As an American, we cannot have the appreciation of what World War Two actually cost.  Not in terms of dollars but in terms of lives, freedoms, sacrifices. We don't fully understand what was at stake.  We may have family that served during that time or sacrificed with rations, but it did not affect us the way it affected those living in areas that were invaded or bombed.  Malta was the most bombed place during that time.  It was a key spot in the Mediterranean for resupplying troops, planning, and mounting counter offenses. The Romans knew it was important, the Ottomans wanted it, Napoleon prized it.  At one point, the island was in danger of starving and needed to be resupplied.  An aircraft carrier, a dozen merchant ships and just as many navy vessels embarked on a daring run to the island.  Only 5 of the merchant ships made it.  They were bombed, torpedoed, attacked all along the way.  This supply allowed Malta to keep fighting and eventually allow the planning and execution of D Day from the Lascaris War Rooms.




 

Stone walls, tiled floors, artwork on the walls. The furniture chosen with care over the centuries to fill the house built in the 1500s. A family moved from Rhodes to Malta with the Knights of St John. The pieces were currated, not chosen haphazardly and maintained.  As time went on, more artwork was obtained. Dishes chosen as well.  Documents kept and organized.  Books stocked the two libraries from ancient texts to modern novels.  Each item told a story of the owners.  This house has been in the family since it was built and we had the opportunity to glance into their world.  The dining table set with care and used daily. Family photos adorn end tables in the salon that depict special moments in their lives.  A small desk against a window, the balcony with tea service.  The family pet a parrot greeting visitors in the garden.  A peak into the cellars which were actually a bomb shelter built for WWII. The shelter allowed more than just family members to seek refuge there. I wanted to ask so many questions. Instead, I tucked little ideas away that I found interesting or commonalities between their things and my tastes.  I loved how the rooms had their own character and that it fused the antique with the modern. I became inspired by their choices and their commitment to their past while in the present.  I thought about how much family and roots are protected there and we tend to blow away like dandelion seeds not really rooting close to home but spreading out instead.












 

Once inside the city gate, the streets of Valletta were laid out in a grid, going either north to south or east to west. It was a planned city built upon rock and surrounded by thick walls.  A few streets curved but not like the winding paths that many European cities have.  Cafes lined the streets along with trinket shops, jewelry stores and historical places.  Umbrellas and chair colors designated one cafe from another just like the balconies matched the color of the front door.  Pigeons swooped overhead landing on sign and roofs, getting underfoot at cafes, begging for crumbs to be dropped.  Music trickled down the street from one cafe to another and around the corner.  Soccer games were televised so you could have a drink outdoor and not miss your team's match.  From 10 am onwards to well into the night laughter could be heard rising from the streets. Cars drove on the outer streets and deliveries were made in the morning before tourists were up and going.  There were few plants and what doorways did have plant, they grew from rocky little planters.  Buildings were mainly three to four stories high and all made from the yellow limestone of the island, most were hundreds of years old with arches or scrolled brackets.  We wandered through the city, discovering how easy it was to find our way around, to convivence stores, cafes or pistazzerias and also the different historical places and forts.  We learned quickly where our favorite Gardens were and side streets and I would invariably find my way back to these over and over again.  

The harsh sun that had cast dark shadows slowly made its way across the sky.  The heat baked the stones of the buildings and the streets.  People had crowded cafes, restaurants and bars that were shaded with umbrellas.  We wandered along looking for the perfect place for a cool drink. Towards the end of the city atop of a bastion overlooking the entrance to the Grand Harbor was a little public garden. There was a couple of girls posing infront of the small Greek temple like structure taking turns.  A group of ladies having a glass or two of wine along the wall. The shadows grew longer and spots were claimed overlooking the harbor.  We wandered through the garden, enjoying the shade from the palm trees and purchased a glass of wine and some beer from the kiosk located just outside of the park.  We took our glasses and watched as the city across the harbor turned to a lovely gold from the setting sun.  As the sky grew darker, we turned in our glasses and head back to our little room in the heart of Valletta.   I visited this park in the morning as well.  There were no girls taking selfies or couples having drinks. With the sun low and streaming from the East, lighting up the arches I had the whole park to myself. Serenity and peace came to mind as I quietly walked along the high wall. The green of the space compared to the stone of the city was a welcome site for my eyes.  I turned this way and that marveling how no one else was taking advantage of the peace found here.  I almost wished for an espresso but that might have ruined it.  The small amount of time spent here alone was a breather and I was ready for breakfast, coffee and another day of sightseeing after this.









 

 

We walked down the path to a tentlike structure.  The sun heated the stones all around us drenching the landscape with light.  The bright azure sea provided a cool backdrop to the otherwise tan landscape.  Showing our ticket at the entrance, we made our way into the enclosure.  Small lizards darted past us. Dust was kicked up by our feet and it felt like we became part of an archeological dig.  We stepped through doorways of stone, alters with designs came into view. Passages to other part invited us to explore. Views of the sea peaked through.  Immense stones as lintels to doorways stood for thousands of years and we walked under them.  This place was built before the pyramids, before Stonehenge, before metal tools or wheels.  The large stones were chipped, dragged, shoved into place.  We think we can do so much because of all the knowledge and tools we have and there are things that are remarkable that we have built yet I find this place even more outstanding because of the things they didn't have. I look at the way this was built with stones overlapping stones so that weight keeps them from collapsing. It reminds me of building with Legos as a kid and learning how to place blocks for the roof and not have it cave inwards.  Then there are the designs decorating the block.  It tells me that though something is utilitarian it can be beautiful as well.  That we have something in us that wants beauty and function.  The conjecture is that some of it is a calendar but how it works they don't know.  Still, it is done with beauty.  Statues have been found and there is this talent to be admired. There were artisans then that could see something in the stone and shape it.  As we left this ruin and walked to another, I processed what I had seen.  The next ruin was similar, reinforcing my thoughts.  I started to wonder, what happened to these people?  They were artistic, analytical, dedicated, builders?  These temples were created with care.  How does something like that get forgotten, covered by time and then rediscovered thousands of years later? Did this group sail away?  Were they taken away? Did they flee? Or did they die out? It makes me think about now and the future.  Will our cities one day be covered by time only to be rediscovered later?  There are towns now that are "ghost" towns yet they will not stand as long because wood rots and falls apart.  Stone lasts, but still it will wear away given the time. As we walked away, we thought and talked pondering so much about humanity, about ourselves, about our faith. I guess that is what travel does, it makes you take a breath, learn, explore and question. This was just day one of our trip and yet I had so much more to discover.