Goodbye for now, Malta
Today I become yet another twenty-something to leave Malta for pastures new.
I was wondering how to go about writing this blog post, or even whether to write it at all. I don’t want to be one of these bloggers who posts about every detail of their lives, and it’s not like I’m doing something that many of my peers haven’t done already. I’m somewhat of a straggler, in fact. The world doesn’t need any more “Things I’ll miss about Malta” posts. I don’t eat pastizzi or hobz biz-zejt that often, and I think Cisk is a bit overrated. There I said it.
And yet here I am writing one anyway.
I’ll miss walking through Valletta late at night, feeling like I have an entire capital city, with all its grandiose and shabby buildings, all to myself, the only sound my own (drunken) foot steps.
I’ll miss this county’s ridiculous lack of a sense of proportion, and how schizophrenic it can be, like being trapped in a lift with a group of insane people… and a priest. Say what you like, but it makes for good comedy material.
I’ll miss being able to get in my car and arrive at Ghajn Tuffieha five minutes later.
I’ll miss the sun, and in fact I was hoping the weather would stay miserable until I left. I don’t think it was too much to ask, but no, it’s fucking gorgeous outside right now.
I’ll miss my family and friends. Except John. FU John.
That’s about all I can think of right now. I’ll probably start missing more things once the cold, grim reality of the UK becomes apparent. Or maybe not. Anyway, so long and thanks for all the fish!
Ps. I will try my very best not to be condescending about local politics. If I ever am, I apologise in advance for being another of those people.
Make me happy and like my Facebook page.