POV You`re finally in Malta
Being single at twenty-nine is honestly a blessing. How else would I be able to hop from plane to plane just because I’ve managed to get two weeks off and my soul is begging for adventure more desperately than it will ever beg for a mortgage? So, barely a day after returning from my Fuerteventura Naked Experience, there I was again: waking up at 3 a.m., dragging my half-asleep self to the airport, boarding yet another flight.
Malta was something I’ll never forget. I didn’t go with huge expectations, but the island surprised me in the best way. I stayed in a hostel in St. Julian’s, which turned out to be the perfect base for day trips. The buses in Malta can be unreliable, especially during the busy season, but I only had two issues during my stay.
If you ever go, you need to book the boat trip to Gozo Island and the Blue Lagoon. No hesitation. I don’t think I’ve ever seen water that turquoise in my entire life. It felt unreal.
Even though Gozo and the Blue Lagoon had me completely stranded, I couldn’t stop thinking about the streets of Valletta, Rabat, and Mdina. The moment I stepped off the bus in Rabat, I was greeted by a huge, dramatic rainfall that came out of nowhere. I ended up hiding in a tiny café with a view of the cathedral, watching people gather for what looked like a final goodbye to someone they loved. It was strangely intimate, like I had accidentally stepped into someone else’s quiet heartbreak, while I was still in mine.
When the rain finally calmed down, I headed back out into the streets, which were lined with what I can only describe as intense Jesus marketing. Crosses, Baby Jesus statues, shrines, churches on every corner. It felt like the entire town was gently pushing me toward Mdina, the Silent City.
And honestly, Mdina did something to me. The atmosphere was so hauntingly beautiful that I surprised myself by walking into one of the churches and praying for the first time in almost a decade. I’m not religious at all, and if anything, Buddhism makes the most sense to me these days. But somewhere deep inside, the little Catholic girl I used to be needed to speak to the version of God she knew when she was small.
After this rather religious afternoon, it was time for some nature again. I headed to Golden Bay, which was almost completely empty. The water was so cold I could barely get in, but I could immediately see why it becomes packed in the summer. The sand is soft, the beach is wide and open, and it really is beautiful. For me personally though, it felt a bit too commercial, like the kind of place that’s perfect for families and sunbeds but not exactly my style.
What I actually preferred was a secluded beach tucked between green hills, the kind of place that looks like a tiny paradise someone just forgot to gatekeep. It took a bit more effort to get there, but it was worth every step. And for obvious reasons, I’m not sharing the exact location. Some places shouldn’t go viral. They need to be kept safe from mass tourism and hunters for selfies.
