Gazing down from my hotel balcony, a beautiful breath taking view, acres of landscaped gardens, flowers, trees of every colour and hue
My eyes travel over an azure blue bay. To a thousand coloured sunshades assaulting my mind
An ants nest of seething half naked humanity, burnt red and covered in oil. Surrounded by discarded bottles and cans and wrappers of ice cream stained foil
For a week they're going to lie there, bodies burned raw by the sun. Their idea of enjoyment, their idea of holiday fun
I have walked the length of those bright golden sands, smelt the stench of the stale cooking oil. It gives me no pleasure to linger here while I have the real Malta to enjoy
Beyond the human pollution the sand dwellers love a burnt barren ridge gainst the sky. And yet from this red brown earth an existence bis clawed by the strength of a strong Maltese hand
My gaze travels left to the beautiful church and the cream coloured town just beyond. The old and the new joined hand in hand where concrete marries natural stone
How many of the sand dwellers have enjoyed what this beautiful land can provide? Have they truly experienced this island, seen life on the other side?
In a few days they'll be up there flying back to the place they call home, but from what they experienced of Malta they might just have well been to the moon
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 4:26 AM UTC
Gazing down from my hotel balcony, a beautiful breath taking view, acres of landscaped gardens, flowers, trees of every colour and hue
My eyes travel over an azure blue bay. To a thousand coloured sunshades assaulting my mind
An ants nest of seething half naked humanity, burnt red and covered in oil. Surrounded by discarded bottles and cans and wrappers of ice cream stained foil
For a week they're going to lie there, bodies burned raw by the sun. Their idea of enjoyment, their idea of holiday fun
I have walked the length of those bright golden sands, smelt the stench of the stale cooking oil. It gives me no pleasure to linger here while I have the real Malta to enjoy
Beyond the human pollution the sand dwellers love a burnt barren ridge gainst the sky. And yet from this red brown earth an existence bis clawed by the strength of a strong Maltese hand
My gaze travels left to the beautiful church and the cream coloured town just beyond. The old and the new joined hand in hand where concrete marries natural stone
How many of the sand dwellers have enjoyed what this beautiful land can provide? Have they truly experienced this island, seen life on the other side?
In a few days they'll be up there flying back to the place they call home, but from what they experienced of Malta they might just have well been to the moon
This was written on my hotel balcony 18 months ago while on holiday in Malta, my favourite holiday destination
