Despite both of us having colds one after the other we have been sleeping so well. Often it's hard to sleep in strange beds but we are managing a good nine hours in the absolute quiet. In St Paul's Bay there wasn't a car on the road after 8:00 and here in Marsascala we are up so high on a dead end street that all we hear is the wind blowing around the roof tops.
Today, with nothing on our agenda, we set out walking down to the bay and there we will pick our destination. We can go along one side of the Bay or the other. We start out by looking to see if we can go inside the church.
A group of passing women tell us it doesn't open until 5:00pm. We may say we are going to live like locals but we can't hide the fact that we are not Maltese. Bob in his shorts and even me in capris and sandals, we always stand out.
We can see our apartment high above us. The building to the far right that looks like a shadow is ours. And that is our rooftop terrace on the extreme right corner.
The fish boat is in again with a nights catch displayed for buyers. Apart from the cafes that line the front of the harbour this is a working fishing village. People are out every morning for their daily shop. The two produce trucks do a non-stop business. It is a surprise to find that things like potatoes, that we figured would be local, come from France or The Netherlands. I suppose it's not much different than at home when we see where all our produce in the grocery stores comes from....California, Mexico, Chili...etc...
There is always somewhere to sit and enjoy the sun along the harbour. As I walked by, all the benches were occupied so I continued to walk out onto the wharf. When Bob caught up after taking pictures of the many Luzzus in drydock, he snagged an empty one and I walked back to join him. That's him second from the left. We walked and sat and walked and sat. The further we walked towards the end of the bay the fewer people we encountered.
Just like St Paul's Bay, Marsascala has every type of anchor buoy imaginable. The harbours are literally filled with them. It is hard to imagine what it would be like in the summer when a boat is anchored to each one.
People live along the bay...their front doors opening onto the walk with the benches right there in front. I spoke to an elderly couple that were just coming out from their home. I expressed what a lovely place it must be to live. They said yes except when the nor'easters are blowing into the bay and the water washes up to their door step. But they wouldn't change it.....I think he said something like "being closer to heaven when their time came".
We continue our walk out to where the road either ends or turns back into the village of Zonqor. Everywhere on Malta's coast are salt pans carved into the rocky shores. I don't really know if they are all still used but they are definitely a part of the history of the islands. Today I didn't bring my Sakura watercolour brushes so didn't have a water supply. I always have a variety of pens to enable me to do something in my journal. We found a path down to a group of salt pans where we could sit and watch the fishing boats returning to the harbour and the freighters passing across the horizon. There was nobody but us.
One of my first Sketchbook Skool instructors, Prashant Miranda, did his tutorial from Goa in India. He did a horizon watercolour wash and he used water from the Indian Ocean. His lesson was that whatever you use becomes a part of your story. With journal in hand and a plastic pallet I collect enough water to do a journal page.
Today has been one of the best of days. It has been everything I had imagined Malta to be. We have spent the first two months seeing everything that is famous, historical and anciently beautiful. I was a little concerned to leave all that had become familiar to us in the northern part of the island but after a few days of aclimatizing to the hills and the peace and quiet here I know this is the right place for us to be for our last few weeks.
Posted with Blogsy
No comments:
Post a Comment