Malta - Day Two - Part One

St. Paul's Shipwreck Church (far left)

I get up early, hungry for the rest of those date pastries from last night.  The tea is delicious and strong.  You can tell the Brits were here.  Electric tea kettles and good tea.

       It’s off to see St. Paul’s hand at St. Paul’s Shipwreck Church.  The story, told by St. Luke, is that St. Paul was being taken in chains to Rome to be tried when his ship went up on the reefs off Malta.  He spent three months there that somehow marked the people so much that now what is purported to be his wristbone is enshrined in this church (thus the name).  My curiosity is aroused . But Mass is already being said when I arrive.  Although I’m not Roman Catholic, I remember hearing Mass said in Latin when I was young, before the Second Vatican Council decreed in 1964 it should be celebrated in the language of the country.  Which here means Maltese, that strange hodge-podge of Phoenician, Arab, Italian, English and who knows what else.  So I sit a bit, off to the side, and listen to the strangeness of it.

Queen Victoria, in front of National Library

After that, it’s an easy swing past the statue of Queen Victoria and on to the 16th century Palace of the Grand Masters, to see if it’s open on a holiday (which today is)... and so early.  I’m the first visitor, but no prize for that. Visitors start by touring some of the Royal Apartments, but not all because these are also the offices of the President of the Republic of Malta.  

       Sumptuous doesn’t even begin to do it justice.  It’s on a par with the Co-Cathedral, which is logical.  After all, the Grand Masters commissioned the construction and decoration of both. And both are stoic from the outside, but opulent inside.  Gilt, brocade, crystal chandeliers, marble floors with mosaic escutcheons, armor-lined hallways, timbered coffer ceilings, massive painted beams, tapestries from the Gobelin factory in Paris, a plethora of friezes of the Knights’ famous battles... a real history lesson, if you know what you’re looking at.  The State Dining Hall is open to the public, along with the Grand Council Chamber, Supreme Council Chamber and finally the State Room, where envoys sent to Malta used to present their credentials to the Grand Masters... as ambassadors still do today, only now to the President of the Republic.

       Then on to the Armory, Malta’s first public museum, which is natural for their warrior tradition, I guess.  It’s now located in what was once the Palace stables because the actual Armory has become the House of Representatives.  Governing wins out over fighting?  The museum has thousands of weapons and armor dating from the 15th century until the Order left Malta in the late 18th century:  swords, firearms, crossbows, pole axes... I’m quite a pacifist at heart so only the armor interests me, from a craftsman standpoint.  But one detail amazes me: two weights with a rope through them so you can lift them.  One weighs 2½ kg (5½ lb), the weight of a warrior’s helmet.  It’s hard to lift. Then I try the other:  10 kg (22 lb) and I can’t even lift it with one hand.  That was the weight of an iron hat, smaller than the helmet but four times the weight.  I can’t even imagine having to put that on your head, much less fight while wearing it!  No wonder the men were so short!!

Enough of war.  Across from the Palace is what used to be a parking lot but has been transformed into the large St. George’s Square with benches to sit in the sun, a luxury in February.  Back in Paris, I’d be in a winter coat but here all you need is a light jacket, at least during the day.  As I sit and enjoy the warmth, the guards snap into action in front of the Palace.  They  run through their paces, marching back and forth between the two guardposts, then back into faction, their bayonetted guns snapped sharply from shoulder to side as they take up their silent, frozen stance at their posts.

President's Palace

As I start to walk away from the President’s Palace, I notice a plaque on the wall.  It’s a quote from President Franklin Roosevelt, praising Malta for its strength and resistance during World War II, citing the island’s “valorous service far above and beyond the call of duty”.  One line sums up the plight of this tiny place as the Reich spread over the rest of Europe and into North Africa: “Under repeated fire from the skies, Malta stood alone but unafraid in the center of the sea, one tiny bright flame in the darkness - a beacon of hope for the clearer days which have come.”  The quote is dated Dec. 5th, 1943.  I find Roosevelt very optimistic about clearer days having come by then, but although it wasn’t true yet for the rest of Europe, the dangers for Malta were already over by then, with the capitulation of the Afrika Korps and the retaking of Sicily.  Safe now on either side.  But rebuilding from the almost total destruction would have to wait.
       What can’t wait though is Josephine.  She’ll be picking me up at the hotel at 11:30 to take me out to discover something besides Valetta.

(to be continued)