The Long Story

I have to slightly contradict myself here by saying that I didn't exactly squander my twenties. I was a typical early twenty something girl who partied like it was 1999, and it was… I worked two jobs to support my social life and pay the rent in my pokey little flat in Rathmines, if I was lucky, I had enough money left over to eat for the week, and pay for my bus ticket home every Sunday. I was 20 with not a care in the world, and the future seemed like a hundred years away. I must admit, a country girl moving to the big smoke at the tender age of 20 was a real eye opener, and my God I could tell you some stories… Fast forward to a few months later when an empty back account and a bad flu encouraged me to move home.

Living back in Navan was fine, but three years later (2002) I began to feel like a hamster in a wheel, going going going and getting nowhere, I was stuck. My world had shrunk into this small little circle of friends, same job, all the same faces and same places every weekend. Every day was Groundhog Day and I wanted something more. But what?

Then one day, after the purchase of the cutest pair of summer sandals, I stared out at the cold rain and said, “I’m never going to get to wear these in this weather”, and then BOOM just like that I was walloped by the travel bug! I mean, I had to go somewhere to get a wear out of the new sandals anyway! Where would I go? I knew I needed to go some place warm and sunny as the grey Irish days were really getting me down, and I knew that just two weeks were not going to cut it. My God I wish I was as ballsy now as I was back then, I just decided "fuck it I'm moving to Malta", so move to Malta I did. I can look back and laugh at the whole thing now, I mean, who was that girl who decided to move to another country based on the purchase of new footwear, and where is she now? I had such amazing courage to just pack up and leave. Although I did have a little doubt in the back of my mind which I think was influenced by the begrudgers.. "oh you won't last two weeks.." and “why would you want to leave, sure don’t you have everything you need in Navan” and that was the sort of negative shit I was leaving behind. I knew that it was time for a change. And so, I took temporary leave from my job with the expectation that I would return in 3 months.

How wrong was I

Malta - Part 1

So off I went by myself on a one way ticket. I knew no one, I had no job to go to, and I was only vaguely familiar with the island from my previous summer holiday there. I was blessed though that I had accommodation sorted in my Aunt's holiday house in Marsascala which turned out to be a great starting point for me. The first 3 weeks were tough as I settled in and got my bearings, always with a little worry in the back of my mind, what if this doesn’t work out? But if it hadn’t, so what. Home was always just a flight away. And besides, you never know if you don’t go, right?

Marsascala is a quaint fishing village in the South East of the Island, away from the hustle & bustle of the tourist areas, and let me tell you, waking up every morning to the sound of the waves gently crashing against the rocks in the harbour, the unique salty smell of the sea, and the fresh sea breeze on your face is a tonic for the body, mind, and soul. I was so lucky to have these wonders of nature literally a stone’s throw from my balcony and bedroom window. It was heaven.

I never regretted travelling there on my own even though solo female travel generally wasn’t a done thing in 2002, but it encouraged me to make that extra effort to get out and about to meet new people and make friends. I think in a way, if I had travelled with another person that I possibly would have just stuck with them and not had to make that effort to meet people. Here's to solo travel!

I always loved how people would act on their summer holidays, full of joy and just out to have a good time on their two weeks off, and we were proud to take them out & about and show them our Malta. O’Caseys was the perfect spot for meeting people, an Irish Pub right in the centre of the buzzing tourist area always seemed to be everyone’s first stop. We hung out there all the time, and we were happy to give tips and pointers of where to go and what to do. Tourists came and went. They would stay for a week or two, then a new bunch of tourists would arrive. To be honest, people’s generosity amazed me, we were often taken out for meals and drinks and occasionally treated to a bottle of wine, and all to show their appreciation of our hospitality. It’s nice to be nice.

Now you may be thinking that we were all goody two shoes and playing tour guide out of the goodness of our hearts? Trust me, sometimes that was far from the truth. Tourists aren’t always that well behaved on holidays, and neither were we. Summer of 2003 saw an influx of US Navy to the island, up to 3,000 at a time, and they just wanted to have FUN. Have you ever heard the expression 'Like a sailor on shore leave'? Well, yes I can confirm the accuracy of that saying. I swear I never ate so many steak dinners, drank as much Moet, and partied as I did that year. The running joke was that we could go out with 2 Liri (about €5) in our pockets, eat, buy cigarettes, get drunk, be proposed to, break hearts, and party until 7am, and still come home with change! We were spoiled rotten, and I can't promise that it was all good old clean fun (Again, some epic stories may be unveiled at a later date with a big old 18+ rating.. Must actually get some of the old gang together for the opportunity to swap some old stories and jot them down)

It’s hard to believe that social media, or even camera phones weren’t around in the early 00s so there are barely any photos to share but all those fun times are so fresh in my memories like they just happened yesterday..

Malta - Part 2

Coming soon…