When the Tempest makes You Dream, Malta

A panoramic view of Valletta, the capital of Malta

Because of its strategic position in the Mediterranean, Malta has seldom known peace since antiquity. The first to arrive were the Phoenicians with their trading vessels, followed by the Greeks, the Romans, the Byzantines, the Arabs, the Normans and the Aragonese. In time, Emperor Charles V granted the island to the Knights of the Order of St John for a purely symbolic annual tribute: a falcon.

The Knights remained for roughly three centuries before taking refuge in Rome when Napoleon arrived. After his defeat by Nelson, the British established their presence for over a hundred years. In later times, the island faced no longer threats from the sea, but from the sky, as Italian and German forces relentlessly bombarded it, once again because of its strategic position between Europe and North Africa.

Elegant Baroque buildings lining the streets of Valletta. Photograph by Barbara Athanassiadis

The Grand Master’s Palace, Valletta. Photograph by Barbara Athanassiadis

What a turbulent history for such a small island.

When I arrived in the first days of December, the wind was so fierce that the street lamps swayed, and the sea was swollen and wild. Valletta, the capital, seemed almost under siege by the storm — so violent and theatrical that it evoked the great battles of the past. I found myself wholly immersed, in both mind and spirit, in those distant, warlike events.

The Cross of the Knights Hospitaller — Knights of St John — ever accompanying their fleet across the Mediterranean

Within the Grand Master’s Palace, Valletta

Amid the clamour of rain and wind, what instilled in me a profound sense of security were the immense fortifications encircling the old city, set upon that narrow peninsula dividing land from sea. These walls were erected by the Grand Master, Jean de la Valette, following the terrible siege by the armada of Suleiman the Magnificent, who sought at all costs to subdue the island. He did not succeed, owing in no small part to the importance that Christian Europe attached to this tiny outpost — one that appears on the map as little more than a dot.

The author, seated in the courtyard of the Grand Master’s Palace, Valletta

The hotel where I stayed during my sojourn, Phoenicia, situated just beyond the fortifications, commanded a magnificent view over the harbour. Conceived in the 1930s by Lady Margaret Strickland and designed by Scottish architect William Binnie, it has preserved its original Art Deco interiors throughout its history, serving for decades as a distinguished gathering place for Malta’s British society and visiting dignitaries. Yet, as night fell and the wind howled against the windows, my sleep proved elusive amid the roar of rain and stormy gusts, and drawing back the curtains, I would watch the tempest unfold with a kind of mesmerised fascination.

The entrance to Phoenicia, a symbol of elegance beyond Valletta’s superb fortifications. Photograph by Barbara Athanassiadis

Travelling in such weather is, of course, far from comfortable, yet to dream of an island shaped and tested by tempests — both natural and historical — is, in its own way, deeply restorative to the spirit.

Embark on a journey with my Books in English