After putting on a clean pair of drawers, we set out for the included breakfast which proved to be a bit heavy. We each had some avocado toast with poached egg. There was an assortment of pastries and things as well, but we were not allowed to choose which ones we got, just sort of a random sampler that was given to us. Oh well.
We eased into our day by driving up to Ramla Bay Beach, the only sandy beach on Gozo, and it was accordingly crowded. It wasn’t like Jersey Shore crowded, but we did have to park a ways away and walk in due to lack of parking spots. The sand is an orange-ish red color there. The skin color of the beachgoers was a similar hue of red or pure white — soon to become red. The water itself was quite cold, though many were not deterred by this.
Ramla beach seemed close to the Xwejni Bay salt pans, though we still ended up taking 15 minutes to get to them. On the way, we ended up in that same stupid town where we did laundry and there are inexplicable one-way streets and construction and chaos. While attempting to make a sharp 170º blind right turn, I scraped part of the front tire, so that’ll be something to deal with later at Hertz. The salt pans are actually still used to extract salt and we saw a worker tending to it, whatever that entails. I thought it might be a good spot to check out later when the sun is going down.
From there, we made our way on another 15 minute drive toward a winery past the small town of Gharb (pronounced “Arb” because the G and H would obviously be silent). However, as we got to Gharb, we decided to park the car for a bit and check out the cute and quiet streets. The town seemed deserted, but I liked the creme-colored buildings and British phone boxes, a remnant of their colonial rule here. We continued just a bit down the road to the Ta’ Dbiegi Artisan’s Village. We fashioned ourselves a lunch of baked goods. I doubled up with a cherry and almond frolla (a very dense hand cake), and a chocolate and caramel tart. Nicole picked up some hand-made glass at a nearby artisan’s shop to celebrate her first lunch of the trip.
When we eventually got to the winery, we found gates closed and seemingly no way to enter the actual winery, so we got up and left, finding out later that it was indeed closed today. Though only 3km from our place near Xlendi, the drive back took . . .15 minutes. It’s impossible to get anywhere in less time. Nicole who had offered to drive a bit today to spare me from the stress, had to negotiate switchbacks that were so narrow and tight that she had to keep reversing to make it around the bends.
Back at our relaxing hotel room, we spent some time out by the pool where I read a trashy summer beach book set in Malta. It’s utter rubbish. I don’t even care if they get together anymore. The characters are so boring and a bunch of do-gooders. Lame. I ordered a Cisk Chill (pronounced like Chisk) — very similar to Leinenkugel’s summer shandy. We also got a big bottle of sparkling water for hydration. Both hit the spot.
We ventured back to the salt pans, which were . . .fine in the evening light before heading back into Gharb for a dinner reservation. I again had ravioli and Nicole had a pizza. After dinner, we walked briefly around the village that had nice strung lights to create some atmosphere. It was a slightly less than 15 minutes drive back to the hotel, but it took us on different roads. That’s what’s bizarre about these roads. Some magically open after 6pm, or are only one-way at certain times, and we’ve never come back the same way we went out. I would like to have a word with whoever designed the road network for this island, but I imagine they’ve died centuries ago considering the roads are narrow, uneven, and definitely never designed for cars.
Tomorrow, we have no definitive plans. I’ve reached a point of acceptance with the condition of driving here, so I think it will be more relaxing. The first few days were just a bit shocking with the speed at which cars make blind turns through narrow alleyways. It seems like an ideal setting for a wild James Bond car chase scene. As it turns out, Sir Roger Moore in The Spy Who Loved Me, had some scenes in Malta, but even he couldn’t hack the Maltese roads and drove his Lotus off a dock into the water (where it turned into a submarine). Anything to avoid driving on these roads I suppose.
passports & pepto bismol 