Mrs P and I have recently been to Malta. Again. Our third trip in three years. And much as we love the place, that’s probably enough of Malta for us, for a few years at least. We are rather Malta’d out. RyanAir no longer flies from our local airport. And we fitted in a trip to Gozo this time, which ticks the last major thing off our list. I have little to report beyond that.
Little to report, but these two things. Our flight into Malta takes about three hours. Which is just long enough to warrant buying a coffee, but not long enough to justify the expense of any food. The coffee trolley took ages to get to us, despite our seats being towards the front of the plane. This was because the airline was collecting donations for UNICEF and their Ukraine appeal. Almost everyone gave something. Most people are the decent sort.
The second point is this. Malta knows a thing or two about being attacked by fascists. Malta knows what its like to be on the receiving end of a bombing campaign designed to destroy all life. Malta held firm and resisted the Germans in WW2. And eventually, Malta was rebuilt into the fabulous, beautiful place it is today. There is always hope.
But the Ukrainians must resist and win. And it’s the duty of all decent people in the West to help. With donations aboard aircraft. With higher energy costs. With our taxes buying them anti tank rockets. Every penny count.
The Mexile 