St. Peter’s Pool, our final stop in Malta, a quick peak enroute to the airport via Marsaxlokk. In the summer, the stones are barely visible beneath the bodies, the sea overflowing with bathers. But in late February, it was entirely ours. Celebrity names carved in stone, sea spray, and all.
Marsaxlokk is Malta’s fishing village. The place people will tell you to go to see the “real” Malta, the “old” Malta. The Malta of small, colorful fishing boats tied up with thick rope in the harbor, and the one with rows upon rows of market stalls and the cacophony of the fresh catch exchange. The…
Valletta was unexpected, all of it. The sun. The sky. The scenes. The set of a movie, literally several. It was a mesh of histories, of colors. Flowers set on a backdrop of sandy stone. Streets as steep as they are narrow. Walkable. Sitting on the terrace drinking wine, feeling warm in February. Unexpected and…
Soft sunrise over Sliema Bay. Valletta slowly illuminated. From darkness to light; from our balcony. The ideal place to sit and sip a green tea, to start the day.
Somewhere on the coast of north-western Malta. Somewhere wild and quiet, away from tourists and locals alike. A large cliff and larger patch of land. I don’t even know what to call it; I don’t have an exact location. It’s empty now, but several years ago, it was full of extras and crew. Equipment. Everything…
Mdina, Malta. The old city. Film set. Life set for hundreds of years. The streets are narrow and winding, doors are green, walls are thick. Another stop on our Game of Thrones tour, but deeper than GoT. It’s the road that Arya Stark ran down, chasing cats; it’s also the road that Maltese women poured…