maltese vacation

Here are some differences between this holiday and the others: I had visited twice before (three times if you count the fact I was born there); my parents would be on holiday with us (and we were sharing an apartment with them); I would be seeing relatives who hadn’t seen me since I was 15 years old; and... Brendan was sick the entire time.

In a way it more of a pilgrimage than a holiday.

Worst things first - Brendan spent about 80% of the trip in the hotel room. He made an effort to come out and see a few things but when you’re sick it’s hard to focus on anything else. He had really been looking forward to the trip and all the relatives had been keen to meet him, so it was disappointing to continually have to report back ‘no change, still sick’ when asked about the state of his health. After a few weeks off work he’s feeling better now, but it really was unfortunate timing.

I, on the other hand, was in good health and trying hard not to feel too much like Mr Rochester, going out and having a good time while the mad wife is locked away in the attic.

Sharing an apartment with my parents was fine, but I have to admit this was helped by the fact that it was the probably the nicest hotel I have ever stayed at.


One of main things I realised is that the last time I was there I really hadn’t been paying much attention (being a teenager and overwhelmingly distraught by the fact that I was away from my friends and wouldn’t be able to go to the Blue Light Disco probably didn’t help). I remembered little things, but largely it was like seeing it for the first time.

Meeting up with all the relatives was a definite highlight. It was also an added benefit to be in a country where my parents could point out points of personal historic significance – like the places they grew up and the hospital where I was born and to see family legends like the washing machine that was bought to wash my nappies and is still going strong.