Our last day in Malta

Our last day in Malta. We headed to Valetta on the local bus and to the ticket offices of Air Malta and British Air to confirm our flights. No problem with the Air Malta tickets, but at BA we were told that our flight from London to Boston had been cancelled. So, they got us a direct flight from Malta to London, connecting to a Boston flight. The only glitch- the Malta to London flight left at 2:40 am.

We decided to make the most of our last few hours in Malta and headed to the “Wartime Experience”. Malta’s role in WWII was critical. It suffered 154 days of continuous bombing in 1942.

We finally got to St John’s Co-Cathedral. It was built in 15 73-78 as the church of the Knights of St John. The inside is sheer baroque. On either side of the nave are eight chapels dedicated to the langues of the Order of St John. It’s as if each one tried to out-do the next in decoration

Photo courtesy of Flickr

John was tempted to see “The Siege of Malta”, but we walked by and realized that it was a schmaltzy walk-through with bad wax dummies and awful sound track. So, we passed on the “experience” and headed to another lunch of spicy spags at our favorite restaurant in Valetta.

After lunch was the Museum of Archaeology. The only gallery open was the Neolithic Age gallery. It contained the famous female figurines found at the various Neolithic sites across the island- fertility goddesses with tiny hands and feed and huge thighs and arms. They often had removable heads.

Photo courtesy of Flickr

Our last touring stop was the War Rooms of Lascaris. With a audio guide, we walked through the tunnels that were used during WWII as Malta’s command center to track the movement of ships and aircraft.

A bit of last minute shopping while John sipped a beer at the corner café. We got dinner at Ta’Kolina and had our last meal of lampuki. Then, we had to head back and pack for our AM flight. Our landlady was picking her sister up at the airport at midnight, so she offered to take us to the airport. While waiting in line, we met a man from South Africa who had come to Malta to bury his mother. She died on a flight and the plane was routed to the closest airport, which happened to be Malta. Since there are very strict rules about transporting bodies (and huge expense), they decided to have her buried in Malta. They only allow burial for 3 years and then you are dug up. At that point, they can come back to pick up her ashes.