Midnight at the Oasis - but do the Camels know the words?.....

[Pushka]

Before there were camels, there was Malta. And before Morocco had a chance to dazzle us, confuse us, or possibly rearrange our luggage and expectations, there was Lisbon, where we are now, sitting in a hotel so beautiful it has already earned its own paragraph. I love reading back over old travel reports, not because they are polished pieces of literature, but because they catch the little things I would otherwise forget: the first impressions, the wrong turns, the hotel breakfasts, the views from a window, the moments that seemed ordinary at the time and then became the trip. So this is where the Morocco story begins, so not in Morocco at all, but with a preliminary wander through Malta and Lisbon, before the desert, before the oasis, and well before we discover whether the camels know any of the words.

 

[RooFlyer]

Forget your glasses @Pushka ?

 

[Pushka]

Forget your glasses @Pushka ?

I pasted in a hurry. But. I no longer need glasses. Better now?

 

[Pushka]

Preliminary – Malta
The plan to meet up with our son, daughter-in-law and her parents was actually hatched about two years ago. Someone looked at a map, declared that Malta was “roughly halfway” between Australia and the UK, and from that moment it somehow became the obvious choice.

Then the world started interfering.

The tensions with Iran had airlines changing routes, cancelling flights and generally making everyone wonder whether we’d actually get there. In the end it all sorted itself out, although not before we’d spent far too much time checking airline apps instead of packing.

The hotel changed. Then it changed again.

Somewhere along the way we also discovered a slightly unusual airfare trick. By booking through Bali we managed to get remarkably cheap business class all the way to Europe. There was, of course, a catch. It meant starting the whole adventure with a budget Jetstar hop from Adelaide to Bali, and finishing exactly the same way on the trip home.

Nothing says “you’ve arrived” quite like champagne in business class… immediately after squeezing your carry-on into a Jetstar overhead locker.

Still, the numbers stacked up, so that became the plan. A rather odd itinerary perhaps, but one that got us all to the same tiny island in the middle of the Mediterranean, which was the whole point in the first place.

 

[Pushka]

And then Lisbon appeared

So Malta was sorted.

But two years earlier we’d gone to Portugal to catch up with the same family members and realised we had travelled all that way for one week. It really didn’t cut the mustard. Lovely, yes. Sensible, no.

So we needed more.

MrP happened to mention Morocco. Within a day we had booked what is a 12-day land trip with Luxury Escapes. As you do.

That left a gap.

We first thought cruise, but after being so sick in Honolulu on the Hawaiian cruise, that idea lost its shine fairly quickly. So the next question was: what’s between Malta and Morocco?

Lisbon, apparently.

Thank God we didn’t pick France, because they are having the heatwave. So Lisbon it was.

We’d never been there, had often wanted to go to Portugal, and I like Portuguese tarts. Well, that's not true. We were in Portugal two years ago as mentioned but stayed in a gated community in an air bnb and its location meant we saw zero.zero of the country. We literally did - no sightseeing.

That was it. Done.

 

[Pushka]

The alarm went off at 3.00 am.

There really isn’t a dignified way to be awake at that hour, but Jetstar waited for no one, so off we went. Fortunately everything ran on time, which is all you can ask when the day starts in the middle of the night.

By lunchtime we were in Bali and, more importantly, at the Padma.

We’d booked club access and were reminded very quickly why we like it. The staff are lovely, the atmosphere is calm, and after a very early start it felt like exactly the right place to begin a long holiday rather than just another flight connection.

The weather was warm and sunny, so there wasn’t much debate about what to do next. Into the pool we went.

Later it was up to the Club Lounge for a couple of drinks and something to eat while watching everyone else drift in after their day.

Not a bad way to start what was shaping up to be a rather unusual holiday.

First day done. Four countries to go.

Next day as is often the case with Bali is rinse and repeat. Only four nights here so short stay.

Club breakfast. Wonderful.




Lovely garden area.


Adults pool. Chair rules strictly enforced. No saving.


Surfs up.




The beach at sunset.





Evening canapés.

 

[Pushka]

Bali to Europe
The next few days in Bali were pretty much rinse and repeat.

Sleep in a little. Breakfast. Pool. Club Lounge. A few drinks. Decide what to eat. Repeat.

Exactly what we wanted before the long haul.

Our flight to Europe wasn’t until late, so there was no rush. We made the most of another lazy day before heading back to the airport.

From there it was Turkish Airlines via Istanbul in business class.

The food was very good. The service was perfectly adequate without being especially memorable. The seats were comfortable, which, on an overnight flight, is probably the most important thing.

No complaints.

Europe was getting closer.

 

[Pushka]

Our connection in Istanbul turned into a six-hour stop thanks to a two-hour delay to Paris. Fortunately, the Turkish Airlines lounge is enormous, because it needed to be. It was absolutely packed when we arrived, but there was no shortage of food or drinks, so we settled in and made the best of it.

There were showers available, but after weighing up the queue against how hot Paris was apparently going to be anyway, I didn’t bother. As the afternoon wore on the lounge slowly emptied out and became much more pleasant.

Eventually our flight was called. The aircraft was a Neo with a really odd business class layout. There seemed to be a huge gap between the seats. I’m sure there was a reason for it, but it looked strange.

We landed in Paris late in the afternoon to discover the heatwave was very real. It hit us as soon as we stepped outside. We enjoyed excellent and immediate Karma with the family of three who rudely pushed past everyone on their way to get off the plane quickly only to find the exit was not the immediate front but the end of Business. Thanks Karma. Even more surprising was arriving in France with what felt like no customs at all. We scanned our passports, walked through, and suddenly we were in France.

Next job was working out the train into the city and on to our Novotel. That part wasn’t nearly as glamorous. The trains were packed, stiflingly hot and standing room only in places. Welcome to Paris.

 

[Pushka]

The Novotel, unfortunately, was expensive rubbish.

Our first room greeted us with a toilet that didn’t work properly and lights that flickered on and off. Back down to reception we went for a room change.

The second room fixed those problems but introduced a new one. Every door creaked so loudly it would have woken the dead. The one redeeming feature was that it was nice and cool, which, given the Paris heatwave, counted for a lot.

At about 2.30 pm we wandered downstairs thinking we’d have a quiet drink at the bar. No such luck. The bar didn’t open until 4.00 pm. Honestly…

So we decided to head back to Charles de Gaulle Airport instead. We had an early flight the next morning, so we thought we’d work out exactly where we needed to be, then find somewhere for a drink there instead.

By the end of the day we’d clocked up over 11,000 steps without really seeing anything except airports, train stations and hotel corridors. To be fair, the hotel restaurant was excellent. Good food, good service and probably the highlight of our very glamorous day in Paris. Sleep then a shorter flight to Malta and seeing our son after 2 years. But no tea before sleep because apparently Novotel doesn't provide milk, in any form. It's not the norm according to front desk. Ok. Sure. No. Wrong. And a common complaint in their online reviews.

 

[Pushka]

The next morning it was back to the airport. First stop, of course, the lounge, which was excellent and made the early start much more civilised.

Our flight with KM Malta was good too. No complaints at all. Mind you, by then we were getting a bit over flying. We’d done a lot of airports, lounges and aircraft in a very short space of time, and another boarding pass wasn’t quite as exciting as it had been a week earlier.

But this flight had something the others didn’t.

Our son was arriving from London on British Airways at almost exactly the same time. We walked into the arrivals area wondering if we’d have to wait around, but there he was. Perfect timing.

After all the planning, flights and delays, it was lovely to finally all be in the same place. Malta could officially begin.

Interesting. IST.

The flight magazine was actually worth reading on KM Malta and noted things to see.

 

[MEL_Traveller]

Eventually our flight was called. The aircraft was a Neo with a really odd business class layout. There seemed to be a huge gap between the seats. I’m sure there was a reason for it, but it looked strange.

Should be a 47-48 inch pitch for TK’s narrow body business class. That’s reasonably standard for business class in that category of ‘non-US’ and ‘non Aussie’ business class! (And of course excluding euro business).

Much more comfortable, and the screens are huge with super high definition.

Makes flying TK a good option around Europe

 

[Lat34]

The next morning it was back to the airport. First stop, of course, the lounge, which was excellent and made the early start much more civilised.

Our flight with KM Malta was good too. No complaints at all. Mind you, by then we were getting a bit over flying. We’d done a lot of airports, lounges and aircraft in a very short space of time, and another boarding pass wasn’t quite as exciting as it had been a week earlier.

But this flight had something the others didn’t.

Our son was arriving from London on British Airways at almost exactly the same time. We walked into the arrivals area wondering if we’d have to wait around, but there he was. Perfect timing.

After all the planning, flights and delays, it was lovely to finally all be in the same place. Malta could officially begin.

Interesting. IST. View attachment 512776

The flight magazine was actually worth reading on KM Malta and noted things to see.

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View attachment 512778

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View attachment 512779

Following with great interest, particularly CDG arrival plus KM Malta experiences and Malta generally. As part of our return to Oz after a Nile cruise we visit Malta for ~4 days then ferry to southern Sicily to start the multi-day trip back home.

 

[Pushka]

Following with great interest, particularly CDG arrival plus KM Malta experiences and Malta generally. As part of our return to Oz after a Nile cruise we visit Malta for ~4 days then ferry to southern Sicily to start the multi-day trip back home.

We went on boat trips on four days of six. Malta is that kind of place.

 

[Pushka]

A quick trip to the hotel in Sliema to dump the bags and finally relax.

It didn’t take us long to realise that our travelling styles were a bit different. We like to get out early and make the most of the morning. The rest of the family… not so much. Holidays for them are a slower start.

Rather than everyone waiting for everyone else, we decided we’d simply let them know where we were going and they were welcome to join us. If they did, great. If not, we’d head off anyway. It worked really well for the rest of the week.

Our first night we ate at the hotel’s poolside restaurant. It was a lovely meal, although we completely misunderstood the menu and ordered far too much food. A shame really, because it was all very good, but there was no way we could finish it.

The next morning it was off to Marsaxlokk for the Sunday market. An early start for us, naturally.

It was exactly what we’d hoped for. Plenty of fresh fish, lots of local craft stalls and a really nice atmosphere around the waterfront. As the morning wore on it became incredibly busy, so getting there early definitely paid off.








We also took one of the little boat trips around the bay. It wasn’t a long cruise, just enough to see Marsaxlokk from the water and work up an appetite for lunch.



A cafe beer and ice cream and we were on our way back to the hotel for a catchup.

 

[Pushka]

After lunch we headed back to the hotel expecting we’d probably missed something exciting.

Nope. The rest of the crew had spent the day exactly where we’d left them… around the pool.
So we joined them.

The hotel pool was unbelievably busy, with just about every sunlounger occupied. It certainly wasn’t the peaceful little oasis we’d imagined, but it was a good place to cool off after wandering around Marsaxlokk all morning.

The kids’ patio became our afternoon headquarters. A quick trip to the local bottle shop kept us supplied with drinks at a fraction of hotel prices.
That also reminded me of an Australian ad for an alcohol chain called “On My Way”. In the ad, someone says they’re “on my way”, but they’re very obviously still nowhere near leaving.

I showed it to our British relatives and explained the joke. From that moment on, “On my way” became the running family catchphrase whenever one of the younger generation announced they were just about to come down… and then appeared twenty minutes later. Somehow it was much funnier than getting annoyed, and it gave us all a laugh for the rest of the trip.

Dinner that night was an easy decision. We ordered food in, it arrived surprisingly quickly, and it was excellent.

The nicest part, though, was just spending time together. Even though it had been two years since we’d all caught up in Portugal, we simply slipped straight back into it. No awkwardness, no catching up required. It just clicked again, as if we’d seen each other the week before.

View from their patio.

 

[Pushka]

The next morning the kids had organised a food tour in Valletta for all of us. The meeting time was 9.30 am.

"On my way”… guess who wasn’t there on time?

Eventually everyone assembled and off we went. It turned out to be a really worthwhile tour. Our guide mixed the food with plenty of Maltese history as we wandered through the streets, so it wasn’t just about eating.

One of the first stops was for pastizzi. We’d heard about them but had never tried one. The traditional fillings were ricotta or mushy peas.

Now, I know how wrong that sounds. Mushy peas? Really? Surprisingly, the mushy pea version won hands down for both of us. The ricotta was nice, but the peas had much more flavour. The only slight problem was the size. They were enormous.

We looked at each other thinking, “If this is stop number one, we’re in trouble.”

Thankfully, each tasting after that was a bit more sensible. We visited about five different places altogether, sampling local specialties as we went, and by the end we’d learned a lot about Malta as well as its food.

One thing you definitely earn on that tour is your lunch. Valletta isn’t flat. There were stairs everywhere, plenty of walking and, by late morning, crowds filling the narrow streets. The food probably balanced itself out in the end… or at least that’s what we told ourselves.

 

[Pushka]

After the food tour it was back to the hotel for the now familiar routine… a swim, a cool drink and working out what we were going to do the next day.

Our choice was a four-harbour cruise leaving from Sliema.

It was another very warm day, but once the boat got moving it was glorious. The breeze made all the difference. We’d recommend doing this fairly early in a stay. It gave us an excellent orientation of the area, with a good look at Valletta from the water and the surrounding harbours. By the time we got off the boat we had a much better idea of how everything fitted together.

Sometimes those simple sightseeing trips turn out to be more useful than you expect.

It was hot though. The Black Boat belonged to Errol Flynn and now a restaurant. We'd hope to hear the cannons at 4pm but we could see the crowd lined up at Baraka but the boat got back well before its advertised tour length then held out a tip jar as we disembarked. One of those red big tour concepts. We'd heard the cannons on the food tour up at the gardens and the noise is deafening.

 

[Pushka]

That evening was becoming a bit of a pattern.

Back to the hotel, a swim to cool off, drinks on the patio, a bag of chips, a glass of wine and ordering dinner in. It wasn’t exactly adventurous, but it was easy, relaxed and gave us hours just to sit around talking.

The following day we headed back into Valletta. After the food tour we wanted to revisit some of the places our guide had pointed out rather than rush past them.

One stop was the cathedral to see the famous Caravaggio. It certainly lived up to expectations and was one of those paintings that is far more impressive in real life than in photographs.

Outside Parliament House waiting to escort the person in this car.



Restoration work in the Cathedral. These marble plates are dedicated to the Knights and Senior officials.



And the Caravaggio which was enormous. We then entered a special exhibit that explained how the process of paining and positioning and geometry comes into play with art.



The rest of the day was spent doing what we enjoy most in old cities… wandering. We explored the markets, ducked down little side streets, occasionally got completely lost, and generally discovered whatever happened to be around the next corner. Ventured to Barakaka Gardens again well before any Canons so no people around. Just this ship. There were ships in port every day including the same ship that we'd been on when we'd first visited Malta many years ago.



That evening the younger generation disappeared for dinner on their own.

Apparently it turned out to be one of the best meals they’d ever eaten.

Meanwhile, us adults stayed at the hotel and had pizzas on the pool deck. We’d finally learned our lesson about portion sizes, ordered much more sensibly, and had one of those evenings where the conversation mattered far more than the food.

Everyone was happy, just in different restaurants.

 

[Pushka]

As the week went on, the conversation gradually shifted from “this holiday” to “next time.” Our son was already planning to come back to Australia for Christmas after six years away, so that was locked in. Then there was our own trip. We were heading to the UK the following July for the cricket, a solar eclipse cruise and, of course, to see their new home.

There was just one slight problem.

The kidlets had already booked a seven-day Cunard cruise to France… on exactly the dates we’d be there. For about thirty seconds we thought, “Well, that’s unfortunate.”

Then someone suggested the obvious solution.

We’d book the cruise too. Within a day we had.

Then, not to be outdone, her parents booked it as well.

Problem solved.

It’s funny how these things happen. You spend months trying to line everyone’s calendars up, then discover the easiest answer is simply to go on another holiday together.

 

[Pushka]

Thursday was a great day.

We did a five-hour fast boat cruise to Comino, the Blue Lagoon and Gozo. It was advertised as snorkelling, which sounded excellent.

Except there were no snorkels. Just masks.

Oh well. Details.
We smothered ourselves in sunburn cream and climbed aboard, surrounded by gorgeous young couples who all looked as though they belonged in a Mediterranean travel brochure. We, on the other hand, were very sensibly covered in SPF 50.

Our guide, Tony, was excellent. He’d been boating around Malta for years and knew exactly where to take us. He is 78 and says he started the boat industry in Malta for tourists around 50 years ago. Great character.



The water was that ridiculous blue you assume has been edited in photographs. Except there it was, right in front of us. Crystal clear, full of fish and absolutely beautiful.




We were jumping off the back of the boat into deep blue waters teeming with fish. Tony was feeding them from above. Heaven.

No snorkels, but honestly, who cared.

The Red Boat skipper is Tony's son. At one point one boat was making its way into the caves with loud music. Tony yelled at them then cranked his music up so loud and yelled 'This is music'. After exiting the caves he floored it. Letting people skipper and having their photos taken. I did a big oopsie when having ours done. As I slid over from our seat into Tony's, my habit of grabbing on to something took hold again. But this time it was the steering wheel. I jagged it from right to left as I slid over. The group at the front of the boat broke into laughter as the boat going full speed veered left and then again at my reaction of horror at what I'd done. Oh well. I'm old. It happens.

Tony playing a trick on me.





I was making sure I wasn't touching that wheel again.