The Gozo Leathertramp (Gozo Island, Malta)

I caught the ferry from the main island of Malta to Gozo, the smaller and much less populated sister island. I had arranged to rent a room from an English expat in an old mill that had been converted into a house out in the paddocks. I was pleasantly surprised when I arrived – I had a large room with a terrace overlooking the surrounding countryside and the place even had the original mill stone. And that’s all for $15 per night! After the great time I had renting a room in an apartment on Malta, this just further added to the idea that hotels and hostels are boring and sterile and should be avoided where possible.

 

(That’s me sitting outside my room on the top level of the old mill.)

Because the farmhouse was in the middle of paddocks, I was woken early each morning by the sound of gun shots. It was that time of year when the migratory birds fly from Europe down to Africa to avoid the cold weather. Many species use Malta as a stopping point along the way, and it is part of the local pastime to go out with a couple of guns and a retrieval dog and shoot them out of the sky. The birds aren’t big enough to eat so it’s purely for the novelty of hunting, and there have been significant decreases in bird populations because of the hunting. Safe to say this tradition probably won’t be going on for too many more years, but it added to the spirit of the Farmhouse being woken each morning by gunfire as close as 100 metres away.

I spent most of my time on Gozo walking. With my music playing (PJ.LB) and a water bottle in my pack, I’d walk for hours exploring the headland trails and country lanes of the island. The island had these epically rugged cliff coastlines which were easy enough to explore, and the small towns were nice to pass through (each with there own out of proportion church). I was walking Forest Gump style, the Gozo Leathertramp.

 

 

 

At the heart of the island is the capital Victoria, with the old citadel. Its high walls were used to protect the inhabitants of Gozo from invading armies and plundering corsairs from Africa. When foreign boats were seen on the horizon, horns would blow and all the folk on the island would muster their animals and quickly harvest anything of value and retreat into the walls of the citadel.

In addition to the citadel, there are several old watch towers along the coastlines of Malta’s islands, much in the same condition as they were when they were used to look out for enemy or pirate ships.  Situated between Africa and Europe, this place saw many unwelcomed visitors from both directions, and their best chance was to hide with as much produce as they could so as not to be starved out.  It was great to explore these ancient structures and see the citadel looming at the heart of the island from a distant.

I walked and walked along the coastline and past salt pans and up to high peaks. During my walks I came upon three snakes and on one occasional had pellets that had been fired at the migrating birds come raining down all around me.

I got a chance to meet up with one of Erin’s relatives on the island. It was nice to meet him but things got a little awkward when I told the dog lover that I munched on some dog meat in Beijing earlier in the year. But I felt like I was the sane one later when he started going on about how aliens cultivated life on earth.  I shouldn’t have been surprised – it was a relation of Erin’s mum after all.

 

It was during my stay in Malta that I realised this is as close to poverty as I’ll ever get. My hair is long and tangled, and I have given up trying to comb it. I was still using a bus ticket that expired five days previous, having worked out a way to get around renewing it. I was on a budget of 7.30$ per day, which I was regularly meeting. I started to feel sorry for the people sitting next to me on the bus, that’s how long ago my deodorant ran out. And where do I even start with all my gear that has suffered the ‘wear and tear’ of a decade. My shoes are barely holding together, bits of rubber and canvas just hanging off them, my socks clearly exposed. My belt broke and the cheap shit one I got to replace it is just about done for too, but I took the time to dig a new hole nonetheless because I’ve lost 10kgs since I left home 7 months ago, the bulk of that probably within the last three months (I’ve never been able to see my ribs so clearly). My ‘holeproof’ socks have holes in them, and I’m walking around listening to music blaring out of one earphone because the other doesn’t work anymore.

And it might sound like I’m whinging, but I like this. This is the year of make do, because when else in my life am I going to be able to live like a hobo? I think going to bed hungry and having a mental argument with yourself over whether to have two or three slices of bread for breakfast is an experience all ‘children of the west’ need to have. It’s not good for your health, I must surely be anaemic by now and I haven’t had calcium in months, but it’s gotta be good for the soul.

 

 

I just know I’m lucky enough that if I wanted to get all brand new clothes and possessions and resume nightly  feasts I could, and that’s why it’s good to starve from time to time – to get a better understanding of how good being full is.

On my 24^th birthday I went to bed hungry and dreamt of food (not by choice that particular night).  This harsh budget was kind of an experiment for this part of the trip, but I had to know what living this style of life felt like at some point, and what better place to do it than Malta and Gozo where you walk almost everywhere and see amazing things every day for free with no fear for safety.

When I left Gozo returned to the main island I stayed in a dingy hotel for $7 per night and then went and stayed again in Pascals apartment (as mentioned in previous blog) as he said I could come and stay free of charge to help him more with his English.

My time in Malta, and especially Gozo, was one of the highlights of my trip so far. And that just goes to show you don’t need to be living extravagantly to be having a good time. In fact, the more extravagant you do it, the more comfortable you are, the less affected you’ll be.

No money could pay for the great time I had hiking around Gozo on empty belly in worn out clothes and rundown shoes, playing the part of the unemployed, knotty haired, gaunt and possibly mentally ill drifter.