As if right on cue to mark the official arrival of spring, Malta’s mimosa is out in flower. Patches of countryside and many roadside verges have been transformed in the past week or two by the golden domes of these shrubby acacias with their showers of droplet-like flowers. Spring in Malta may be short a season, but it packs more punch for it. And the mimosa, along with the lighter yellow English weed and other spring flowers, covers the islands in yellow.

A good place to see mimosa in abundance and photograph it is along the main road from Mosta to Burmarrad (St Paul’s Bay direction). Both sides have long rows of mimosa – with the best spectacle a little way across a field. The verges are wide enough there to stop your car and take a photo.

The mimosa was first described by the renowned Swedish botanist, Carl Linnaeus, in 1773 in Africa. Australia holds the record number of types of mimosa – some 950 out of 1,300. The mimosa has spread to almost any part of the world that offers a warm, temperate climate whether tropical or quite arid, as here in Malta. So while not a native, it’s very much at home, and a welcome alternative to the golden yellow of our ubiquitous stone. Set against spring green, it’s all the more majestic and colourful a shrub.

In some parts of the Mediterranean, mimosa is used as the base for perfumes, though for those prone to allergies or hay fever, it can be an unwelcome irritant. We don’t have it in such volume here in Malta though to harvest and it’s left to its own devices in waste land and fields. Its flowering will soon be over so enjoy it while you can.

Photo: Paul Downey

I have two types of Valletta walks.

The first is the Saturday stroll with the bustling crowds and my seven year-old, where at some stage there is a planned pit-stop of a cappuccino for me and a cassatella for him. The second is an evening passeggiata, when the streets are empty and almost silent except for the clickety clack of a heel, where the orange lights play tricks with shadows of our linked arms. And always, at some stage, there is a voice inside that says ‘Look up.’

It’s so easy to go rushing about our lives without noticing what is happening around us. In Valletta, much of the beauty of the old city is above our head. Look up, for there is much to feast the eyes on – whether you’re squinting in the sun, or trying to make out a detail in the half dark.

You will see…

Old balconies
Dolce-vita style signage
Pigeons
An old lady peering from behind a lace curtain
Bold stone sculptures
Caper plants on the bastions
Washing on lines
Wicker bread baskets dangling on strings
Gargoyles
‘Tourists are welcome’ signs
Derelict, abandoned upper storeys
Stepped streets looming ahead vertically
Bird cages in balcony windows

What else have I missed?

This is the first guest post from Evarist Bartolo, Shadow Minister for Education and a lecturer in communications at the University of Malta. More than 30 years ago, he taught one of Malta Inside Out’s founders, Alex Grech, to write and appreciate English literature.

There are at least 500 islands in the Mediterranean. One of them has six inhabitants: four men and two women. The youngest is a 42-year old man; the oldest is a woman, twice his age.

Throughout the last 23 centuries pirates, hermits, prisoners of war, exiled knights, farmers and tourists have settled the island. Some 80 years ago, one of the German prisoners of World War I held there, built a water mill driven by a rat. Apart from rats, bats and wild rabbits, most of the inhabitants there have been pigs.

2,500 years ago, the navigator Scillace called it ‘Lampas’. Cluverius called it ‘Hephaestia’. 1,800 years ago Ptolemy referred to it as ‘Chemmona’. ‘Kineni’ in Greek means nearest to and Comino lies nearest to Malta. The Arabs called it ‘Kemmuna’ perhaps a corruption of the Greek word, or a reference to the plant of ‘kemmun’ (cumin) which covered large areas of the island at the time.

In 1285, Abulafia, one of the earliest Cabalists and born in Saragossa in 1240, arrived on Comino to live there for three years during which he compiled his “Sefer ha-Ot” (The Book of the Sign).

Five years before he found refuge in Comino, Abulafia went to Rome to convert Pope Nicholas III to the ideal that Moslems, Jews and Christians could live together in harmony, instead of persecuting one another. He fled to Comino after being flung into prison for four weeks in Rome and then having to leave Palermo hastily as his teachings were considered too dangerous and he was going to be stoned by the people.

While Abulafia lived in a cave at one end of the island, at the other end pirates sheltered in the bays and caves which were excellent hiding places for them for many centuries. We know of at least two local hermits who lived there for some time. A small Catholic community must have lived there over 600 years ago, big enough to sustain a medieval chapel.

The island was probably abandoned when the raids by corsairs became frequent, as the inhabitants had no fortifications in which to seek refuge. In the 15th century, taxes had been collected by imposing an excise duty on wine imported from Sicily but the money was not used for the tower that had been planned for Comino. In 1533 Grand Master l’Isle Adam also commissioned a plan for a tower on the island but again this project fizzled out.

Grand Master Wignacourt built the existing tower in 1620 and 30 soldiers were stationed there. At this time, knights who had misbehaved in Malta were punished by being sent to Comino.

The island was to serve as a prison camp on a number of occasions. At the end of the French occupation, Comino was used for French prisoners, Maltese who were accused of spying for the French and common criminals.

150 years ago, farmers from Naxxar settled on Comino and started growing crops. The 1881 population census for the Maltese Islands tells us that 20 males and 13 females lived in Comino. Ten years later, the population had increased by 10: 25 males and 18 females. Nearly half of the inhabitants, 17, were children under the age of five.

In 1912, Comino served as a site for an isolation hospital for cholera victims. Soldiers wounded in the war of the Dardanelles were also sent to Comino for treatment. The hospital building still stands there.

Several times during the last 200 years there were several big projects to make use of Comino, including a big pig farm in 1993, when the island was considered ideal to rebuild the Maltese and Gozitan pig industry after African swine fever disease destroyed it.

Comino is a small rock that has seen almost as many twists and turns of fate as its larger sister islands. These days, apart from its six residents, it’s home to one hotel, seasonal staff and tourists, numerous sea craft and a very popular blue lagoon.

Photo: Therese Debono

The spring equinox at Mnajdra Temples takes place this year on 20 and 21 March and Heritage Malta is once again giving guided tours and early-bird rights of access to a lucky 40 people only, so as ‘to enhance the visitor experience’. May be, just may be this year, I’ll manage to get out of bed (at around 04.45) to get there in time – I am a bare 10 minutes’ drive away. If you want to go, book quickly (see below) so you won’t miss the magic unfold as of the first shafts of the summer season’s sunrise enter the temple’s inner sanctum.

If you’re at all into prehistory, mysticism or ancient cults or just fancy a more unearthly start to your day on that weekend, then it’s worth the effort. We’re giving you a couple of weeks’ notice, but expect tickets to be snapped up quickly.

A bit of background from the experts
The unique setting of the Mnajdra Temples at Qrendi, overlooking the coast, gives them a special charm not to be found in any other of the large-scale megalithic buildings of the Maltese Islands, many of which lie in more urban areas or inland.

Sunrise on the first day of each season underlines the relationship between the temples and celestial bodies. Although it is not known for certain whether these orientations were intentional, they are so systematic that this is very probable. In prehistoric agricultural societies, observation of the motion of the stars, the moon and sun could have been related to the changing seasons and times of planting and harvesting crops.

On these Equinox days, the first rays of the sun light up the edge of a megalith found to the right of the central doorway connecting the first pair of chamber to the inner chamber of the Lower Mnajdra Temple.

Event Tickets & Further Info
Tickets are €15 for the general public and €10 for Heritage Malta and ICOM members and are strictly on a first-come-first-served basis. You can buy tickets from any Heritage Malta site or museum as well as the Heritage Malta head office, Old University Buildings, Merchants Street, Valletta. Tel: +356 22954000. On the mornings, participants meet point at 05.30 next to the Ħagar Qim main entrance.

For further information, see also the Heritage Malta website.

The place to find green all year round in Malta isn’t the countryside, but our manicured urban areas. Here, roundabouts sport neat turf, irrigation sprinklers (sometimes on in the full heat of summer at 1pm for some reason), evergreen trees and a variety of annual colour – flowering rosemary, gaudily bright pelargoniums and various bedding plants.

The area of even turf can be so large on some roundabouts that kids in the back of my car often remark that they’d make tempting places to play football. Pitches here are Astroturf or gritty dust bowls usually.

Where do Malta’s green fingers come from?
The colour and variety of our roundabouts changes almost monthly as the public-private cooperative, Environmental Landscapes Consortium (ELC), that maintains them, seems to have a constant supply of seasonal plants from its Wied Incita Nursery on the Attard-Mdina/Rabat road. And, of course, replanting all the time keeps people nicely employed. I do wonder at tender pansies out in late February when they can be beaten down in an instant by the vicious rains and high winds we can still have this time of year.

A delight for drivers
Since Malta has large urban areas, with towns cheek by jowl, and a high density of cars on the road per head of population (Malta ranks 5th worldwide for cars per 1,000 people) we drivers spend a lot of time crawling along. So, we’ve have come to appreciate the greening of our urban landscape that has been going on since 2003 when ELC started up. For an interesting read on Malta’s car density issue, click here, and scroll down.

The approach to Valletta along St Anne street, Floriana is always a riot of colour despite registering some of Malta’s worst emission and particulate pollution. The roundabouts in Qormi, another heavily urban area, are a welcome sight as are the planted-up central reservations on the Regional Road. Even several countryside verges have had a make-over.

We’ve also bougainvillea attempting to clad the unsightly walls on the Kappara hill part of the Regional Road. How they will be watered in so dangerous a place till their roots find solace deep below Tarmac, I don’t know.

Urban safety first, urban plants second
In fact, the only negative thing I can say about the whole urban verge and roundabout greening is the traffic hazard posed by the badly parked vans of the maintenance staff or bowsers. It’s quite common to round a bend or emerge from a tunnel and suddenly find a maintenance van parked in your lane without prior warning. A few cones aren’t enough; we need notices saying ‘lane closed, men at work in 500m’, to give us time to change lane safely and avoid screeching to a halt with the potential of a mass of ‘front-to-rear’ bumps. I am waiting for the day an ELC man or a bowser guy is mowed down too.

We like the green, but with a few more cones, some commonsense and caution, we’d like the greening that much more.

At some point on a visit to Malta, you’re bound to spot a coastal defence tower dating from the time of the Knights of St John. Summer visitors reclining on Ghajn Tuffieha or Golden Bay beaches will see one rising on the rocky peninsula between the bays. Another easy-to-spot tower acts as a cafe on the Sliema to St Julian’s seafront.

Until recently, I’d never visited one. But my son’s fascination for these ‘mini-castles’ as he put it meant we ended up twice at the Wignacourt Tower in St Paul’s Bay within as many weeks. Amazingly, given the tower’s small, squat shape, we spent a good hour or more over the detailed displays of maps, texts and models and enjoyed a very thorough guided talk.

Malta’s national trust, Din l’Art-Helwa, runs Wignacourt Tower and last month, February 2010, it celebrated the 400th anniversary of the laying of the foundation stone of the tower. It also marked the 34th anniversary of the restoration on the tower by Din l-Art Helwa.

Victor Rizzo, the treasurer of the organisation, talks here about Wignacourt, Malta’s oldest surviving coastal tower.

Wignacourt Tower

The first coastal tower constructed by the Knights was built overlooking Mgarr harbour in Gozo in 1605 and named Garzes Tower after Grand Master Fra Martin Garzes who left personal funds in his will for the building of this tower.

In order to increase the coastal defences of the Maltese Islands, Grand Master Wignacourt, offered to build more towers at his own expense. The first tower was constructed in St Paul’s Bay and the Grand Master personally attended for the blessing of the foundation stone on 10 February, 1610. The tower was rightly named after the Grand Master. Its design is attributed to the Maltese architect Vittorio Cassar.

As Garzes Tower was demolished by the British in the 19th century, it leaves Wignacourt Tower as the oldest surviving coastal defence post on the Maltese Islands.

Layout & Living Quarters
The original entrance to Wignacourt Tower was through a stone staircase which led to the upper floor; from here, occupants would have to use a rope or ladder to descend to the floor below (today’s entrance at road level). Though the staircase was eventually removed to make way for the road, the original arched entrance and door still remain. The present main entrance on the ground floor is, unfortunately, not the original.

The soldier in charge of the defence of the tower lived on the upper floor. He had his bed, a place for a fire with a ventilation shaft, a toilet, and a well for fresh water. Timber holes in the walls suggest the existence of a secondary wooden floor, supported on beams, intended to provide sleeping quarters. The lower floor was accessible through a trap door and used for storage. A spiral staircase is now in place for visitors.

The Tower in Action
The garrison of Wignacourt Tower, which was commanded by a master bombardier, kept watch for signs of approaching enemy ships. In 1614, only four years after construction, a strong attack by a Turkish fleet was launched. It seems that at the sight of the tower, the fleet entered through Mellieha which was not defended until the building of the Red Fort in 1649.

In 1715, a coastal battery was added to the tower to increase its fire power. The armaments throughout most of the 18th century consisted of two 6-pounder iron cannon, similar to the one deployed on the roof, and three 18-pounder iron cannon placed on the battery at the foot of the tower on its seaward side.

In the 19th century, the tower was used as a police station and as a telegraph post. In 1970, the Lands Department leased the tower to Din l-Art Helwa after a call in the Government Gazette. The restoration was inaugurated on 10 February 1976.

The Tower as a Museum today
The tower now houses a small museum. In 1998, an exhibition of models of fortifications around Malta, set up by Dr. Stephen Spiteri (now Superintendent of Fortifications) was opened. The upper floor houses reproductions of items to show how the occupants of the tower used to live and the armaments they used. In the roof turrets some old photos of the tower are exhibited together with other pictures related to Grand Master Wignacourt and his times. On the roof, is a restored cannon.

Visitor Information
The tower is open to visitors from Monday to Saturday from 9.30 till noon for a small fee of €2. For further information, see the Din l’Art-Helwa website.

Spring in Malta is often quoted as being the best time of the year. But is very brief, and sometimes almost non-existent. I always say I go from wearing boots to flip-flops in week in Malta, so abrupt is the changing of the seasons.

The ‘mezzo tempo’, as our neighbours the Italians call spring (and autumn too), is a season rarely worth buying any clothes for. You may find yourself overdressed and sweating one day, or without enough layers the next having assumed the sun would continue. But it’s not worth planning for, as fashion houses do.

Today though was a beautiful day, which would lighten any heart and a day to be out in the blue and warmth as long as possible. We walked the short, but stunning cliff-top path from Ghajn Tuffieha Bay to Golden Bay. It’s our regular spring walk as it has amazing flowers budding up as well as great views. En route, we mulled over ‘how you can tell spring is round the corner in Malta’. Here’s our list of the obvious and the not so:

Everybody rediscovers the countryside.

There are more bikers on the road.

The first lizards emerge.

The cat’s tail starts to twitch more.

The new range of sunglasses shows up.

Tourists start going pink after minimal sun exposure.

You start seeking some shade when sitting out at cafes – but the shade is still a tad chill.

The lads in the ‘festa’ building are there more often renovating old decorations for the coming summer.

The green slime on limestone walls and stone floors starts to disappear.

It hasn’t rained for two weeks.

Lidl supermarket’s special offer days include gardening equipment – gloves, trellises and watering cans.

What’s left of the fields start to sparkle in yellow English weed and red poppies.

The Eurovision song contest is back on the agenda.

Heads peer down wells to determine water levels.

The cafes on the beach start getting repainted.

People start washing their cars.

Householders start inspecting peeling paint on doors and windows

Some people think about fasting for Lent.

The light is just beautiful. The sky is cobalt.

Low-cost airlines now offer more times and routes but seasonally adjust their fares.

Working parents realise there’s only one more full term before the long summer holiday, and start thinking of summer schools!

Spring hunting debates rumble.

This article is about centipedes. And while this isn’t that appealing a topic, it will have a familiar ring to anyone living in Malta, particularly during the rainy, humid months of autumn to late spring. If you live in an old, stone house with pot plants, a patch of soil or rubble walls around you, then the black centipede will be your house mate for the winter. I live with plagues, and I mean plagues, from October to around mid April, when the stone finally begins to dry out. Then, in peak summer months, I find (fewer) centipedes in the house – but they’ve worked out inside is far cooler and damper than out when it’s 40 degrees C plus. But right now, I dread venturing out on my back patio after dark to pick a herb I need in the cooking. The stone is simply seething with the things.

I am writing this post to illuminate anyone like me who hasn’t quite cured the problem of how to rid premises of them, and also to assuage the fears of any unsuspecting tourist who may find one in a rented property, or, dread of dreads, in a hotel room.

If you have close fitting windows and doors, you may rarely come across one. If you do, rest assured they are harmless, if rather ugly. Internet research reveals them to be the Black Portuguese Centipede, and the majority of references to them as ‘pests’ come from Australian sources. Apparently, the creature arrived as an unwanted guest aboard a ship in around 1950, and has now colonised most of Southern Australia. Hardly anyone in the Mediterranean has commented on them – I think we’re just so used to them.

I am sure my son has a kiddies’ story that has a nice, caricature-style drawing of a centipede in it. And there’s Roald Dahl’s ‘James & the Giant Peach’ centipede of course. But my slithering companions are not nice. Woe betide if you step on one. Quite apart from the massive crunch, they leave an indelible stain on the limestone floor, and give off a really ‘orrible pong’. I was in an upmarket interiors shop in Sliema earlier this year and smelled their unmistakable smell – I, or another client had just done the honour of stepping on one.

How to cull their numbers
Not easy this one, but a quick way to stem numbers and hatching is to make sure you sweep up regularly all leaf and organic debris littering your patio. They are herbivores and thrive in leaf mould and damp conditions. Lift pots up – incredibly they sneak under them very easily however tight the pot is to the ground. I found an Australian company that does a kind of frictionless compound that you can apply as a strip along under doors ledges and right along the wall for a few inches. I am not sure it’s available in Malta, but here’s the link. On my rugged stone, I’d need a good few pots to remove the friction those centipedes’ legs love to move on.

For an amusing – if that’s the right word – low down on these kritters, see an American in Malta’s story here.

Photo: Mohamed Dabub

Carnival is long-embedded in Maltese folklore. This weekend, you get the chance to experience two different types of carnivals. You can go to Valletta or Rabat, in Gozo, for the organised, structured floats and dance programmes. Or you can head to Nadur, in Gozo, for the ‘alternative’, spontaneous carnival, which kicks off on the 12th February, and draws to a close on the 16th.

Around 10 years ago, the Nadur carnival was a well-kept secret. A little gem of a carnival, its charm stemmed from the silence of masked crowds in the streets of the village. The game was about disguise: grotesque masks or badly-daubed make-up, wigs, costumes from sheets or sack cloth, makeshift, disorganised parades often accompanied by farm-stock and carts. In the general attempt to avoid being recognised, the carnival often became associated with the absurd and often the bizarre: cryptic placards, coded messages to friends and foes. A silent carnival, a veritable masked street ball.

Things change. As the event’s reputation grew online and by word of mouth, it became the carnival to go to for a new generation of Maltese, possibly bored with the traditional fare served in Valletta and attracted to the edginess of the Nadur festival. The new influx of visitors was also a shot in the arm for anyone in the Gozo tourism and hospitality sector in the winter shoulder months. From a purely ‘Nadur’ affair, the carnival has become a very Maltese occasion. This weekend, boatloads of young Maltese will cross for the annual pilgrimage of masked fun, or a vulgar, alcohol-fuelled rave party, depending on which side of the debate you happen to be.

And as for debates about the carnival, they have raged and ebbed over the past twelve months. Although the carnival has a history of revellers dressing up as priests or nuns, last year Malta’s Archbishop Paul Cremona and Gozo’s Bishop Marco Grech issued a statement about the need to ‘recognise and respect religious and civil rights’. As things stand, the law does not allow people to wear ‘any ecclesiastical habits or vestments’ without permission as this constitutes ‘offending public order’. Malta’s laws also prohibit the use of words or gestures that vilify the Roman Catholic Church.

Soon after last year’s carnival, a 26-year-old was given a one month jail term suspended for 18 months after he pleaded guilty to dressing up as Jesus Christ during the carnival celebrations. Six people who dressed as nuns were acquitted after the court found the simple fact of dressing up as a nun, even if at carnival time, did not, on its own, amount to vilification.

The public backlash was not long in coming. A Facebook group was set up to encourage people to dress up as Jesus at this year’s Nadur carnival – it currently has more than 600 members. Last week, the Sunday Times confirmed that the Nadur local council and police were requesting to vet the lyrics of rock bands playing at the carnival ‘to eliminate offensive or vulgar language’. The furious online backlash from bloggers and pundits forced the police to swiftly issue a statement retracting their request.

Comedy or tragedy? Malta’s own version of growing up pains, of old power systems slowly coming to terms with the sign of the times? You only have to scan the content of this site about the carnival to get a sense that change is irreversable, and not necessarily for the better.

Whichever way you look at it, the Nadur carnival hovers somewhere between the past and the future.

More on the carnival on the Nadur Council site, on Facebook and on Flickr.

Photo: Courtesy of OBS1

Malta has quietly been establishing itself as a medical tourism destination in recent years. The islands can claim a long and veritable history in medicine from the time of the Knights of St John to their role as ‘nurse of the Mediterranean’ in World War II.

Despite the Sterling-Euro exchange rate of the past year or so, Malta still seems to be attracting medical tourists. Its pull is not only its value-for-money, professional medical and dental treatment but also its climate, culture, English-speaking medical staff and relative ease of access from European cities.

For Britons, facing a lack of NHS dentists and exorbitant rates for ‘going private’, a trip here makes sense. For some, it’s almost a home from home. At the tail end of last year, journalist Jennifer Pulling joined them, taking the dental tourism trail to Gozo, Malta’s small sister island.

Here, she describes her ‘dental Odyssey’ on Calypso’s Isle.

It actually all began the Christmas before last. I wanted to escape the frantic shopping fest and plumped for Gozo. I basked in warm sunshine, sat in deserted village squares and discovered the mix of sacred and pagan in the island’s folk lore and myth. But even here I couldn’t escape the nagging anxiety about my teeth. As I walked across the salt pans on Christmas Day, I told myself I would not let another year pass without resolving it. I wasn’t sure how as I knew that I could never afford the verging on £20,000 my UK dentist was asking.

The answer came out of the blue. One evening, I opened the local Yellow Pages and looked up dentists. The following day I stood in a telephone box in Victoria making a call to a dental clinic. A few days later I flew home with all the literature.

Never one to make decisions swiftly, it took me almost a year to find the courage to go for it. In the meantime, the enormity of the problem and the lengths Brits go to solve it surprised me.

Some 70,000 Britons went outside the country for health care in 2007, a figure which was expected to rise to 200,000 by 2010. Out of a sample of 650 UK health tourists, savings on treatment cost accounted for 92% of the reasons for having treatment done abroad. 97% of medical tourists said they would ‘definitely go abroad for medical treatment again’. The ex-UK medical tourism market is currently worth £375 million. Dentistry is a particularly good example, due to the UK’s shortage of National Health dentists.

I’m a journalist who goes for research in a big way. The Google machine was both a blessing and a curse, taking up hours of my time as I ploughed through websites on dentistry abroad. The British Dental Association made gloomy reading as it only pointed out the pitfalls: number of visits required, qualifications and experience to check, and darkest of all, what does one do if things go wrong.

In my capacity as a journalist, I got the chance to check out a Bulgarian clinic, but the young age of the dentist there, and the clinic’s rather austere atmosphere despite its professional manner somewhat dissuaded me from taking that route. So I returned to Malta to combine a holiday with a trip to that Gozitan clinic. It was incredibly hot and the long bus journeys coupled with ferry crossings were exhausting. But from the moment I stepped into the practice I felt I had come home.

[eds. note: Jennifer was mid-way in her treatment writing this but was impressed with the care, attention to detail, time and professionalism she has received at the Gozitan clinic she chose.]

The confidence in knowing I am now on the road to correcting my teeth has over spilled into other areas. I have no qualms about returning to begin on the next phase, the implant procedure I need. In fact I can’t wait.

Perhaps I won’t have absolutely perfect teeth. There have been far too many years of my own and some UK dentists insouciance…..but I’ll be able to talk, laugh and eat with confidence. I have taken the step in time. I dipped into my savings and had the initiative to take myself to Gozo. What of those who can do neither and must suffer broken, painful and missing teeth for the rest of their lives?

I look back on that call I made from a Gozitan telephone box; it was one of the best things I’ve ever done.

Jennifer was treated at the Savina Dental Clinic, Gozo.

Photo: Therese Debono