Sea Of Dreams

What makes Malta special? As a visitor, enjoying her first glimpse of island life in the mediterranean— it’s the time-traveled streetscapes. The collections of colorful wooden balconies; some freshly painted among those charmed by sea-weather. The rocky landscape enveloped by green and blue hues; saltwater that longs to swaddle you away from the sunbaked villages. The friendly pigeons, that live as co-inhabitants of the city. The outstaring eyes of the treasured Luzzo fishing boats and the communities of men that gather on church steps and public squares to “have a word,” as a local, Joe, put it to me.

Joe is one of my favorite people I met in Malta; his warm smile and modest chuckle made him an inviting source of conversation. He showed Jason and I around the island of Gozo in a private tourist buggy and I couldn't help but find myself interested to know every last detail about him and the long life he lived on the island. Before giving tours he tiled bathrooms and before that he worked as a traffic officer. He favors pasta but well-understands that his waistline wouldn't be as impressively slender as it is for a man his age if he were to eat it every day; so he refrains. Less pasta, more cigarrettes. He alludes to the possibility that he attended a "cave party" or two in his day, following our visit to the Mixta Cave; which offers views of rich blues from the overlooking cave-dwelling. His children, who have given him six grandchildren still live on the island. Joe is well-traveled and loves to visit neighboring countries. Gozo is his forever home.

Noticing the contrast of instagram-travel culture against the backdrop of historic landmarks and native islanders shifted me into the perspective of alien observer. This Malta was a very different place from what I'd read about in Desmond Morris' The Naked Eye; recounting his vividly entertaining memories of a 7 year residency on the island between 1968 and 1974. Desmond observed a Malta that strongly adhered to a culture mirroring almost middle-age style religious obedience; a place that offered him the opportunity to "time-travel." My experience was also that of time-traveling, only in the opposite direction; which I couldn't help but find somewhat disappointing. What should I have realistically expected though? For this one set of islands to have remained untouched by today's globally-reaching ideologies and social-media culture? This is my own unique slice of our species to glimpse; the naked ape: snapshot 2024. And it's the same story for every beautiful historic place I visited during my time in Europe, not just Malta.

Many would possibly wonder why I'd favor visiting Malta at a time when both Morris' book The Naked Ape and two-piece bathing suits were prohibited; Rather than today, when St. George's Square in Valletta is vibrantly decorated with welcoming rainbow flags. I think the answer is because even though the landmarks remain, our moment of seeing them is so far beyond the expiration. It's hidden behind the t-shirts, key chains and tote bags. I've arrived at least 50 years too late. We crowd between ropes and behind plastic barriers. Everything is available to be viewed but only with a travel influencer posing for 20 minutes in the foreground. The way we behave in mere steps of ancient historic remnants can make the remnants themselves feel almost as fake.

We found our way to witnessing authentic moments between the locals and their community– a calm retreat from views of shopping and Starbucks in the core of Valletta. The Maltese, you can easily spot, even on the outskirts of the most crowded tourist areas. Riding on a scooter through a village in Gozo, we pulled over, uninvited, to watch a group of men, young and old, playing bocce ball. Only a couple of them further entertained themselves with a cigar and a glass of amber-colored liquid. They gathered and engaged around a simple game; without excesses of stimulants and distractions. It was quiet, with sounds of soft conversation that transferred around the oval they had formed surrounding the bocce ball court. Observing local people walking the narrow streets side by side and sitting together in village squares, silently or in passionate conversation, gave us our glimpse of another time. Those were the moments that felt most like we were in Malta.

Tips for travel

Rent a motorcycle or scooter for getting around / easier parking.

Visit the local butcher.

Find out what the locals do for fun.

Check your map for spots to visit that aren't in online searches / blogs.

The Last Evening

At the close of our trip, I sensed an inevitable pain. I would sorely miss the weightless sensation and daily nourishment of the mediterranean sea; where plunging beneath the rocking surface created an instant calm and a renewed hydration. Nothing was more important than taking our final dip. We returned to a secluded place I managed to find on the map in the days prior.

Our final hours in Malta were lived barefoot, climbing rocks by the sea. Slipping into warm water that gently covers your skin and brings you back to life. Watching sunlight shine through gaps in the surrounding rocky landscape. Reading pages from the book that re-lit the fire inside me and sent me off; determined to learn and explore.

Magic isn't real. But the sea is.