With several people applauding Malta’s capital when they knew we were flying to the island, we were eager to encounter the city. For convenience and to save time, Mr Word Loft and I decided to travel from our hotel in Buġibba by taxi; the fare was reasonably priced, too.

The Uber driver dropped us off at our first pre-planned spot, Fort St Elmo and the National War Museum. We entered through the Relief Gateway, which was important during the great siege of 1565. Today, it is guarded by a sculpture of Medieval Warrior Knights, commemorating the Knights of St John, the military order that protected Malta in those days.

Integrated within the fortification’s honey coloured limestone boundary is St Anne’s Chapel, which was already established by 1488. The curved ceiling is impressive, and the wall carvings are beautiful. It was so peaceful that we stayed for a few minutes to reflect before going outside and up a walkway, where the vista spans from the city skyline to the sea.

I’m writing a novel set in World War II. As a result, the museum housed in the Vendome Bastion was of great interest. I made notes and took plenty of photographs of exhibits as research. I hadn’t realised what a significant and positive role Malta played during this period. In a prime position is a display of the George Cross awarded to the country in 1942 in recognition of the Maltese people’s bravery during incessant and prolonged attacks. It was the most bombed nation in the world.

There were numerous attractions on our ‘to visit list’, so after a couple of hours, we headed off to the centre, revelling in streets brimming with baroque architecture. Many of the windows have enclosed wooden balconies, brightly painted in red or green. We dallied in charming cafes and browsed shops where we couldn’t decide what to buy our grandson. A St John’s Knight figurine, or a soft toy with Malta embroidered across its chest? In the end, we opted for a cute little husky dog, not very traditional, but less fragile and easier to pack.

We explored the neighbourhood where the poet Sam Taylor Coleridge had lived and worked between 1804 and 1805. I was alerted to his connection with the location when I noticed a marble plaque bearing his name affixed to the wall of a grand establishment on Valletta’s main thoroughfare, Republic Street.

Stepped lanes lead in all directions. There are crenellated arches by the harbour, clock towers, theatres and gardens. Not to be missed; St Paul’s Cathedral’s splendour with its neoclassical spire and columned portico.

I was filled with admiration, and on my return home, my mother told me that Valletta was her favourite holiday destination. She spoke fondly of it, and we shared our experiences from different decades. Valletta will be forever special in my heart, knowing we both loved it and recalling our lengthy conversations about the place where past and present entwine in every way.

Until my next blog post,
Best wishes,
Sue. X