Paula had started watching the tennis final, but the match went on a fair bit so when we woke we had to find out the result as we had been asleep – though the snoring may have helped keep Paula awake a bit after she switched off the TV.
By the time we woke, we were safely tied up at the World Heritage site of Valetta, with a brass band playing down on the quay and the sun shining on the stone buildings visible right outside out balcony. A great welcome.
We bumped into a Kiwi on deck, dressed in a white shirt and long trousers, which seemed strange for him. He had decided to fly home as he felt that there was nothing much to see for the next 30 days, certainly nothing new, so he might as well be at home as he had plenty to do. I sympathised as the thought had crossed my mind, but we have paid for 90 days of food and entertainment, not 60, so we may as well make the most of it. Reading of storms in Wellington and Christchurch was just a reminder as to one of the reasons why we are away anyway. After a quick breakfast, we ambled off as usual and stumbled on the agents for the HO-HO bus, that was parked just out of sight, further along the street. There was a fair old queue and we had to wait for the next bus which just happened to be the blue route. Just about all the HO-HO companies seem to have at least two routes and occasionally three. In Malta, there are three routes from the red bus company and another two from the blue bus company.
Once aboard, we found ourselves on a fairly old (probably ex UK) double decker that was well past its prime and I have to say, quite grubby. We were downstairs and the rear seats had windows alongside totally covered by external, opaque graphics, so that you couldn't see a thing. Very poor. We were just along from the back and the seats faced inwards, which wasn't much better.
Anyway, off we chugged, with a distinct smell of hot engine pervading the cabin. Ah well, for €10 each, you don't expect too much in the way of luxury. Between the close stops of 4 (the craft village) and 5 (the aircraft museum), there was an almighty bang and shudder and the right rear wheels locked up, leaving a very impressive skidmark.
We piled off the stricken Daimler whilst the driver contacted head office. Sadly, he didn't seem to be keen to address the passengers with any progress reports and some passengers wandered back up the road to the village, waiting to jump on the next bus through. Probably the best option in hindsight, as by the time it came through it was packed solid and had no room for those who waited.
A mechanic arrived in a little van and jammed a block of concrete behind the rear wheels of the bus, then reversed over it – crushing it, but managed to get the bus to the side of the road. He then crawled underneath and spent some time doing whatever needed to be done, forward of the rear wheels. He effected a temporary repair. To a subdued cheer, those who were left (including the gobby old woman who claimed she wasn't getting back on it, and who wanted to know why the bus company didn't have a load of spare buses…) reboarded. No sooner had we got on than the next bus came along and we all piled off again and onto it and onwards to Mdina, where most of us decided to stay on board. We'd had enough and decided that we wouldn't do either of the other routes either.
Not having been to Malta before, we had no idea how dry it was and although the buildings are very interesting, there was a distinct lack of lush greenery and it was warm – about 35 degrees. Maybe if we'd had a better run with bus number 1, we would have seen a bit more of the island as there is no doubt it is interesting.
We hopped off the bus back in Valetta at the bus station and walked into the main part of town. A busy, traffic free street with the side streets on either side, falling away to the water. By this time were ready for a drink and a bite and we found this small side street café. Prices were good (Italian chicken baguette, chicken salad ciabatta at €3 each), but the Coca-Cola wasn't really very cold and the service was less than friendly.
We walked back to sea front and the ship via the impressive Victoria Gate, but didn't buy at the Duty Free shop and settled for a mango juice each in the atrium ($2 each). Too hot for a coffee.
Just before sailaway, there was another local band playing on the quay and a few minutes after we let go of the lines, there was a cannon salute, fired from land which made it a bit special. Fortunately, the captain had pre-warned us! All these Vietnam vets on board would probably have dropped to the floor had they not been warned.
We seemed to have settled into a bit of a late night routine, with an atrium coffee or hot chocolate with M & M. We are certainly missing Alan and Alana though, as the ship's public areas are dead quite early. We have hardly danced at all and with so many ports, there haven't been dancing classes either. We even decided to veer through Jammer's night club for a change, to check out the action. There were just four people enjoying a quiet drink and it was only about 11:10pm… Yup. We are definitely the late night crowd at the moment.
We now have a relaxing run of 4 sea days including the Suez canal. The doom-mongers have been proved wrong again. We are not returning via Africa or the Panama Canal…
No comments:
Post a Comment