Bush camping, or “wild camping” as Phoebe Smith calls it, is my favourite way to sleep when travelling. There’s no denying it’s not as comfortable as an actual bed but nothing beats waking up slowly as the sun comes up and stepping out of your tent to a fantastic view. Read Extreme Sleeps: How to Wild Camp here.
Hannah’s Top Travel Links is a weekly collection of some of the best travel-related stories that caught her eye during the week. If you would like to recommend a link, you can leave a comment or contact Hannah here.
Malta: A fish-shaped speck of land spanning just over 315 km2, affectionately called “the rock” by its locals. It basks comfortably in the sun somewhere between Sicily and Libya, the Mediterranean sea lapping its idyllic shores.
Aside from a stunning climate, Malta has many virtues. It boasts a colourful history and diverse culture, having been ruled by practically everyone at some point – most notably the Arabs, Knights of St. John and the British; it is home to nine UNESCO World Heritage sites, including the world’s oldest free-standing structures; practically every beach along the coastline is worth visiting, and the locals are commended worldwide for their hospitality.
There is one special thing about Malta, however, which isn’t the first people think of but probably leaves the longest lasting impression: the food. Oh, the glorious food! Growing up in Malta I took every bite for granted. A few months into my emigration to Ireland, I realised there was a gaping hole in my life. I missed my friends and family but what I really, really yearned for was a slice of Maltese pizza.
Maltese cuisine is heavily linked to its history, with strong Sicilian and British influences, as well as Spanish, French and Maghrebin. A typical Maltese meal can convince any carb-lover s/he has died and gone to heaven, and while it’s possible to accommodate vegetarians, most menus are dominated by meat dishes. You can expect to eat plenty of pasta, pizza, seafood and fish, and chips are served with almost everything.
Given Malta’s size, few people visit for longer than a week or two, during which time it is impossible to get your mouth around every yummy morsel the island has to offer. Allow me to make your life easier. The following is a list of the top 5 things you absolutely have to eat when in Malta.
Pastizzi (pronounced pas-tits-ee)
Pastizzi, called cheese or pea cakes in English, are the diamond-shaped, crispy, savoury pastries of the gods. They are filled either with ricotta cheese or mushy peas and can be picked up easily from any of the innumerable Pastizzerias around the island for about €0.30 each. Fresh, hot, cheap and incredibly tasty – score!
Fun fact: Ricotta pastizzi are cheekily shaped like a woman’s nether regions and thus the word pastizz is commonly used as a euphemism.
Ħobż biż-Żejt (pronounced hobs biz zayt)
Ħobż biż-Żejt literally means ‘bread with oil’. You’ll find this on most lunchtime menus but it is easy enough to make yourself. All you need is a loaf of Maltese bread (crusty, sourdough bread – divine), olive oil, tomatoes and tuna. Olives and capers make a yummy addition too, as do butter beans or goat’s cheese. Drizzle the bread with olive oil then rub it with the tomatoes. A pinch of pepper wouldn’t go amiss at this stage. Next, layer on the tuna, olives, capers or whatever takes your fancy. Et voilà! I warn you it is highly addictive.
Seafood or Fish at Marsaxlokk
Being an island, the standard of seafood and fish in Malta is incredibly high no matter where you are. However, all Maltese will agree that the freshest and best of it can be found at Marsaxlokk (mar-sa-shlock), a fishing village in the south of the island. Take your pick of any of the restaurants along the seafront and tuck in.
Bonus points: Get to Marsaxlokk early on a Sunday and have a walk round the fish market for a real insight as to how fresh everything is. Don’t be surprised if it’s still wriggling!
Pizza
Maltese pizza is easily on par with Italian pizza. You are unlikely to be disappointed wherever you choose to have it.
Any Maltese Platter
There are a number of small delicacies that you should not visit Malta without tasting and most of them will be served to you when ordering a Maltese platter. You can expect: Fażola (butter beans in oil and garlic), Ġbejniet tal-bżar (peppered goat’s cheese), Bigilla (a dip made of mashed beans), Maltese sausage (a traditional spiced pork sausage), sundried tomatoes, and many other wonderful nibbles.
The selection of Maltese cuisine is incredibly vast and you could eat your way through an entire holiday, which wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. But whatever you do, make sure you don’t leave the island without digging into everything on this list.
You cannot visit Africa without going on safari. Upon leaving the continent you are passed through a Safari Detection Machine which beeps and tattoos ‘stupid’ on your forehead if it detects a lack of safari-exposure. Fact. Sort of.
During my time in East and South Africa, I managed to go on about ten safaris. There were your standard 4×4 safaris and then there were walking safaris, ones on elephant back and others in boats and dug-out canoes. There was the opportunity to go on a cycling safari too but I had to opt out of that since I can’t ride a bike (don’t worry, learning how to do so is on my before-30 list).
The safari at Lake Nakuru National Park in Kenya was certainly not the best of all of them, possibly not even in the top 3, however it is special for one particular reason: it was my very first African safari.
My eyes were round in wonder pretty much the entire way through. Everything was simply incredible! I had never, ever seen so much wildlife in such a relatively concentrated area. Subsequent safaris were just as awe-inspiring but I’ll never forget my first time ;)
Here are some photos which captured my favourite moments of the day…
We entered Lake Nakuru National Park at about 5.30am, as the mist was still rising off the lake. A stillness blanketed everything; even the birds were quiet.
This is actually my favourite photo of the entire journey in Africa. Our driver rolled to a stop, turned off the engine and pointed… and there stood a buffalo, statuesque as you like, only its mouth moving as it munched away. This was my first sighting of one of The Big Five and it couldn’t have been in a more picturesque setting.
Nature takes its course as Nakuru town looks on.
And then we got stuck. Due to rains the night before, the tracks were in bad shape and it was only a matter of time. At the very beginning of the day our driver had told us to close the van windows “or you’ll be lunch” so it was with quite some trepidation that we all piled out the van to push. I’ll never forget how one girl jumped out of her skin when someone shut the van door quickly and, I guess, it sounded like a lion’s roar? Having since heard a lion roar, I can say it sounded nothing like it. I think she almost wet herself :D
Lake Nakuru is famed for its flamingos but we spotted an abundance of other bird species.
Dung beetles are fascinating. A group of us watched this little guy struggle with his poo-ball for at least ten minutes. Our drivers couldn’t understand why we were so intrigued by such a tiny insect.
No photo can do this view any justice. At the top of Babboon Cliff I had a bit of an emotional moment… looking out across the park and the lake, it hit me that I had made it to Africa. After close to two years of planning, I had made it.
Look at this cool dude!
This. This guy makes it to my Top 10 Safari Moments list. I believe it’s a white rhino (forgive me if I’m wrong but we saw both black and white rhino and I am too inexperienced to tell the difference). We observed the rhino quietly munching the grass and then…
Stunned silence. Such a beautiful moment. I doubt the video is enough for you to sense the majesty of this beast but I will never ever forget it.
And I’ll wrap up with this guy. Mr. Blue Balls. Actually called a Vervet Monkey but that’s no fun.
Duck Village – Manoel Island, Malta Photo by Simmy’s Travels
This week I have been following the protests in Turkey. Thanks to social media, I have been allowed a glimpse into an incredible turn of events. My heart goes out to these people who are fighting for the democracy that is their right. Caroline Muscat writes Turkey: Beyond the barricades, there’s a vision of a better world.
As incredibly teeny tiny as Malta is, there are still places here that I haven’t been. This week I found out about the Duck Village on Manoel Island, Gzira thanks to Simmy’s Travels. Definitely making sure I visit this place over the next few months!
Even when following your dreams, not everyday is as blissful as you would hope. Travelling the world can have its flat moments sometimes too. Ekua at Girl, Unstoppable writes very honestly about her less-than-favourable experience of some parts of Vietnam.
Hannah’s Top Travel Links is a weekly collection of some of the best travel-related stories that caught her eye during the week. If you would like to recommend a link, you can contact Hannah here.
As a woman, I have been the butt of jokes and derogatory comments on many an occasion; I have been belittled and objectified. As a result, I have been made angry; I have spoken out against the behaviour that caused this; I have planted two feet firmly on the ground and argued my right to be treated with respect and dignity, an equal to any other.
And yet, nothing made me a feminist quite like India did.
It started with the staring. Then there were the photographs, the leery comments and gestures and the inappropriate touching. There were the men who followed me, went out of their way to make me feel uncomfortable, and even scared me when they didn’t get their own way. Every day I was openly treated as inferior. Every day I grew angrier.
I was told stories of harassment by other female travellers which horrified me: one woman was threatened by her driver that he would leave her stranded in the middle of nowhere if she objected to being groped, while another had a group of men attempt to open her hotel door in the middle of the night. Another was spat at for no reason – presumably just for being present?
All of this went on to the backdrop of a terrifying story which hit the news on 16th December 2012 – the gang rape and murder of a woman in Delhi, which sparked protests in the capital and made international headlines. My blood boiled when about three weeks later I read in a newspaper that the rapists were to plead Not Guilty on the basis that a “respected lady” would not be raped.
In a country where my very appearance set me apart from everyone else and attracted unwanted attention, it also gave me a sort of protection. I embraced it and felt slightly emboldened. Enough, at least, to continue to travel on my own. But yes, I was scared, and in a country where a case of rape is reported every 20 minutes (which calls to mind all the cases which aren’t), rightly so.
India made me angry and in doing so, she opened my eyes. I cannot forget seeing an Indian woman board a local bus on her own and almost come to tears as the only available seat was next to a man she did not know. I was confused when I saw fear in her eyes. I didn’t know her story but what I could tell was that she clearly did not have the voice to speak out against whatever caused her to feel that way.
Make no mistake – for all our airs and graces in Western society, we are no different. Since I have been back in Europe, I have been subjected to the same inequality as I was in India. It is (usually) slightly more subtle, however we are constantly surrounded by it in such a way that we just don’t notice it. It’s on the TV (the most sexist show in history), on the radio (let’s start with Colbie O’Donis’ What You Got) on advertisements wherever you look (YouTube: Representations of Gender in Advertising) … women are continuously objectified, sexualised and demeaned. But the difference to that Indian woman on the bus is that I do have a voice. Past generations fought hard for me to have that voice and I am obliged to use it.
A recent incident comes to mind. Last month on the way home from work I was subjected to the disgusting comments of a man who thought it perfectly acceptable to openly discuss, leer at and embarrass every woman who got on/off the bus. I was fuming; not only because of his behaviour, but more so because of everyone else’s. It was a clear case of harassment but not a single person thought to put this man in his place. I said my piece to him before getting off the bus in disgust. Now I wish I had said more. I wish I had caused a huge scene and next time (because there will be a next time) I intend to do so.
While I have always been a feminist, I was quietly so before India. I spoke up when directly challenged but otherwise I was just another person on the bus who wouldn’t have said anything. Was it because I took my voice for granted? Was I apathetic? For some reason, I wasn’t angry enough to use it. India taught me awareness and she taught me assertiveness. For that I say Thank You, and for that woman on the bus and all the downtrodden women who do not have a voice, I will use mine.
Looking for the good stuff? The video is at the end!
The plane is tiny. Will it manage to take off? A group of us have just arrived at Ground Rush Adventures‘ drop-zone in the Namib Desert, most of us about to experience our first ever tandem skydive. My heart is pounding, as it has been for the last two hours, and my palms are clammy. I don’t do planes and I don’t do heights … and yet here I am anyway. I’ve been hopping about since lunch, incredibly excited about the prospect of jumping out of a plane … But gosh that plane really is incredibly tiny.
One of the instructors takes us aside for a safety briefing. We are shown how to hold ourselves as we are dangled out the plane door, and how to lift our legs as we come in to land. I laugh at his parting line: The only dangerous thing about skydiving is that it’s addictive.
And so we wait. Two people are allowed up at a time so we are paired off and randomly put into a jumping order. I happen to be on the last jump of the day, which is a bit of a bummer but also means I get to skydive as the sun sets over Namibia … I can deal with that.
The first two of our group are suited up and packed into the plane. Somehow, seven people (1 pilot, 2 jumpers, 2 instructors and 2 cameramen) cram themselves in and it’s time to go. The engine sputters into life and the plane rolls off, gaining speed over the bumpy desert floor. I find myself cringing with every second that goes by and the plane is still earth-bound, but then, miraculously, it takes to the air and quickly becomes a speck in the wide, blue sky.
The ascent to 10,000 feet takes about 25 minutes. We are eager to see the first skydivers jump out of the plane so spend most of the time craning up and squinting, hoping to catch sight of them. We all have achy necks when one of the girls shouts, “There they are!” Way, way up in the sky we see a blue dot, soon followed by another. It’s not long before the first parachute opens (a slightly larger red dot) and it becomes easier to follow them as they spiral down towards the ground.
The landing is probably the scariest part to watch. The whooping, elated skydivers come back to earth at quite some speed and I half expect to see them crash into the ground. Actually, it is quite a graceful landing and as soon as the harness is off, the first girl to land is jumping about, screaming and making us all giddy with her adrenalin rush. My turn soon!
I have to wait a few hours. All that time in the sun, as well as a few ciders, has helped me to chill out but the second they call my name I have butterflies in my tummy. Really violent butterflies that sort of make me want to vomit. I am suited up and strapped into a harness and it’s time to go…
I am about to jump out of a plane at 10,000 feet. This is the most ridiculous thing I have ever done. I can barely contain myself! I choose to skip about and giggle like a child instead.
I am introduced to the person who will shortly be holding my life in his hands. I think this photo was taken just before the cameraman asked me for my last words which, for the record, were “fuck yeah!” Deep, Hannah.
Without a second thought, I hop into the plane, squeeze in right next to the pilot and off we go, all the way up to 10,000 feet…
I was dreading being in the plane far more than jumping out of it but somehow, I am not scared. If anything I feel peaceful up here and the 25 minutes it takes us to reach the altitude we need seems to go by in the blink of an eye.
Suddenly, my skydive buddy Jo is out the door and my instructor, to whom I am now safely attached, shuffles me along to the door. I am not afraid. I am not even excited. I am just about to jump out of this plane as casually as I get out of bed in the morning. Except that I can’t help but look down…
And we’re off!
I’M FUCKING FLYING!!!
It doesn’t feel like I am falling, even though I am rushing towards the ground at about 200km/h. No, it feels as if someone has placed a warehouse full of industrial fans in front of me and hit the ‘on’ switch. I find it hard to breathe and feel myself making chipmunk faces. I can’t help but hope I don’t look like a complete douche on the video.
I find myself gasping for air and just as I start to wonder if I might pass out, the parachute opens and the best part of the whole experience begins.
The Namib Desert stretches out beneath me, sand dunes as far as I can see. At one point it melds into the glittering Atlantic Ocean. I can see the drop-zone below, the people like ants. I have looked down into craters and valleys from high up in the mountains but I have never ever had a view quite like this. I am awe-struck and my heart is so full of wonder all I can do is smile and occasionally scream in glee. “Do you ever get bored of this?” I ask my instructor. “Never. That’s why I do it every single day,” he replies. I can see why. I want to live up here, suspended in this beautiful place between the heavens and the earth.
We glide down for what feels like between 5 and 10 minutes. My instructor occasionally pulls maneuvers like spiralling in tight circles, or closing the parachute slightly and making us drop. That makes me feel a bit sick but I don’t want it to end. Sadly, the ground is ready to greet me once again.
The second my feet touch the ground, the adrenalin rush really kicks in. I feel euphoric and all I can do is jump and scream and hug people. I DID IT! And now I want to do it all over again :)
The instructors told us at the beginning of the day that the absolute best thing to do after your first skydive, is have a beer. We’re all happy to oblige!
I am on a high the rest of the evening and just as we were warned, I am addicted. The adrenalin rush is unbeatable and if money was no issue I would be back at that drop-zone the very next day. All I can do now is count down the days until my next jump and watch the video to keep me entertained in the meanwhile…
HannahandtheWorld.com was created with the aim of documenting Hannah's own travels and inspiring others to follow their passion and travel the world. Hannah has travelled three continents as a solo female backpacker and hopes her writing will encourage other women to take the leap whether they have a travel partner or not.
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