Malta is, as you all know by now, an island. (It’s actually three islands, but we’ll get to that later.) That being said, no trip here would be complete without going on a boat ride. And what better place to be on a boat than the Blue Grotto? Therefore, Saturday morning, we could be found waiting for (yet another) bus. This time, we caught it just down the road from our apartment. Even though we flagged the bus coming toward us, it didn’t stop. Thinking maybe it was the wrong one, we waited for the next one to come around. This one stopped and, upon boarding, we realized the first bus was probably too full to pick up more passengers; this one too, was quite crowded. Hubster managed to get a seat with Little Man, Saba and Oma disappeared into the depths of people, and I stayed at the front of the bus, where there was just enough room for the folded stroller to be stashed at my feet. Oh, this would be a fun hour. (I feel like every bus ride we went on took an hour.)
I seem to have sufficiently blocked this particular ride from my memory as the next thing I recall, we were disgorging from the bus at the top of a hill. (No, wait, I do remember some pretty insane downhill switch backs. Great views, terrifying journey.) Anywho, after disembarking, we had to trek quite a ways downhill to get to the dock.
Of course, it started to rain just as we reached the bottom of the hill. The boats don’t run if the weather is bad (they actually go into the caves, and it’s not safe if the water is too rough) so we decided to ask the ticket lady if they would be running that day. She said they were, but we decided to wait out the rain as the boats aren’t covered. It was the perfect time for lunch, so we snagged seats at the restaurant situated just above the docks, where we had a nice meal. The rain cleared up right before we finished, and, full and happy, we made our way back to the boats.
Upon spotting the prices (8€ for adults, 4€ for children 3-10) Hubster pointed out that maybe kids under three weren’t allowed to go. We couldn’t very well ask, and alert the ticket booth lady to Little Man’s real age, so we decided to pay for him. (He was one month shy of turning three at the time, and is tall for his age.) Tickets in hand, we made our way to the line of boats, where we were directed to climb in to one where another family of three was already seated. Expecting to be told to put on the life vests hanging on the side of the boat, I was rather surprised when the captain took off without a word. (We were legit the only people not wearing life vests. Note the picture above.) The water was choppy, but not too bad as we set out.
It was a short ride to the first cave, and I think we were all in awe. Each cave has a name, and specific characteristics, that set it apart from the others. This one had a high ceiling and was quite long. Another had a ceiling that looked perfectly domed at the top. Some had purple and orange coral growing along the waterline, others had particularly blue water, and one had a white sand bottom. The water is so clear that you can see up to depths of 6-12 meters (~20-39 feet).
We went in and out of about five caves, the captain expertly maneuvering the little boat as the water became choppier. Hubster was on picture duty while I maintained a death grip on Little Man who, luckily, was content to sit still and enjoy the ride, until we safely returned to the dock. (He definitely had fun riding the four foot swells on the way back in!) Tipping the captain is not expected, and ours seemed rather surprised when we handed him 3€ in coins. He did such a wonderful job, I would’ve been happy giving him more, had it been easily accessible. (Saba is not a fan of all the coinage that comes along with the Euro, and was constantly trying to get rid of it. It was not uncommon, at the end of the day, for me to have 10€ in coins in my wallet.)
For the bus ride back to Valletta, we didn’t have to hike all the way back up the hill, but caught the bus closer to the restaurant. Good thing we found out about that stop, as it was pretty crowded getting on there. I actually saw a lady walk past this stop and get on at the next one. I’m pretty sure she didn’t get a seat because the bus was full. The driver intermittently told people standing in the aisle to “move back” to make room. After about three stops, he’d tell people “no more, bus is full” and two or three people would still manage to squeeze on. (I got to see all of this from my seat at the front.)
A rather terrifying 50 minutes later, we disembarked in Valletta, where we took the ferry to the Three Cities. It was a poorly planned venture and I don’t think any of us had a very good time. The ferry docks between Senglea and Birgu, and we should’ve walked more toward the tip of the Birgu peninsula instead of inland, like we did. After an hour or so of wandering fairly pointlessly, we made our way back to the ferry for an early evening in. I think we were all happy to be able to relax after a taxing day.
Sunday we took a day trip to Gozo. (Reading this now, I feel like everyday was a day trip.) Gozo is the second largest island in Malta and SO fabulous. The bus went via the airport, and I’ll give you one guess as to how long it took. That’s right: an hour! We didn’t have long to wait for the Gozo ferry, thank goodness. The lobby was crowded and the epitome of what it was like to wait for any form of transportation in Malta. We couldn’t find where to pay because, interestingly, you buy your ticket in Gozo before you board the return ferry. (Round trip is 4.65€.) The trip took 20 minutes and after disembarking, we hopped on a bus to the Ggantija Temples. Hubster and I bought a Family Sunday Ticket for a total of 18€; this included entrance to any three of 20 museums for two adults and two children aged 6-11 years. (It was cheaper than buying two adult tickets, which Saba and Oma got stuck doing as they didn’t have a child tagging along.)
The Ggantija Temples are a megalithic temple complex from the Neolithic period. Honestly, I don’t know what that means, but they’re older than the pyramids of Egypt, so I wanted to see them. There’s a really cool museum that you walk through before getting to the temples, which showcases artifacts that have been found there, and includes some hands-on things for kids. As much as Little Man can be a pain in museums, I recommend this one for families.
When we had finished exploring both rooms (perhaps that’s why I liked this museum so much; it was small but packed with information while not being overwhelming), we headed outside toward the temples. This is when Little Man tripped and landed face first on the pavement. He had a scar on his forehead for the rest of our trip (great for photos!).
Full discolsure: I am kicking myself for not getting a larger picture of the temples. I can’t believe I only got close ups! I mean, if you’re not into history, it’s a pile of rocks. But these rocks were piled in 3600 BC. Pretty impressive when you think about that. (Not that you can see it from my photos.)
This was one of the coolest things we saw on this trip. As for history, it’s definitely the oldest structure I’ve ever seen. If you visit Malta, this is pretty much a must (as is the Hypogeum, but since we couldn’t get tickets, I don’t want to talk about that).
From there, we walked to the Ta’Kola Windmill, which was also included in our ticket. This is one of the few surviving windmills on the Maltese islands that dates back to the Knights Period. It was built in 1725 but dismantled and reconstructed in the 1780’s.
The museum consists of a workshop area on the ground floor, living quarters of the miller in the middle, and the actual mill area at the top. The staircase to the mill was incredibly narrow and worn. Little Man had qualms about going all the way up, and he’s usually fearless. (Granted, he also had a hanger meltdown, so he wasn’t exactly himself.)
While supplying Little Man with every possible snack I had available, we waited for a bus to take us back to Victoria. We happened upon a cute little cafe called Coffee Break, near the bus station and decided to stop for lunch. The sidewalk seating was crowded so we opted for an indoor table. Again, luck was on our side as it started to rain not long after we sat down. We had a delightful meal and I had the best coffee I’ve had in years. Seriously. Apparently Finland has changed my taste in coffee. All the lattes I’d had on this trip so far had tasted watered down. When I saw that Coffee Break offered flavored cappuccinos, I jumped on that opportunity. (I had always thought that cappuccinos were too strong.) The amaretto cappuccino was everything I hadn’t realized I’d been missing. I ordered two.
Now that we were fed, caffeinated, and the rain had stopped, we made our way to the Cittadella. This structure was first built in the 1500’s and now houses the baroque cathedral of Gozo, along with multiple museums, including the Cathedral Museum, the Museum of Archaeology, the Folklore Museum, the Old Prison, and the WWII Shelter, among others. It’s a fascinating place to wander. Unfortunately, many of these things were closed as we were there on Sunday, but we had a great time exploring the alleyways and views.
I could’ve spent a whole day just exploring the Cittadella, there’s so much history wrapped up there. (And apparently a lace shop! Too bad that was closed too.) Even with multiple staircases, we were able to get around with the stroller, and elevators have been installed to give even more people access to this wonderful site.
We walked back to the bus station where we were some of the first to await the bus to the ferry. Not that that mattered, I still had to elbow my way in between two people to get on. The bus was jam packed when we started backing out and were stopped by another bus driver. I think he had arrived late and stopped our bus to ask the driver to let on four more people. Not just any people, four people with huge back packs and climbing gear. It was comical to see them crowd on and lay their packs on the floor. I’m glad they made it, but this bus system is something else!
The ferry ride back to Malta was a bit rougher than on the way to Gozo. I was determined, however, to get a picture of the famed St. Mary’s (or the Chateaux d’if if you’re a Count of Mont Cristo fan, as I am) which sits atop Comino, the third and smallest of the Maltese islands. I was successful, mostly because LM was happily enjoying the rocking of the boat and watching the waves.
We were lucky enough, upon waiting for the bus at the ferry terminal, to read the signs and realize, unlike most of the other people there, where the bus would actually stop. That means we got seats for the hour ride home, LM was able to fall asleep halfway there, and, amazingly, we put him straight to bed without a fuss.
The sun had set on our time in Malta, but the journey continues!
Question: Are you a history buff, or do you just see rocks?
Adventures Abroad 