Across Continents

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Memories of Malta

I hoped Philip was impressed with my knowledge of Malta. How I’d been intrigued by how most things were written in English, signs and such like, yet what you mostly heard spoken was Maltese, a blend of mostly Arabic and Italian. He’d emigrated to Australia years earlier, but still kept his accent.

The day was a struggle. I’d barely managed fifteen miles before I needed to stop. Needing a strong coffee to stay suitably alert on the highway, to avoid the frequent coal trucks. A short tea stop along the way hadn’t made much difference. Eventually finding a small florist cum cafe in Appin. Run by Phillip and his wife.




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