Killing them softly

In October I spent some days in Malta. One sunny Sunday morning I decided to go to a fisherman's village Marsaxlokk (to be read Marsa-shlok) mainly because of its name (don't you like the 'x' in the middle of the word and on top of that it is read as 'sh') but also because of the guide's promise that the world's best fish market takes place on Sundays there.

The evening before there was a huge rain in Valletta which actually means Malta as there is little else in Malta outside Valletta. The rain was so serious that coming back from a Saturday outing with Venelina and Dora I was afraid that the water would get into the car and we would drift away direction Africa.

The morning after was as fresh as if no deluge had threatened to wipe the island the night before. Sometimes nature is so innocent and oblivious of what it had previously inflicted or at least pretends to be totally innocent. It was naughtily offering people a gentle African breeze.

The only sign of the rain in Martaxlokk were the huge puddles which were quickly evaporating in front of the eyes of Sunday morning coffee-drinkers. Evaporating puddles always remind me of childhood Sliven, the thrill to get out of home after being forced to hide during a summer rain. The only drawback was the fact that the leather ball would get into the water and become really heavy.

View of Martaxlokk port

I find that the Martaxlokk fishermen found a really cute colour combination for their boats. It fits so well the stone of the village houses.

The gentle killer boats

No matter how gentle the boats look like they have hidden killer properties and are actually there to bring those guys below to the tables in a non-living state.

Scampi anyone?

Hecatombe 1

Hecatombe 2

Hecatombe 3

Hecatombe 4

Hecatombe 5