Staying in a hostel is the best way I’ve found to avoid loneliness when traveling alone. Whenever I get a hotel room to myself and spend any time there, I find the isolation to be the most acute. We are not solitary creatures.
I have two short-term roommates in my three bed room; one from Italy and one from South Korea. Kam’man and I struck up a conversation about Korea and America, and also about Mongolia; a land of mutual interest. He and I set out to see what there is to see in Malta early yesterday morning.
The ancient coastal village of Marsaxlokk is located on the southeast of Malta’s main island. On Sundays there is a market that seemingly goes on forever with fresh fish as the exclamation point at the end of one’s walking past table after table of cheap housewares, cheap clothing, cheap jewelry, cheap memorabilia, and cheap snack food. It’s like Maltese Walmart out of doors.
Kam’man was curious about a number of foods and delicacies which he must find exotic. In my case, it was only the seafood that I found fascinating. Of course I wouldn’t know how to prepare any of it, so how interesting could it really be? Malta is a place where people come to get from one form of wealth to a slightly less familiar form of wealth. It is like Cancun for Brits, where the migrant workers are mostly Italian and Latvian.
The Maltese are tolerant hosts to the throngs like me; the travelers, the curious, and the bored. I wonder what the archipelago is like in the off-season, when the principle language spoken is Maltese, and not so many forms of poor to perfect English. It’s probably even more lovely.
albaniacalling 