It was another of those days when we had a plan, but the buses didn't cooperate, so we went to Valletta as our first stop. Did a little Saturday shopping. Where but in Malta, do you have to follow the garbage truck along a main street while the guys run and pick up the bags all set out on the sidewalks. The bus driver patiently waits his opportunity to go into the oncoming lane and pass. We have our priorities.
We wandered down the main street in Valletta looking for souvenirs, another scarf for Bob and shoes for me. We found a nice scarf but no shoes. But I did find a lovely cashmere poncho and a twelve page watercolour book with the same 5 x 8 pages in case I run out of room in my journal. I've been in several art supply shops in Malta but no one carries the Moleskines.
The shops are preparing for Carnival next weekend with all the masks and costume paraphernalia.
It had been the plan to go to Birzebbugia, another fishing village along the southeast coast. The 12:30 bus doesn't come til 12:50 but I can always pass the time people watching. We travel in a very full, very loud bus with maybe two more people that I would consider not to be locals. The Saturday afternoon chatter is constant. Mix that with a 'chirping' dialogue of a group of African women, a great amount of laughter and we are caught up in a wonderful cacophony of sounds.
Birzebbuga.. ......we're not sure where we're going so we stay on the bus as it does a circular route around town. Bob has seen a meat store along the route so we are on a mission. It looks like Pretty Bay is the busier, more scenic area but we got off the bus at St George's Bay. It is beautiful and very peaceful. Farther out we can see the big freighters leaving the docks, guided by tugs or pilot boats.
It has not been one of our better days but it is somewhat reclaimed by a tasty dinner of homemade French fries and garlic sautéed prawns with a pesto/mayonnaise dipping sauce. Yumm!!!
Today is Sunday. Our wine people from St Paul's Bay are bringing us our last supply of wine this morning. They are coming to M'scala to visit Tania's mother and do us the service of making a delivery.
I sent a thank you email to them with a picture of my journal page that I had done of their shop and a reminder that I will have a toast to her on her special birthday that she will be spending in Paris. It is on April 3. Easy to remember cos its Sherry's birthday too. We will probably be on Vancouver Island. Not quite so glamorous but then we will have just spent our winters in Malta and Mexico. Can't complain can we?
We decided we didn't want to walk down to town being Sunday and not knowing what shops would be open. Our fridge is empty except for the prawns. It's a sacrifice but we will just have to eat them two nights in a row. We are having a general maintenance day. A little cleanup in the apartment, a load of laundry and a little sitting in the sun.
Later in the afternoon we are watching a man in his field across from our apartment. He is walking along chopping out cauliflowers, putting them into a plastic crate and then carrying it on his shoulder down to his truck. It is an idyllic picture. I don't think the word 'stress' would be in his vocabulary.
We wondered if he might sell us a cauliflower to have a fresh vegetable for our dinner. His truck is just inside a stone wall across the street. I walked over as he was bringing another crate to the truck. I asked if I could buy one. He told me to come with him and pick a cauliflower and a broccoli. He wouldn't take any money. His name is Martin and he lives in the tiny house at the top of the fields with his three dogs. He has a brother that helps him with various crops, one of which is 5000 strawberry plants. He will deliver these to the grocery shops early tomorrow morning. He is also a builder of stone walls. This is Maltese farming, says Martin. We have seen the odd small tractor in Malta but mostly the fields are worked with a rototiller or a hoe. He says he will get three crops in the year and then turn the field over.
Bob is on the patio watching and photographing as I collect our harvest.
Our bounty. How fresh is that? This is my kind of shopping.....
The afternoon is cooling off and by 3:30 he has finished his collecting and is gone. His timing is good as the wind picks up and we get a rain shower. I have brought in the laundry which is sun dried and fresh smelling. The sky is dark and light as the storm moves in but the sun is still shining. As we are going to bed we can see fireworks way off in the distance....maybe from the town of Zabbar. Then it is another thunder, lightning and rain storm. The contrasts in weather here are always spectacular.
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