Photo Essay by Christopher Ludgate
All to myself in the morning light of Gozo, I drifted through the tiny fortified alleys of Iċ-Ċittadella, hugged by lofty limestone ubiquitous in Malta’s architecture. Standing on a foundation more than 3000 years old, I ran my fingers along the fortress’s soft, porous stone, caressing the white specks of seashells embedded for millennia.
Climbing to the peak of this Citadel, perched above the orchards and clustered homes of rural Ir-Rabat, the majestic panorama emanated the tranquillity of a remote, quiet life. Often favoured by its alternative British name, Victoria, the landscape of Ir-Rabat stretched beyond the knolls of rare fauna, cascading out into the Mediterranean Sea. Sicily’s coast was a faint impression in the distance.
The past is written on the walls of this marvel of ancient history, showing erosions of time. Craft shops appeared along the winding mazes. At shadowy intersections, I imagined the many incarnations of the fortified castle as if time stood still. A museum is nestled beyond the Citadel’s Cathedral, where The Temple of Juno once stood, whispering tales of antiquity about this coveted ground.
Once upon a time, at the crossroads of the world…
Taste of Gozo
My craving for substance and meaning was satiated for the moment so I wandered down by pedestrian-friendly Independence Square, ogling its charms, barely resisting the temptations of consumer tourism. The elderly cheesemongers welcomed me in with Chef George Zammat of the local Maldonado Bistro, accompanying me on an exploration of Gozo gastronomy.
My cooking lesson had already begun with a class about Ġbejna, the Maltese cheese balls made from local sheep or goat’s milk set in traditional moulds; some tangy, some cured, and if you dare, coated with black pepper. The go-to street food is a pastry called pastizzi made with Ġbejna, if not with ricotta and other savoury ingredients. Although the latter are delicious, they are not traditional, insisted Zammat.
Up in Chef’s kitchen, I donned my apron, and I got my hands into creating four of Malta’s time-honoured dishes, including Pastizzi, Ftira (a pizza tart), and a popular bean dip called Bigilla. Much like honey, abundant here in the country’s apiaries, nougat is among the local Mediterranean mélange. So I mastered Qubbajt while tucked away in Zammat’s Bistro, a popular spot for traditional eats and cooking classes.
Another Gozo favourite is Qaqħaq tal-Għasel, a Christmas favourite I tried after visiting St. Paul’s Catacombs. The pastry rings have a soft filling of treacle with orange peel, honey, and spices. Maltese eggs with garlic and hearty bread are big here, too.
As sunset neared, I climbed into a boat and headed to Camino to see the impossibly blue lagoon. Wrapped up in fascination with this mere speck on a map, I could see its allure for seafarers and journeymen through time. I drifted alongside the towering Ta’ Cenc Cliffs. The marble-blue sea misted my lips and cradled my boat before I went full-throttle into the Crystal Lagoon.
The three islands of Malta are accessible via ferry systems, including the Gozo Express from the bustling marina of Valletta. Once at Gozo’s port of Mgarr, a variety of transportation options are available.
Xara Gardens and The Silent City
Just outside The Silent City, in the fields of Xara Gardens, I met Michelin-starred Executive Chef of De Mondion, Clint Grech. It isn’t every day that one can hand-pick ingredients for a masterful gastronomic experience created by a chef of this calibre.
Xara Gardens is an extension of The Xara Palace, a baroque palazzo tucked deep inside the fortified city of Mdina, aka The Silent City of Malta. De Mondion Restaurant sits atop Xara Palace, offering stellar panoramic views.
The fragrant oils of green herbs lingered on my fingertips after brushing the lush crops. The earthy acid scent of tomatoes mingled with the vibrant green onions wafting from the harvest of nature’s pantry. The farm hands applied a rinse from the free-flowing freshwater irrigation.
Chef Clint’s orange-centric dessert permeated my senses with its bright sweetness, resulting in the satiating ovation of a beautiful meal.
I felt a sense of romance emanating with unassuming mystery in the fortified nooks of Mdina, also known as The Silent City. Its winding historic roads are paved with layers of history and a time capsule of tales. I observed a gesture of quiet, mesmerized by this living museum that time bestowed upon us.
From the Phoenicians to the Arabs, together with Romans and infamous Orders of Knights, plus St. Paul the Apostle with Napoleon, and possibly even Giants leaving pieces of themselves behind in the unique interwoven fabric of culture in Malta.
Perhaps its most intriguing result is in the Maltese language, a native tongue that blends Italian with Arabic, remnants of French, and pieces of Spanish, resulting in an unusual blend of Semitic and Romance languages. I listened in the Silent City as the whispers passed by.
The New Me In Malta
Looking out from my wrap-around balcony high in the striking new Mercury Tower, I saw the harbour of St. Julian’s. In the distance, the distinct dome of St. John’s Cathedral sprouted up from the lively capital of Valletta. I heard the thunder sounding like the daily ceremonious canons down at Barakka Gardens.
Recovering from my long journey in my art-forward deluxe suite at the new ME Hotel by Meliá, I drank in the view, wrapped up in pristine linens, bathed in the tranquil beiges and whites in an open floor plan suite, soothing and chic. I browsed the elaborate menu, anticipating a perfect spa day as the storm drifted in.
Greeted warmly into ethereal facilities, I soon surrendered, decompressing in steams, rehydrating with tea, and breathing in the cedar-scented salty air. A carved entrance lured me into a sexy pool grotto where I explored its fountains, massaging jets, and just floated.
The lights of Valetta glowed beneath the stars. I heard a sweet guitar serenade wafting through the night air like a beautiful lull. I watched ships fade away and I relished in the moment of joy, detached from the world outside.
In Ġgantija
Standing inside the megalithic complex of Ġgantija, I was immersed in mysteries beyond Stonehenge and the Pyramids of Giza. The crumbling Neolithic structure is one of Earth’s oldest. The name Ġgantija means ‘the place of the giants,’ and so the legends go. Other Megalithic structures here, like the Tarxien Temples, suggest strategic placement and worship of the stars.
Along the planks inside the archaeological wonder, I pieced together its remains in my head, imagining what it once was. Scholars suggest ceremonial practices with blood and bones, while excavated figurines suggest devoted fertility worship. The otherness resonated on my fingertips, leaving me with more questions than I arrived with.
As we drove on the sparsely trafficked roads, I searched for the mysterious cart rut tracks, like the ones in southern Malta’s Siġġiewi. The salt pans along the shore of Xwejni Bay were meticulous in their network of pools below. The tradition of salt harvesting here has existed for generations. The views into the blue yonder reminded me again of how far away the world felt.
Archaeology docents can be booked via VisitMalta.com
Christopher Ludgate is a writer, photographer, and award-winning filmmaker. With tailor-made itineraries beyond the ordinary, his travel stories combine culture, wellness, the outdoors, luxury, and history. He’s a longtime advocate for holistic health and animal rights as well as an avid gardener, cook, and cat dad.