Underground at last

Malta has quite a subterranean history. Between the Hypogeum, catacombs and WWII tunnels where the Maltese sheltered, there are many places to visit underground. 

We'd been to the Hypogeum which simply means an underground cemetery. Although only one place is called "The Hypogeum," we visited another one today. I'd never managed to time my visits to various tunnel locations to gain admission, so I finally got to see some of the underground tunnels that protected the population during the bombings.

Glenn had made the trip already, but John and I set out by bus to visit St Paul's catacombs in Rabat. It was a two-fer, or even a three-fer, depending on your interpretation. With Glenn's directions, we easily found the site beside St Paul's Church. Mass was in progress so we were unable to see the interior of the church itself.

We paid the admission fee and a bit extra for the essential audio guide. Our first stop was the chapel/cave where St Paul was apparently held after he survived a shipwreck and arrived unceremoniously in Malta. The cave now has three altars, and yet again, I wondered why so many altars in a small space. 

I didn't linger long in this place because shortly after we got there, a tour group with a guide providing narrative in a language we didn't understand, arrived to fill it up. We criss-crossed with that group, or parts of it, in other parts of our underground visit.

The beginning of the underground experience

Fortunately, this warren of caves was well-marked so we didn't need to drop breadcrumbs to find our way out. Had it not been, we'd probably still be acting like a couple of rats in a maze looking for the exit.

The stairs in the photo above were the best we found. How nice to have handrails. Further into the catacombs, they became as essential as the stairs.

In the WWII tunnels we saw the individual rooms, dug out by or for families to have some privacy. I never did ask how long they stayed underground. There was no evidence of "sanitary facilities" so that was left to our imaginations. If you should visit, please ask and let me know later. 

Most of the personal spaces were simply dug out of the limestone and were maybe 8 by 10 feet on average. Some families must have thought that their stay would be a long one and they painted the walls, and some even tiled the floors. I hope the families were small because it would have been quite cosy (crowded). 

The tunnels with the family rooms. They might not have been as bright at the time they
were occupied, depending on the lighting available. On the upside, the lack of windows
meant they didn't argue over what sort of curtains to hang.

The "owners" of this room splurged on tile flooring. There is some evidence of
hinges, but no doors still in place, which would have provided more privacy.
To me, that would have been like living in a closet. Not for the claustrophobic.

A benefit at the time was that the catacombs already existed so they had a headstart on these bomb shelters. We didn't see any skulls or other bones in the maze of interconnected spaces of the catacombs.

The photo doesn't do a good job of showing the depth and the maze-like nature
of this underground cemetery. We didn't plumb the depths completely. Some of the
stairways were narrow, uneven and well-worn.

John decided to test the comfort of a final resting place. He declined to stay.

After rising from the depths, we spent a little while in the Museum which was all above ground. There were lots of religious artifacts, some very depressing paintings, and some recent abstract-ish paintings which were for sale. You may not be surprised to learn that we didn't purchase any. 

A pair of 17th century "ruby slippers" which I'm sure Dorothy would have rejected for use in Oz.

These had belonged to the Inquisitor in Malta between 1634 and 1639. Later they were donated by Pope

Alexander, to St Paul's Grotto in Malta.

The sedan chair for the sole personal use of the bishop. I didn't take a photo of the sign giving the name of the bishop, and I forget the narrative explanation from the audio-guide. My apologies. Neither did I photograph the two long decorative poles that were used to carry the chair.

And then we emerged into the light of the outdoors and decided to wander a little with a casual eye for somewhere to stop for a coffee. We happened upon an outdoor street market selling pretty much anything in the line of clothes and shoes. I think there were a couple of fruit and vegetable stands. It wasn't yet noon and they seemed to be packing up. Again, we didn't support the local economy.

A bit more wandering and a sign outside a restaurant caught my eye. 'Secret Garden out back' or something like that. My favourite childhood book was The Secret Garden, so I had to check it out. It was lovely. By this time the sun had come out and it was pleasantly warm and a bit humid. I could feel my hair rising to a state of frizziness. Here is what we found:

The after-church crowd was inside the restaurant, finishing up their breakfast, so the secret garden was not crowded. We chose a round table where we could enjoy the padded seat and view of the entire space.

And at 12 noon, the restaurant was able to take orders for lunch. We'd ordered drinks shortly after sitting down, but had to wait until 12 to order the meal. And this is what we had.

Rabbit Ravioli in tomato sauce. It was very tasty, but the only taste we could identify was the tomato sauce. For all I know they'd used finely ground chicken, or pork, or beef, or horse but probably rabbit. All of those meats are available in most restaurants.
We stick to the familiar and leave the horses alone.

On our way to find the bus stop for our return to Qawra via Bugibba, we finally found a Maltese Falcon, or rather the ingredients required to make one. 

And that is the sole reference we found to a Maltese Falcon in the entire country.

And for the good news – tomorrow St John's Co-Cathedral in Valletta is open for visiting and we plan to make an early start and hopefully avoid long line-ups. We weren't sure we'd be able to visit because of the closure due to the death of the bishop. He very kindly had his funeral on Saturday and we thank him, posthumously. That will be our last stop before packing up for our return home. Our flight is at six am, so our driver will collect us at 4. Maybe we'll see a nice sunrise, or maybe I won't even notice.