As you can see on my left hand I have the superb beauty of the Mediterranean sea. On my right hand I have two dark Russian ladies, one of them curious to know if this is my first time going to Malta. In broken Greek she mentions "It's warm there and that's nice" which sounded like "and that's all about it". "Want a drink?" she adds as the air hostess passes by, always in her broken Greek, making these words sound like a zipped CV of hers. Still better than AirMalta's web check in which didn't work obliging me to queue at their counter.
From the first minutes walking around Valeta I can confirm the origin of the country's name. I'm not here to brag about everything originating from ancient Hellas but even the leader of Malta in his message for the bicentennial of Hellas a couple of days ago he mentioned that "Malta" comes from the Hellenic word for honey which is "Meli" (ΜΕΛΙ). And Malta is sweet indeed. At least away from summer's high season which (I guess) can be hot and wet af and I have no reasons to deny this since my host didn't either.
This little honey in the middle of Mediterranean was attractive and vulnerable to conquerors through the years. Among them the Brits have left the heaviest mark which is of course still rather noticeable today. It's their second language and everybody speaks them, totally opposite to the neighbouring South Italy were almost nobody does. This makes life so much easier communication wise but a little challenging for a worried mind like mine visiting a country that drives left but who can complain when given a chance for a nice walk by the sea: