Monday, October 26th.
This morning we walked to our coach and drove across the island to Mosta, home of our guide Matthew and to the Rotunda, a parish church whose dome ranks as Europe's third-largest unsupported dome at 37 m/122 ft across. In April 1942, a German bomb pierced the roof during Mass and failed to detonate saving three 300 parishioners who were inside praying, an escape residents still call the Miracle of Mosta. After our tour of the church we continued by coach and drove past the medieval city of Mdina, on our way to see the Dingli Cliffs, where limestone bluffs drop some 250 m/820 ft to the sea and, on clear days, the uninhabited islet of Filfla is visible offshore. At a little shop there I tried the local coffee which is infused with chicory, clove and star anise. It was tasty but strong. Then we drove back to Mdina to have a proper visit of this walled city. It was built by the the Phoenicians, the Romans and then the Arabs on a hill in the interior of the island where they were protected from one side by the cliffs and they could see all the way to the sea and have time to prepare to defend themselves from an attack coming from the sea. Later the fortifications were improved by the Normans and the Kingdom of Sicily. The dry moat and walls are huge and thick to protect the city from catapults and cannons. Matthew gave us a tour and then we had time from lunch and to walk around the narrow streets and explore. We also stopped at the edge of the wall where we could see from their vantage point across the island. Mdina was the capital of Malta for close to a thousand years before the Knights of St. John’s moved the seat of power to Valletta on the coast where their ships could harbour and reach the city more easily. Its cathedral, quiet lanes, and honey-coloured bastions (walls) earned it the nickname "Silent City," a title that still suits its near-empty streets once the day-trip crowds depart; only residents' vehicles are permitted within the walls, and a handful of aristocratic Maltese families still live in the old city. At this point Matthew, who all along on this trip has relished telling us juicy stories of naughty knights, and religious people and politicians) told us of a nun living in the nunnery in Mdina. She is the last of her order, she is 73 and rambling around in the big building. In order to get some company and make some money she has been secretly renting out space in the nunnery. This is illegal as she does not own the building, the church does. When the Bishop found out he was furious and has order her eviction and relocation to another nunnery somewhere else. But, she is defying the Bishop and refuses to leave! This is in the eccleisatical courts presently. Matthew promises to advise us the outcome when it is announced. Just outside the walls, Rabat (which means suburb) holds the remains of the Roman city of Melite. Here we took a short tour of the bomb shelters the British and local families carved out of the rock during World War II. Later we descended into the Catacombs of St. Paul and St. Agatha, which are extensive underground burial complexes used by Malta's early Christian and Jewish communities from the 3rd century onward. In both places I imagined with horror the job and labour required to dig out the tunnels, the dark lit by gas lamps, the claustrophobia, the repositioning the dirt, the dust, the stench of both human waste and decomposition, the fear of bombs… That completed the day and we made our way back to the hotel. We had some time before we went to dinner as a group. My stomach has been bothering me off and on since Algeria, so I have been taking it easy, but today I felt good, so I had octopus. I was cooked in a sauce and was delicious, very tender and flavourful. I had a beer later in the lounge with Chuck and then headed off to bed.
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