It's the holidays. Again. Already. One thing's for sure, this exchange business is hard work.
I took the liberty of beginning on Tuesday instead of Friday, and have arrived in Malta to the sun, sea and my sweetheart. And this time, I think I have taken every available mode of transport to get here: tram, train, metro, bus, airplane, van, ferry, car. Did I miss something?
Grant was waiting for me at the port. The Hilux bounced along what was more potholes than road, and lead me not into temptation, but delivered me from evil. The mini-bus ride from the airport was evil. 100km-per-hour-through-Valetta-with-no-seatbelts kind of evil.
Later, I was tempted, by fruit salad on the terrace. We looked out on the yellow limestone of Marsalforn, Gozo, and at the risk being immediately dumped, I mentioned that the buildings made me think of Price of Persia 2, a relic of my 2-dimensional gaming 90s nerdy stage. Commander Keen, anyone? I wasn't dumped. It remind him too. Ah, the good ol' days.
Source: Symbian Star
But it was not the Arabic-esque architecture I'd come for. I sought a totally different landscape, and before lunchtime the next morning, I'd been wedged into a neoprene suit and stuck underwater with 6kg around my waist and another 12kg on my back. It's a new experience, and one I will elaborate on later.
But for now I got to run, curry is on the stove and it needs eatin'.