Corinne CrawfordTuesday was dedicated to a work day so I only left the apartment to grab lunch at a café down by the water. I had several video meetings late in the night due to the time difference between Malta and California. My first meeting was going to start at 10:30pm Malta time and my last one was starting at 1:00am. I took a quick nap before my 10:30pm meeting but found myself so exhausted the following day, it changed my plans. I was intending to get up early to take the bus, then the ferry to go to the other island of Malta, called Gozo. I was also going to try to make it to what they call the Blue Lagoon, located on a very small island in between Gozo and Malta on the way back. But because it is a long bus ride (1 hour) and then a 30 minute ferry just to get to Goza, it didn’t make sense to go unless you go early. Knowing that I still had to take it easy after being so sick, I gave myself permission to sleep in and change my plans, even though it meant I would have even less time to see all of the things I wanted to on Malta. I ended up sleeping until noon. By the time I got up and showered, the only thing I had time for was to try to do my wandering around Valletta so I figured I would go there and also maybe try to have my first real Maltese meal now that my stomach felt more able to accept something other than liquids. Mario, who had driven me from the airport to my apartment on my first day, had given me some suggestions for dinner and other things to see and also invited me to let him know when I was in Valletta and he would let me come to the hotel he worked at to get an amazing view of Valletta from the rooftop of the 5 star hotel. I had another experience of waiting for a bus that did not come and trying to find alternatives and finally was able to catch a bus to Valletta after waiting a while. However, this meant that I did not get to Valletta until about 3:30pm. I had messaged Mario that I was on my way to Valletta and he informed that it was his day off and he would not be at the hotel. Things were just not going my way timing-wise. When I got to Valletta, I made my way to the first place he had recommended to visit, the Palace Armory and it was closed. Then I made my way to the next place, Casa picala and got there a few minutes past 4pm. I had checked this one and it was open until 5pm. However, they would not let me in because they said that they stopped their last tour at 4pm because they had a private tour coming. Seriously?. So all I could do was just wander the streets for several hours because the restaurant he recommended did not open until 7:30pm. Mario had told me to mention that I was a friend of his so I was expecting nice service. I stopped at two pubs with outdoor seating, both were quite interesting and I read my book enjoying the atmosphere of the charming city and watched people go by.
I started to make my way to the restaurant to arrive at 7:30pm. I was hungry from not eating all day and wanted to get back to go to bed early as I was going to get up early and make it to Gozo the following day. I arrived at the restaurant right at 7:30pm, but the doors were locked. The lights were on, but I didn’t see anyone so I thought maybe they were just a bit late in opening. I strolled around the block and through a nice public garden overlooking the water before trying again at about 7:45pm. Still locked. I gave up. I was starting to think that the whole country of Malta was giving me the finger at this point. So many things were not going my way. I would go back to Sliema and try to find dinner there. I knew there was a pub/restaurant about 3 blocks from my apartment that I could easily go to for a quick bite to eat before going to bed. And just to be consistent, the bus I needed was 20 minutes late to get me back to Sliema. I got off the bus in Sliema and walked the 10 minutes in the direction of my apartment and the pub. There are plenty of pubs and cafés along the waterfront where the bus lets you off but not much directly around my apartment. When I got to the pub at about 8:30pm, the place was jam packed and it no longer seemed a good option to try to make my way in and order some food, so I gave up. I went back to my apartment and had a packet of crackers and went to bed.
I had been messaging and calling my mother often as she was alone in Arizona and considering my dad had just died, I was feeling a little guilty that I had left her all alone. She was worried about me being sick but I had been keeping her informed that I was continuing to feel better and she shouldn’t worry to much. But then I called her and she did not sound well. She told me she was feeling sick and had actually been throwing up and had pain in her abdomen. Oh boy, I told her to go to the hospital if she was not feeling better because I thought it sounded like it might be her gall bladder, having experience with those symptoms several years back when I had emergency surgery to remove mine. Now I was worried. She was alone and had to pack up the rental house to leave in just a few days. What should I do? What could I do? I kept in touch with her often and then finally got a message from her that she had taken herself to the emergency room because she was still throwing up and was in pain. However she had to wait 7 hours at the ER and still had not been seen so she decided to go back home and see what happened. Well it did not take long for her to message me and tell me that she had called an ambulance to go back to the hospital because she was in bad shape. Of course, now I am beyond worried. Does she want me to come back? Does she want my sister to go to her? Ahhh… After more back and forth and her waiting for tests to come back, my suspicions were correct and she had to have her gall bladder removed. Luckily, she had made some arrangements with my uncle, her brother, who lived in Phoenix, just a few hours away and he and his wife were going to help pack up her house while she was in the hospital and would take her to their house in Phoenix while she recuperated. Turns out that worked out well because they had to transfer her to a hospital in Phoenix because of complications she was having with her heart. She had the surgery and is now at my uncles house but there are still concerns with her heart and it is hard to concentrate on anything else. I am worried about her and wonder if I should go back but she keeps telling me that there is nothing I could do if I was there so I stay here. I might be the world’s worst daughter and karma will probably catch up to me for that.
