Going for baroque
Malta in the cold and rainy months? Why not, asks Willa Thayer, after soaking up the eclectic architecture and language, shopping until she dropped, while dodging the midday thunderstorms
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Centre of Maltese nightlife Spinola Bay, offers a visual feast by day with its fishing boats protected by the eye of Osiris; architectural styles vye for attention in Mdina
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Just before starting university, I hauled myself pretty much all over Italy seeking out the country's baroque architecture. What's not to like about baroque art? Like the proverbial thinking man's sex bomb, the style, incorporating the practical wisdom of the Renaissance, but shot through with a considerable dose of passion, speaks not only to the mind but the heart as well. So on a sunny June afternoon while standing outside a church in Syracusa, Sicily, I had an epiphany. The temperature was well above 40 degrees Celsius -- excellent epiphany weather. "The greatest thing is just to love and be loved in return?" Or the word of the Hare Krishnas, whom I had seen the day before singing and beating their tambourines as they made their way along the main thoroughfare of Messina while everyone on the street -- and I mean everyone -- turned to stare? No. Never -- ever -- again would I go sightseeing in a Mediterranean city during a summer afternoon, nor would I be so foolish as to think that I could withstand hauling about in the hot months any further south. I had discovered my limits and was about to be felled by a nasty case of heatstroke.
Last August, and more than a decade later, I had reason to recall that day in Syracusa. I was heading to the office at midday in the balmy 45 Centigrade weather that has become characteristic of summer in Cairo, thinking, as I'm sure millions of others moving around the city at the same time were: if I don't get off this bridge in five minutes I'm going to shrivel up. While foregoing work in the summer is not an option for me, with respect to fun, I've stuck to the wisdom of my youth. So when I told people that I hoped to visit Malta this winter with the aim of checking out the Maltese baroque architecture and the responses came to the effect "it will be so rainy and cold," I just laughed.
Only once did I feel that the tables had turned and I had become the object of the weather's laughter, having foolishly suggested a walk around the ramparts of the coastal capital in defiance of the storm clouds rolling in from the sea. Negotiating the intermittent showers during our four-day visit had little to do with decent gear -- we certainly cursed our absorbent footwear and gloveless fingers on that fateful walk into the bracing wind and rain. What saved us was Malta's bus system, our main form of transport, which proved not only a handy manner of conveyance but also a warm and dry refuge from the rain. Whenever the skies opened up and poured forth, we were usually able to hop on an orange public bus within five to 10 minutes.
Malta's network of buses, many of them "vintage" British Bedford vehicles from the 1950s and 1960s, emanate in a dense network from the capital Valetta, bringing even the country's farthest- flung destinations within reach in less than 40 minutes -- providing that traffic is on your side.
Just how tiny the island nation is became apparent on the trip from the airport in central Malta to our hotel, the Westin Dragonara in the coastal resort city of St Julian's, the trip taking less than 20 minutes. St Julian's is the main city in the eastern flank of the most densely populated part of the country that begins with Valletta to the west and includes Sliema in the middle.
Because the country is so small it's easy to fall into the trap of thinking that you can and should visit as much of the island as possible, and although we took in four destinations outside the island's hub, visitors to the country, especially those on as brief a trip as we were, should not feel they are missing out by spending most of their time in the Valletta-Sliema-St Julian's axis.
St Julian's and the neighbouring Paceville are the places to head for an evening out. Although we opted for early nights -- ignoring the bar and disco scene altogether -- for those who are so inclined the offerings are diverse and lively. From English-style pubs, salsa venues to discos, they're all in Paceville -- even in winter. In summer, the area is apparently witness to much after- libations rowdiness, but even on the gloomy Friday night of our visit police seemed to be preparing for mayhem as early as 10pm, milling about in the main thoroughfares in large numbers or cruising the streets in groups of six in mini- vans.
Dining out in Malta proved a bit of a bust. Having expected light, delicious fare characteristic of the areas along the Mediterranean's north shore, we were faced with large portions of bland offerings at a number of restaurants. The hearty peasant fare of our hotel breakfast of local bread, cheese and a wide range of pork products, oddly enough, proved the gastronomic highlight of the trip.
We did have a good dinner feasting on the traditional rabbit, along with decent pasta and delicious local Red Label Gellewza red wine at Ristorante di Guzeppe, spending about 50 euros. Traditional cuisine seemed not to have made it out of homes and into restaurants in any big way on the island. San Giuliano appeared to have the best Italian fare if their menu is anything with which to judge, but sadly the establishment was closed during the week of our visit. Be prepared to pay, however, as a meal for two with wine would run at a minimum of 100 euros.
Restaurants seemed on the pricey side in general in Malta, but after a mid-range meal whose culinary standards were declared by the half- centimetre-thick prosciuotto slices of our antipasto, allocating your food budget to splurge on steeper options -- perhaps by eating a number of meals at some of the many kebab stands in St Julian's -- would seem a more satisfying approach.
In terms of retail pleasures, Sliema -- on our much-travelled route to Valletta -- is the place to go with its many shops from the British high street. The city is also a pleasant way station, as we discovered on the first day of our trip. Eager to stretch our legs, we set out by foot from St Julian's, leaving open whether to continue on by ferry to the capital or check out the shopping options. The five-kilometre walk after a virtually sleepless night on the aeroplane, though, meant that all we were really up for was coffee and sandwiches at one of Sliema's corniche-side cafés, where we were afforded an excellent view of not only Valletta's ramparts and church domes across the harbour, but the Marks and Spencer just down the street.
A winter visit to Malta is ideal for quiet, leisurely walks. Wide paved sidewalks are virtually everywhere, and while the island is certainly not flat, the main cities have nothing on other hilly port cities like San Francisco or Beirut; the coverage of bus routes, too, makes it viable to abandon a walk at the drop of a hat.
Our jaunt from St Julian's to Sliema gave us a good overview of the architectural styles that sit in the shadow of the Maltese baroque. Spinola Bay, part of St Julian's and home to the country's most upscale eateries, is overlooked on one side by Ottoman era architecture with its elaborate wrought iron grilles on rounded bay windows -- visually a close cousin the style in parts of old Beirut.
On the opposite side of the bay, two-storey buildings with enclosed balconies jutting out from the second floor predominate. Visitors to Cairo's Palace Walk, or readers of Naguib Mahfouz's novel which takes that street as its name, will be familiar with the feature that was part of domestic architecture pretty much everywhere we visited in Malta -- on old and new buildings alike. In contrast to their Cairene cousins, the Maltese balconies have windowpanes rather than intricate carved wooden screens through which women could peer into the street but not so easily be peered at. But that's not the only feature making the Maltese version relatively immodest. Painted to match the front door, the balconies sport bright colours -- brick red and teal seemed particular favourites -- sassily drawing the gazes of passers-by.
The indigenous honey- coloured limestone that faces the historic and just- built edifices is another feature contributing to architectural continuity. Most 16th- and 17th-century baroque uses this warm looking stone, similar in colour to that which is prevalent in Beirut and Jerusalem. Amidst such beauty, the new high-rises -- some replete with reflective windows and shiny metal fittings -- make for a visually unwelcome intrusion, and one that appears set to become even more of a menace if the number of cranes we saw in the area is any indication.
Leaving St Julian's to enter Sliema we were greeted by a sign reading "merhba", which Arabic speakers will immediately and correctly assume to mean "welcome". We continued, leaving behind triq kbira, (Main Road), making our way along triq borj (Tower Road). And while earthquakes in the late mediaeval era wiped out much of the material evidence of the 250-plus years in which the Tunisian Aghlabid dynasty of Qairawan ruled the island, the Arab legacy was alive around us on signs and in conversation through the Maltese language. Drawing largely on Arabic and Italian, this Semetic language includes a smattering of French and a bit of English, integrated more recently. Numbers are spoken precisely as they are in Arabic, and any native speaker of Arabic with enough sensitivity and patience to follow colloquial dialects from outside their homeland should be able to understand plenty of Maltese.
While the Arabic language is offered in the secondary-school curriculum, Malta has, of late, been looking north in terms of its economy and identity, following a brief period of looking to the Arab world under the non-aligned policy of the Labour Party government which held sway for a decade and a half after British forces left the island in 1979. Citizens attested to Malta's European character on 8 March this year when they cast a majority of ballots in favour of joining the European Union (EU). As signs around the country by the pro-EU Nationalist Party put it in the weeks before the polls, "Dilwaqt, trid an tedecide" (It's time to decide).
The political and historic centre of the country is its tiny capital of Valletta. A mere 55 hectares, the little baroque city on a hill overlooking the Mediterranean is the must-see for visitors to the island. Founded in 1566, it takes its name from de la Valette -- grandmaster of the Knights of the Order of St John of Jerusalem at the time they arrived on the island. The order went on a building frenzy some 35 years after coming to the island, constructing its formidable, fortress-like city walls, St John's Cathedral, sumptuous living quarters for the knights and offices for governance and war.
For those eager to criss-cross the island, the Phoenicia Hotel, part of the Le Meridien chain, which overlooks the Valletta bus terminus would be an excellent place to stay. Possessing all the amenities -- save a beach -- the hotel has the added bonus of being built to look as though it is a contemporary of its 16th- and 17th-century neighbours (although it was actually completed in 1940), a rarity on the island with its mostly cosmopolitan, could-be-anywhere-in-the-world luxury hotels. Though a five-star hotel and bus station might seem incongruous neighbours, bus transport trumps rental car as the best means of getting around the island for tourists because of the dearth of parking. Similarly, while driving on the left side of the road is unlikely to faze Britons, it's a daunting prospect for people from most other parts.
Whether you opt for bus or car, though, you'll be obliged to hoof it along Valletta's main thoroughfare, Republic Street, which is closed to vehicles. While it would be easy to walk the entire length of the street in about 10 minutes, to do so would be to miss out what was for me the greatest pleasure of my visit to the country. After perusing some guide books and a coffee table book of the island's stately homes, my travel companion and I sheepishly acknowledged to one another that we weren't dying to visit all of the palaces and government buildings constructed by the knights. For me the exteriors were where it was at, meaning that a slow walk up Republic St and along the parallel Merchant and Old Bakery streets proved the way to enjoy the city. Other than on the city's perimetres, where 18th- and 19th-century six- and seven-storey limestone apartment buildings abut the 16th-century ramparts to form their own wall overlooking the port and the Mediterranean, most buildings are no taller than two or three storeys, giving Valetta an almost village-like scale vertically as well as area-wise.
Topping my list of Malta musts was St John's Cathedral, home to two paintings by Caravaggio, Neapolitan master of baroque painting. The cathedral's austere exterior utterly fails to prepare the visitor for the visual assault of its garish wall and ceiling paintings. Knowing that the Caravaggios were in the oratory attached to the cathedral, I kept my head down as I made my way through the place of worship. Happily, a more interesting sight, though only a slightly less gaudy one, was to be found on the cathedral floor in the form of the marble slabs commemorating members of St John's brotherhood. Marble intarsia spelled out the names of the departed amidst representations of skulls and full skeletons and the odd gleeful cherub, in a marble palette encompassing the full spectrum of colours.
The more famous of the two Caravaggios, The Beheading of St John the Baptist demands to be seen in life. Its size, which is almost cinematic in scale at some five by three metres, contributes to its dramatic power in depicting the moments right after the execution, as all witnesses to the act, save an old woman who holds her head in her hands, look on in amused interest or mechanically go about the business of taking a life.
Beyond paying fealty to the order that had given him much needed sanctuary, Caravaggio may have had his own martyr complex. A passionate renegade himself, the painter had fled to Malta to escape murder charges in Naples. He was incarcerated twice during his two-year stay; first upon his arrival, and then after completing his masterpieces, leading him to flee to modern-day Italy where he died soon after.
The much briefer visit of another figure with a flair for the dramatic, Napoleon, is commemorated by a plaque on Merchants St's Palazzo Parisio, ironically now the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The emperor spent less than two weeks on the island in 1798, confiscating much of the wealth of the Order of St John to finance his campaign in Egypt where he was heading.
In contrast to such drama and upheaval, continuity and respectability were the words that came to my mind when I entered Mdina's cathedral. Once again my eyes were drawn to the floor made up of marble intarsia blocks commemorating the city's prominent citizens. Built in the 16th century by the Maltese baroque master Lorenzo Gafa, St Paul's Cathedral with its voluptuous exterior seems comparatively whimsical alongside the austere mediaeval architecture dominating the walled city that is perched on a hill in the centre of the country.
Mdina obtained its Arabic name meaning "the city" during the Aghlabid era, although its history goes back to Roman times when it was called Melita, from which the country's name is derived. The surnames of the departed on the marble slabs at church, then, are those of Malta's august families -- names that are seen on businesses around the country and in its news, like Inguanez and Carauna (a name referring to the Aghlabids' capital Qairawan, a major city today in Tunisia), Mifsud and Falzon, to name a few.
Mdina takes about 20 minutes to reach by bus from Valletta, and should be visited by even those stopping only briefly in the country. The tiny city is closed to automobiles save for those of its few hundred residents. Everyone traverses much of the city by foot, though, because many of its streets are passageways only a few metres wide. The city affords the ideal location for a romantic getaway, made all the more so by wintry weather: imagine peering out from a cozy room in a high-walled palazzo at the rain-dampened streets set aglow by lamplight while the wind whistles outside. The Xara Palace, pronounced "shara", which is housed in a 16th-century palazzo, offers just such an opportunity. Such romance comes at a price, though, with suites at the Relais & Château hotel starting at 288 euros a night, meals not included.
Having satiated our appetites for architectural beauty, long walks and delicious wine, we prepared for a return to reality. Hoping to bring a taste of those pleasures back with us, we set off for the airport well ahead of our flight, intending to hit the duty free shop to stock up on local wine. A word to the wise: pick up any items usually found in duty free before going to the airport because Luqa Airport has the sorriest duty free shop I've ever seen. Not only was the selection of international brands of the usual fare extremely poor, but the liquor store failed to seize the opportunity to promote domestic brands, carrying wines by a single Maltese vintner.
Our trip from baroque era decadence to contemporary reality happened rather more quickly than we had expected, beginning when our flight was held up to pre-board three passengers under guard. The men weren't Iraqis, contrary to departure-lounge speculation fuelled by the anxious political climate, but from another Arab country, and were leaving Malta owing to what a flight attendant called "visa problems". Because Egypt allows persons of that Arab nationality to obtain visas at its frontiers, we were all Cairo-bound. Consequently, we had ringside seats at one last bit of history before we returned home. While not as dramatic as fleeing a war -- nor, perhaps, the flight of a genius painter or mad emperor -- desperate attempts at immigration ending in untimely departures, are surely one of the central dramas of contemporary history.
Practical information
Emeco Travel (5 Talaat Harb St, tel: 574-9360), in conjunction with Air Malta, offers fly-hotel package trips to Malta, for three or six-night stays.
Ristorante di Guzeppe, Ball St, Paceville, mobile: 9944 1729.
San Giuliano, Spinola Bay, St Julian's, tel: 21 35200.
Westin Dragonara Hotel, www.westinmalta.com.
Phoenicia Hotel,
www.lemeridien-phoenicia.com.
Xara PalaceHotel, www.xarapalace.com.mt.
