Saturday 3 April 2010

Malta-Day 4

Our last day in Malta, but since our plane wouldn't be leaving until around 8 p.m, we decided to go back into Valletta and visit St. Johns Co-Cathedral, as it had been closed to tours when we went on Sunday. But first, we just had to check out the rooftop pool.



And a shot of the bay from the roof:



There are several rooms in the Cathedral that you can't take any pictures or video in at all. Julie thinks this could be because they don't want anyone trying to figure out how to steal anything. She may be right. The first no photos room has about 10 original Caravaggios, one of which is a painting called 'The beheading of St. John the Baptist' and it covers an entire wall. Another, 'St. Jerome Writing' was stolen in the mid-80's and was returned some years later after undergoing restoration in Rome (I believe it had been cut from it's frame). The other rooms include a Choral room, which houses old choir books in a glass case and a Vestaments room which has old capes, etc. worn by former priests. Throughout there are old tapestries lining the walls, all dating to around the 1600's.

The main area and alcoves were available for pictures...but these don't do it justice.







Some of the ornate work you see on the walls:



After the Cathedral we went through the Archaeology Museum and then to the outdoor cafe we'd visited previously for a snack. Picked up our final souvenirs and got back to the hotel around 5. They'd said we could store our bags in the 'luggage room', which ended up being basically a closet that also had an entrance to the handicapped bathroom. I was worried about our stuff most of the day since the room didn't lock, despite the desk clerks assurances that the room was 'perfectly safe'. Fortunately, everything was there and intact when we got back. We had to go through the bags anyway to fit in what we'd just bought, so it gave us the chance to make sure nothing had been taken without offending any hotel personnel.

Our shuttle arrived around 5:30 and we were off to Malta airport. Got checked in okay, despite being behind idiots (why does that always seem to happen?) and someone trying to cut in line. Even though there was a guy there who was supposed to be watching for this kind of thing, Simon is the one who ended up pointing him to the back of the line. This was mainly due to the fact that WE were the ones he cut in front of. At any rate, we checked our bags and after one last smoke outside for me, went through security and into the main terminal.

At some airports, you can wander around then go sit at your gate until your flight arrives, even if you're 3 hours early. The smaller airports like Luton and Malta don't do this. You sit in an area waiting for the sign to give the all clear to proceed to your gate. In the meantime, you browse around the duty-free and whatever eateries may be open. So we looked around the Malta Hard Rock Cafe and the duty-free, then sat by the door that led to our gate. Once they started letting us through, we sat right up by where the boarding line starts and waited for about an hour. The Malta airport has a smoking lounge in these areas, something I wish OHare and Newark possessed, as opposed to having to go outside and through security again. We had priority boarding, something you always want if you're on a flight that doesn't assign seats (take note, anyone traveling on Southwest Airlines), this way you have a fairly good chance at getting towards the front of the plane. Neither of us have the patience for people who take forever to get their carry-on bags down while everyone else is waiting to get off.

A boring 3 hour flight and we were back at Luton for what became for me 'Fun with customs'. It didn't help that we hadn't eaten since around 4, we tired as hell and a flight of Non-Eu's had just landed so I had to wait in line while they cluelessly went through themselves. Maybe it's my impatience issues, but it seems like half the people coming into a foreign country are loaded with stupid questions and can't give straight answers. And, of course, they had about 25 kids between them so the process was even slower cause they had to keep stopping to round them up.

Simon, with his EU passport sailed right through dammit.

Finally my turn came. Now, I should mention that there is a refusal stamp in the back of my passport. This is because we'd been given some wrong information and I applied for the wrong marriage visa. But I do have the proper one in there as well. I went through the usual interrogation on where I live, why I was there, what did my husband do for a living, etc.. I expect this. But this moron obviously needed a nap. There's a date on the refusal stamp and a date on my settlement visa. All you need to do is compare them and my story is corroborated. You also have all my info, including bio-metrics, on your computer screen. Why the fuck are you grilling me and acting like you don't know what to do with me? Finally, he asked the officer next to him for advice. He looked at it all and said something like, 'If you aren't sure, you can take her for more questions but I'd just let the lady get on her way.'. Simon is waiting for me and he can tell from the looks I'm giving him that I'm getting ready to blow. He puts his finger in front of his mouth, and shakes his head. I know I can't get upset with these people, and I wasn't going to...but it was difficult as I was tired and hungry and fed up with this idiot. But you absolutely CANNOT give attitude to a customs agent and you HAVE to answer everything, no matter how stupid or how obvious or how many times he's already asked. They can pull you out and keep you hanging for as long as they like.

Finally he let me go and we collected our bags and got on the bus that would take us to the parking lot for the car. Wonderful England, it's pouring rain and cold. Now, we should have been home by 12:30. But, as usual, parts of the M1 were down to one lane which were filled with idiots who acted like they didn't know how to drive in a downpour. Not knowing how to drive in the UK when it's raining is as absurd as living in Chicago and not knowing how to drive in the snow. Eventually, after a brief stop at a McDonalds drive thru, we got home around 1:45 a.m. Brought the bags in and went upstairs to collapse into bed. Poor Simon had to be out the door at 7 a.m for work.

So there you have it. Malta was absolutely fantastic and we can't wait to go back. It was so much more enjoyable than Paris. When he first saw a story on it in a flight magazine on his way to Russia, Simon didn't think there would be much to do even though it looked nice with lots of ruins (a favorite...give us some old temples and run down castles and we're in). The more we researched it the more we realized there's plenty to occupy a few days. I would recommend a minimum of 4 days to anyone thinking of going. We really should have stayed about 5-6 to see all of it. But schedules didn't permit this and at least we have an excuse for going back!