Trip Report
We had been packed for about a week when the car came to spare us driving to JFK for our trip to Malta and a cruise around Sicily on board the legendary SEA CLOUD II.
At JFK, we boarded Lufthansa and they fed us. “They fed us” was as much a leitmotif on this trip to Malta and circumnavigating Sicily as the Ring is in Wagner. Early riser's breakfast. Full breakfast. Snacks. Lunch. Tea. Reception. Dinner. Late-night snack. We were sea-going hobbits.
I managed to lower my seat into a pallet and actually slept through the flight until we got to Frankfort. FRA is a monster airport. We landed in Area A and had to keep on going and going and going. They had those cute little carts, but they were all going in the wrong directions and didn't have instructions. Oh well. The airport also had slidewalks and the roads must roll. We grabbed them.
When we reached our gate, we found that it had been changed. No, Venice is wonderful, but we wanted to go to Valletta. Two gates later, we were bused to the plane because the airport bridge was flooched. Once on board, we found they had moved my seat because it was allegedly broken. The man who had it said it was NOT broken and came over and offered to trade.
And then we landed in Valletta. Merhaba, you all. A driver was picking up a number of us from the tour who were getting in on that flight. After he checked his computer a number of times, he led us out of the airport and into the HEAT. Valletta, named after the Knight of Malta who, after age 70, commanded during the Great Siege, has palm trees. Even the avenues of big palm trees were wilting in July-level heat. The Maltese, who speak a Semitic language as well as English, were withering too. We were dropped tenderly off at the Hotel Excelsior, which is a sort of reverse ziggurat (rooms are DOWNSTAIRS) and our baggage conveyed up to a big, cool room. After flaking out, we made our way down to one of the lounges for check-in, orientation, and something to drink.
We had chosen to extend our trip by coming in early. So, starting June 14, we had about three or four full days in Malta. This is not enough. In the heat, throughout the trip, FOMO (fear of missing out) battled with FOPO (fear of passing out). We did admirably and didn't pass out once.
The tour group – mostly academic institutions – had a reception for the group of us who came in early. There was a group that came in even earlier, but they were hardy, experienced travelers prowling on their own, so we missed them for awhile.
We Arrive in Malta
We were met by Leslie and the Clipboard that accompanied her every waking moment, like an Australian sheepdog. After the first of many, many briefings, we met Laetitia La Follette, the Acheological Institute of America scholarly leader, who told us fascinating things about the Neolithic temples that are the oldest freestanding structures in the world. UNESCO sites all, we were to see as many as we could hold up under, both on Malta and on the neighboring island of Gozo. We listened, gulped Prosecco and enjoyed an Asian buffet. Contrary to my worst impulses, I did NOT strike the meter-wide bronze dinner gong.
It's a wonder that the temples, which started to go up somewhere around 5000 BC if not earlier, survived Malta's two great sieges, the first one against the Ottomans in the sixteenth century, and the second during WWII, during which the “island fortress” of Malta was more heavily bombed and sparsely fed than many places in Europe. It was awarded the George Cross by George VI. (And yes, I heard Verdi in my mind. Don Carlo.)
According to Laetitia, the temple culture reached its height and then, within a century, were abandoned. They are older than Skara Brae in the Orkneys, Stonehenge in England, Jericho in the Middle East, and the Pyramids in Egypt. They are also older than the ancient Turkish cities.
The Nuraghe we saw on Sardinia are also newer, though they employ some of the same construction methods. They're bronze age. Laetitia and FB's own Sabina Magliocco, who just led an expedition to Sardinia, exchanged messages with me live and via DM to clarify this.
Before we visited the Temples, with their immense stones, we saw the huge fortifications that Captain Jack Aubrey would have seen in Patrick O'Brian's TREASON'S HARBOR. Massive, glowing, formidable. Hard to think that Jean de Vallette (after whom Malta's capital was named when it shifted from the silent city of Mdina) withstood an attack by the Turks when he was 70 and the Knights of Malta, kicked off their previous home by the Ottomans, held out this time until they were reinforced.
Everyone seems to come to Malta, from the Temple culture, to the Phoenicians, the Greeks, the Carthaginians, the Romans, medieval Christians (western, Norman and Byzanine) and Arabs on Jihad. St. Paul was washed up on the island. Nelson came through, as did Prince Philip. Many Jewish people lived on Malta, until the Expulsion of 1492, when Malta, under the rule of Spain, had to expel its Jews too. The memories remain.
Touring on Malta
We were split into three groups: Archeology, Museums, and Militaria. So, on June 15, after another lecture and time line by Letitia, our group (Archeological) headed off to Hagar Qim, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Malta has many world heritage sites. It is layered with history and archeology.
It was also unbelievably hot, almost 20 degrees hotter than we were told. Tee shirts. Hats. Sunscreen. Bottled water. Umbrellas despite shade from withered palm trees. Malta is sere, amidst the blue waters of the Mediterranean. Hagar Qim was followed by Mnaedra if you had the stamina for it. It is domed by a canvas roof to protect the ancient rocks.
From the megaliths, we went to the harbor at Marsaxlokk for lunch on the water. Malta's name comes into play here. It could be from a version of the word for honey (mel) or the word for Harbor, like Marsa or something similar. We had a couple hours to cool down before we entered one of the many buses that characterized the trip (air conditioned and equipped with water bottles) and made our way to Mdina, the ancient capital. Called the Silent City, it is walled and combines Arab, Western medieval, and baroque architecture. We reached it in time to see the sunset from the walls. The lamps came on and we saw the old palaces, whose walls face inward toward courtyards and foundtains. I learned that part of GAME OF THRONES was filmed here – the gate at King's Crossing and some lanes down which I rang an imaginary bell and called out “shame, shame.” We had dinner in the courtyard of a palazzo turned restaurant, prowled the city, and headed back.
The next day, we took the ferry to Gozo, one of Malta's smaller islands, where we were to visit Ggantija, another prehistoric temple site. Then, we went to Victoria, the main city, where we saw cats and the Citadel and salt pans, which produced a valuable natural resource. Then, we returned to Valletta and welcomed our companions for the coming tour at another reception. It was too hot even for G&Ts. The big thing in the group seemed to be Aperol Spritzers. Either here or on board later, we ran into a woman who remembered us from Glimmerglass, where she's on the Board. They may need a writer volunteer.
All of Valletta is a World Heritage site, and we saw not nearly enough. The Archeology group visited Tarxien, a group of temples dating from 3150 to 2500 BC, and continued to the Hypogeum cut into the rock and memorializing the dead. Because of the delicacy of its painted ochre spirals, only 10 people can visit it at once. Tickets were being issued last week for July 27. We had four entry times. The place is awesome, quiet, and a little scary. Think the Paths of the Dead in LORD OF THE RINGS.
The Military group visited the Lascaris War Rooms and Fort St. Elmo and the National War Museums. Group C, led by Yale's Elihu Rubin, explored Valletta, its gardens, the redesigned Grand Harbor, and the CoCathedral where two at least of Caravaggio's major paintings reside. I'd have loved to see them, but the Hypogeum is underground and cool and weird. This group wound up at a private palazzo.
Boarding Sea Cloud
Tours were followed by lunch and lunch by departure from the hotel and onto SEA CLOUD II. Past the formal velvet ropes and ritual potted palms and up the gangplank we went, to be greeted by all the officers not standing watch in dress whites. The stewards handed us cold, lemon-scented towels and flutes of champagne. Roland recognized us from last year and grinned.
Then, we were escorted to our cabins. We had the one we had last year when Russ and I went to Sardinia and Corsica after a trip to Rome. Champagne, fruit, and chocolates were waiting for us. A card from the captain was on the mantel, welcoming us back to the ship.It was good to be back. This is the ship we took last year when Russ and I went to Sardinia and Corsica.We settled in, changed, and had – you guessed it – another reception with a buffet and a lecture by Laetitia because the others had missed her first talk.
Setting Sail
Then, the ship set off for Sicily. SEA CLOUD II, second of her name, holds about 90 people. We had 70, mostly from Yale, although three other groups from Princeton, the AIA and National Trust joined us with their bear leaders. While at sea, Wendy Hiller lectured on Sicily on the operatic stage, and Mascagni's Cavalleria Rusticana. Having heard her last year, we were delighted to see her again and talk to her – but mostly to listen. As things turned out, there were a LOT of people on board who loved opera, including Princeton's group leader, Amanda, a lyric soprano. RUMINT was that one of the Met's Board of Directors was on board. I didn't know how to get an introduction and didn't try.
We had lunch on board, watched the deckhands climb 180 feet up the mainmast and set sail. Laetitia again spoke, this time on the archeological wonders we would see in Sicily. Dinner was casual, on the Lido Deck, ample, and delicious.
Breakfast was amazing, from the omelet station to the areas for German breakfasts, English breakfasts, cold cuts, and caviar, and mimosas for anyone who wanted them at 7 a.m. The presence of caviar reminded me of the commercials, I think involving job hunting and careerbuilder.com, in which Lassie decides to get a new job, is hired, and is told by a Zsa Zsa Gabor clone, “Lassie, eat your eaviar.” Good doggie! We saw many good dogs aside from the mastiff in the bathroom at Segesta: tiny white Malteses, other pocketbook dogs, a playful German shipherd, a very uncomfortable huskie, and an Akita that was having an attack of the stubborns.
Once Sea Cloud pulled out of the Grand Harbor, we spent the day at sea. I had a facial and a massage. To be tended while the ship rocks beneath you is one of the most incredible experiences. I purred for the rest of the day and throughout dinner. Natalya, the esthetician, was kept very busy.
We sailed through the night and landed at Trapani, in Sicily, where we visited the Temple of Segesta, It was splendid despite the heat and the scirocco, which brought dust from the Sahara across the Mediterranean to give all of us sinus problems. Others of the group went to a hill-town, Erice. There were some casualties. The rock is slippery, and one woman from the Princeton group caught her walking sandals on some slippery cobblestone and faceplanted. After a fight with Italian hospital gatekeepers, she and her husband rejoined the trip the next day. Bravo.
That afternoon, Russell and I were among the people who headed to Marsala, founded by Carthaginians in 397 BC and renamed Mars-el-Allah by the Arabs. We visited the oldest winery in the region to taste its Marsala and learn about the influential Florio family. Marsala is much more complex than the stuff they pour over veal and 'shrooms. There was a wonderful tasting, in which we learned that Marsala is not a dessert wine and how it is made, stored, and blended. We bought some and had a tough time getting it back home. Casks were immense, and the colors of the wine differed according to age and quality. Very interesting explanations of terroir in the distillery or whatever itself.
We were taken back to SEA CLOUD II, handed cold towels and cold juice, and had a late lunch. Then Elihu Rubin, an associate professor of urban architecture, spoke on Architecture, Urbanism and Empire at the Crossroads of Western Civilization. This discipline is new to me, but he is animated, hugely intelligent, and very interesting as we learned how complex public and private spaces can be analyzed. Dinner was on board. The cruise continued.
I ran into a couple of classicists who remembered Professor Finley at Harvard and were delighted I had been one of his teaching fellows.
The captain held a reception for us all, and we ate at the Yale table. Russ had a bulldog necktie. One of the classicists (also a retired oncologist) had a bulldog bowtie. No one was particularly formal otherwise, escept the service of a five-course dinner. I now know when the sorbet course is served.
Dinner was followed by collapse, followed by another Mother Goddess of all breakfast buffets during which staff hovered and carried things for us because we needed to keep one hand for the ship at all times.
Palermo
By the time we reached Monreale and Palermo, the scirocco had done me in. I spent the day on board tending to business. I am convinced that when guides say a “nice walking tour” or a “beautiful walking tour,” it means you're gonna die. The erudite guards are tremendously knowledgeable, very amiable, and completely ruthless in herding you from place to place. I think the only people who didn't want to flake out at some point was a lovely 14-year-old girl and her Tiger Mom.
Monreale is a twelfth-century cathedral that shows some of Norman architecture's greatest features. Russ et al. Went to the Royal Chapel and had lunch in town. The groups went to the Abatellis Art Gallery, where Russ raved about a remarkably stark Annunciation; to the Salinas Archeological Museum, the Puppet Museum, and the Opera House.
Then, we cast off for Lipari.
Lipari and the Aeolian Islands
We anchored offshore and had to take the tender in to a volcanic island whose history dates back 7000 years. One group did a nice walking tour of the Aeolian Archeological Museum. We took a scenic driving tour of Lipari's parimeter and views of the other Aeolian Islands, with reference to Aeolus, king of the winds, and Odysseus. One of the islands is called Vulcano, for obvious reasons. We were heading into volcano territory. We saw pumice stone quarries and obsidian streams. Then, back to the ship for towels, juice, and Wendy Heller's lecture on Listening to the Myths of Sicily. If you were brought up, as I was on Edith Hamilton's MYTHOLOGIES, this was a pure joy.
I should say something about our companions, crew, and the ship. Of the three Sea Cloud trips we have taken, this was the most congenial. Even the crew loved us. Gifts were always appearing in our cabin from the tour management, and the rooms were beautifully maintained. Nicolae at the piano found out our favorites. Russ and I like what we call “Vic music,” from DS9's Vic Fontaine. He would play “The Way You Look Tonight,” and we'd sniffle – or maybe it was the scirocco.
What we also noted were a great number of Jewish people who gravitated toward one another. One man, a psychiatrist, looked like Sarek. He and his wife bantered constantly and groused and kvetched, but when she got shaky on the tender (Tenders are tricky to step across the water gap and into and rather bouncy), he held her hand. He tucked jackets about her. We all rather smiled at one another and appreciated how the Med Basin historical signage included where a Jewish quarter had been, when they had been forced out, and why, and how Taormina had fought to keep them – just another group of people who added to the richness of these islands' culture.
The ship's crew is polyglot and astonishingly friendly and helpful. The ship itself is glorious, full of teak and brass and people who tend it. The captains, a man and a woman, are rather shy. Insa, who kind of ran us with the tour's managers, could not have been kinder or friendlier. It's very simple. They tell us what to do on board. We do it. They feed us and give us champagne or the ship's private gin. We are happy.
Taormina
We sailed all night. It was rather rocky, but we managed. In the morning, some of us went up seven flights of ELEVATOR-thank-God to Taormina, another hill town with a wonderful market and shops and cafes. It also had a Greek theatre baking out in the bright sun.
Intrepid people joined a group that took a bus to the foot of Mt. Etna, then ascended by cable car to 7900 feet and took four by four vehicles to about 10,000 feet to see incredible views as well as fumaroles. One man had chest pains – nice guy, too – and was medevaced out.
The Taormina segment did something spectacularly right. It included ways to leave the beautiful walking tour at 12:30, later in the afternoon, or in the evening. Some people took cabs back.
Taormina is chic, colorful, and lovely, with spectacular views and a granita di caffe that isn't to die for but that may bring you back from sunstroke.
Back on board, Elihu Rubin spoke on Sicilian space, the making of cities, and the public realm in Palermo, Syracuse, and elsewhere.
Dinner. We ate, either that night or the next, with two opera production types from Canada and talked about Regietheatre.
Then, we set sail for Syracuse.
Syracuse
The classicists were talking about Verres, a thieving governor of Sicily. I had translated one of Cicero's three orations against him in Latin III in high school. We all cracked up.
Another UNESCO site, Sicily was founded in 743 BC by Greek Corinthians, conquered and ruled by Romans, Muslims, Normans, and Ottomans. It was the site of a terrible disaster for Athens. I am told, or I was told in Professor Finley's lectures, that after the Syracuse disaster, Euripides wrote THE TROJAN WOMEN about another atrocity. The Syracusans, watching it, were able to weep.
The city has a Greek theatre and a Roman amphitheatre. The theatre is far too close to the quarry that also served as a prison for Athenian captives. It features the so-called Ear of Dionysus, which a paranoid ruler is said to have used as a sort of whisper gallery.
Our guide was elegantly educated and indefatigable. “We'll take a break,” she'd say. The minute we caught up to her, she was off again to the next sight. Constantly. In the heat. What she had to say was wonderful, but she was addicted to her stopwatch.
Something needs to be done about that. This is a vacation, not an endurance test, and we might like to find a bathroom or a gelato or even a shop.
This guide did, however, lead us into the Ear, where Amanda from Princeton sang. The acoustics were astonishing. We walked past a sculpure garden and prowled the City. Then, we got onto the bus. Those who wanted to could get off at the port and return to the ship. The others went on to At some point – can't remember when, I went back to the ship with a few others, while the intrepid remnants crossed to Ortygia and a tour of Il Barone Beneventano's palazzo. While he talked about his family, the guests eyed the refreshment table, and on he talked. Finally, they fed and watered the guests, some of whom remained, while others found cabs back to the port.
That night, we put on our finery for the captain's farewell reception, as much champagne and caviar as we could get outside of, and a delicious surf-and-turf dinner as the ship headed back to Valletta. We had a lovely time with two people from NJ. Their name was Roddenbery, so, after spending the entire cruise chatting happily, I commented, “you know, if you had another 'r' in your name, I'd ask if you were related to the California Roddenberry family.” Cousins. They told us how a young woman of color made the same discovery, found out that they'd be at the same conference, and she stayed up all night embroidering a sampler that said “thank you.” We all sniffled.
We returned to Malta via the Grand Port with its immense old fortifications and some new ones – from GLADIATOR II, which is being filmed here.
Once in harbor, we were assigned colors to indicate which group we would be part of when we disembarked. When purple ribbons were handed out, Russ and I cracked up, thinking of Purple and Green Drazi. From then on, we referred to any Fuss as a Drazi fight. There were no Drazi fights related to SEA CLOUD. But there were many Drazi fights in the airport, where we were asked for a whole lot more information than we were used to providing.
Once boarded, however, we napped until we had to get off in Frankfurt. This time, things went nicely. The plane we were assigned had a rainbow on it and was called a LOVEHANSA plane. That was sweet. Our seats were comfortable. We were fed two dinners in the eight-hour fight. The first one had appetizers, a cold beef hors d'oeuvre, and halibut. I had red wine, followed by white, and for dessert, cheese and port. Then, not surprisingly, I fell asleep – to be waked by a scalding hot towel and offers of – you guessed it – another dinner. This time, we both had fruit and watched the map until we landed at JFK.
Drazi fights happened in the baggage claim. For some weird reason, people seem to walk through other people even if we were reaching for luggage. OUT went my elbows as if I were a chariot in BEN HUR. Fortunately, however, our luggage came quickly, and so did our ride out of JFK, out of NYC ghastly traffic and back to Connecticut.
An hour later, we were home, eating English muffins. We delayed unpacking until the next morning.
We were home. It was a spectacular trip, great people, a magnificent ship, and never-to-be-forgotten sights. And it's great to be back.
The trip was SO worth it. Malta is one of those places where I just feel (despite the heat) comfortable. I like places that are a sort of assembly of cultures over millennia, and Malta is peerless in that. I am now doing Lessons Learned about packing:
If a ship does laundry, grab the opportunity. It's expensive, but so is pinning up the u-trou in the bathroom and maybe slipping on the floor.
You never have enough underwear or tee shirts
No one needs that many pairs of leggings.
It's not enough for shoes to be comfortable. They have to provide support, and you really do need heavy soles that won't slip. Walking sandals may be cooler, but they're risky.
If you need dress flats on board, make sure they have rubber soles.
If you can't roll something up, consider substituting something you can roll up.
Make sure your suitcases have some sort of scarf or other marker on them so you can grab them.
There's an app that lets you know if your suitcases have been checked. Yes, people brag about not checking anything through, but they only hold up people getting seated on the plane.
If it's sunny, of course you need a hat. You may want an umbrella to use as a parasol. We were given fans, too. I think the men were imitating Toranaga-sama in SHOGUN.
Test drive your sunscreen. I learned too late that Neutrogena makes my arm break out.
You will inevitably leave something important behind. Don't sweat the small stuff.
Don't listen to anyone who tries to tell you how to pack.
First of all and last of all, ENJOY YOURSELF.
And, of course, WAIT TILL NEXT YEAR.
Our next excursion will be to Camp Glimmerglass in August. We are promised tee shirts.