A Scot in Malta

The first thing that struck me about Malta is how different it is to Scotland. Obviously with one country being in the Mediterranean and the other separating the North Sea from the Atlantic, it’s hardly surprising that a few things would differ.

Chiefly, the weather. Oh my sweet Lord, it has been hot since getting here. I mean, seriously hot. So hot that I think I lost weight by sweating. And the rain? As in the lack of rain? It has been the strangest summer I’ve ever experienced weather wise. At least back home, you always know that the season will eventually turn, and the rain will return as the leaves brown, but here? At some points it was like the rain clouds wouldn’t venture anywhere near this tiny island.

It has rained by the way, in fact we had some serious thunder, the like of which I’ve never seen. There’s a good photo in the Times of Malta (online at - http://www.timesofmalta.com/articles/view/20100910/local/thunderbolt-strikes-mistra ) check it out.

But back to the beginning. It’s so different here. I was sitting on a wall next to the bus stop in Sliema, across the road from British Home Stores, down the road from Next and just along from Marks and Spencers, contemplating a Burger King or Pizza Hut for lunch. As I thought of my gut, I reached for my Irn-Bru and started drinking it.

Seriously, it’s soo different here.

Actually, to tell you the truth, it is. There are a lot of the usual chains here, but loads of local shops – clothes, food, pretty much everything – kicking around. There’s a lot of similarities between here and Britain, probably because Malta was a British colony up until the late 1960’s. The sheer number of British people living here is astounding in itself – agreed, I’m one of them. But sure enough, communication isn’t a problem for us Brits, because English is the second language here (Maltese is first) and pretty much everyone speaks it.

But no matter how much it looks like home from where I was sitting, I just had to turn around for a sharp reminder of where I really was. The photo below wasn’t taken on that day, but from roughly the same place. Across the azure waters lies Valletta, which is the capitol. It’s just a wee bit bigger than my home village (no joke), but it sure as heck stands out

From Foreign Scot