Valletta

As my son embarks upon his Swallows and Amazons holiday I am left, in the late evening listening to the strains of ra-ra-rasputin, to reflect upon our day in Valetta. Valiant capital of all that is Malta. The prime motive for embarking upon this journey was to try and find a school that would hire me. And could I find a school let alone a job offer? No. Instead, after pouring over anglicised Maltese street names (why-oh-why-oh-why?) and trying to match them up with the street maps, I gave up. All roads seem to lead to Sliema though. That's where we're headed tomorrow. So after giving up on today we went to enjoy 'The Maltese Experience' as narrated by Sir Derek Jacoby. What an interesting experience that was. We were talked through about 3000000 years worth of history to the rounded vowels of Sir Derek. The Maltese Experience is multi-national and I wonder which stars of stage and screen narrated their countries translation. All I could hear beyond my headphones was German.
The boy has gone native and is mixing with the locals. Off fishing tonight he is with a net, rod and a knapsack on his back. If he comes back with a tattoo of a half-naked mermaid on his forearm I shall count myself lucky that he came back at all.
I'm off to read about Michael Palin's travels round eastern Europe.
I know that kung fu pandas are all the rage but on Malta it's The Shaolin, kung fu monks. They've been and gone, which is a shame, but they sure know how to cash in!