery before they move to Gozo on Friday. We went to Pama which was surprisingly quiet. For dinner we had roasted chicken with sweet potatoes and left over baked pasta.

Wednesday I picked up a parcel, went to Scotts, had a cappuccino at the Donut Factory and went for a walk. In the evening I went for a drink at O’Reilly’s while Sam cooked dinner – roasted vegetables with feta and olives.

Thursday I got loads of work done, did a power walk and cooked us a minced beef chilli con carne for dinner which we had with roasted and baked potatoes.

Friday the landlady called around so we could tell her about our plans. After lunch we did the touristy bit and went to Mellieha for a walk on the beach and had Magnums while we were at it. For dinner we had left over chilli con carne with rice.

Saturday morning I dropped Sam off at the ferry terminal; she is off to visit Tina at her and Chris’s new house in Gozo for a couple of days. After lunch I went for a walk in the warm sunshine, stopping off at Miracles for a cappuccino along the way. I’m reading a collection of short stories by Daphne du Maurier, starting with The Birds. She really is one of my favourite authors. For dinner I had a Buitoni pizza; it was pretty poor.

Sunday I did an amazing walk in amazing weather; blue skies, no wind, 23°C and sea like glass. It reminded me of everything we love about Malta. Sam is still away, tasting the delights of Gozo with Tina.

In the evening I went to O’Reilly’s for a couple of beers, then went to the New Madras for excellent Indian food; chicken 65 (a bit like spicy chicken tikka), and a vegetable biryani with a pishwari naan.

At the table next to me was a complete bore. I’m not homophobic but I would describe him as an old queer, you know the type. Anyway, he was ranting on about “shithole” Malta and how Turkey (where he lives) is so much better. I said to him that his life in Turkey was only possible because of the sacrifices Malta made during the war. He said that he has visited Greece, Turkey, Egypt and Portugal and by comparison to all of those Malta is a shithole. I pointed out that if it hadn’t been for the enormous sacrifices of the people of Malta he wouldn’t have had the freedom to visit Greece, Turkey, Egypt and Portugal in the first place and, indeed, he would have lived his life repressed and oppressed and would probably be dead by now. He looked a bit taken aback and I hope I gave him cause to think for a moment. Some people are completely clueless about history and their place in the scheme of things. I know there are aspects of Malta that are awful but one poor horse does not undo a great pedigree.

Now that we are planning to leave Malta I have a bucket list of things I want to do. Actually, I should say not just that I want to do but which I feel I ought to do. One of those is to visit our local casino. It’s no more than a ten minute walk away but we have never set foot inside the place. I put that to rights tonight. I went in, joined for free, and was given €10 in chips as a welcome gift. I walked in, put the lot on the roulette table’s “19 to 36”, and it came out as 32 so I won €5. I’m sure that doesn’t happen every time so I took my winnings and bought a large Drambuie at the bar opposite us, the 23 New Steps.

Here is something a bit different. As you come out of our building the first thing you notice is the view. It is amazing as you see right across the bay to St Paul’s Island. The next thing you notice are the buildings; high rises, mostly apartments, curving into the lie of the land. And, closer to home, the bar opposite us, the 23 New Steps. We sit on a rise above the road below and there are 23 steps cut into the rise, hence the name of the pub. Now, ever since we have arrived there has been an elderly English chap called George who sits every day, all day, on the wall at the top if the steps. He says hello and goodbye to anyone and everyone who passes. Eccentric but harmless. We have always been on nodding acquaintance with him but no more than that. The point is, he has been a consistent part of the backdrop of our lives since we arrived here. He disappeared about three months ago and I found out tonight while I was having my Drambuie at the 23 New Steps that he died. I confess I was slightly unsettled by the news. As I said, we didn’t really know him well but he was part of our world and his being pulled from it is unsettling.