Normally Simon writes the majority of blog posts with some input from me but today was one of the rare occasions when I felt like I needed to get some words out. Those pesky words…
One of my favourite beaches on Malta is not one of the pretty ones that you can swim at. Instead there are warning signs stating that it is unsafe to do so. There are no level areas to stretch out in a cat-like langour, instead there are miniature caverns, caves, and pools carved out by the relentless and oh so patient waters of the Mediterranean.
This evening I found a higher rock that was shaped almost like a recliner to claim as my own and Ben and I made ourselves as comfortable as we could considering there were no plush cushions, just the sun-warmed stones. I settled in with my book that is taking far longer than usual to read…not because it is boring but because I’m savouring it, making it last. There was a line in it about the town of Argos in Greece and how a toaster wasn’t needed anyway which made me chuckle because only someone who has lived in the UK would understand it. Yes, I’m homesick for England. It’s not my native country but it has become my home and where my soul longs for. However my heart is with Simon and Malta is where we are and it is a fascinating place. Every moment we are here there is something new that is actually very old to discover and we constantly are saying wow. Not very profound I know but it is usually the first word out of our mouths.
Anyway, back to the beach…every evening as the daylight starts to ebb the sea transforms into a highway of sorts as the boats start making their way to their ports. There is a steady stream of them, the graceful sailboats, the sleek speedboats growling along, the smaller yachts with their prows (is that the right word, will have to look it up later) jutting out of the water quite proudly–these always remind me of swordfish for some reason–the random jet ski skipping over the waves creating more wake, and the industrious fishing boats. It’s quite calming gazing at them and also watching the sea rise up almost in a wall on the horizon while the waves lap at the shore carving even more channels. Occasionally you will notice a head bob up out of the water closer to the shore as a swimmer breaks their smooth strokes to make sure they are where they are meant to be.
Ben cuddles even closer into me while the sun drops further behind the hill and as the rats start to make their way out of their daytime dens to hunt for scaps and fish we know it’s time to leave our ‘chair’ and return to Simon and Elsie.
It’s not the most beautiful of beaches but it suits us.