The Beginning. Part 1 in a series of blogs about a research trip I did to Malta.
The Maltese islands are like sparkling yellow citrines surrounded by water so blue you think they are floating in the middle of the universe. Here, in the Mediterranean Sea, lie the islands like a dream of forgotten tales. Do you hear them? Does She sing to you as you wander Her lands?
If you have Eyes to See and Ears to Hear, you will find that the Maltese Islands have much to offer. Malta, with a heart so gentle and an early history so exceptional, is a memory bank of tales that awakens our spirit.
I watched the tourists as they silently passed the gigantic stones of the ancient temples, as they secretly reach out to touch the stones with an unusual gentleness. I felt their quiet hearts, their listening minds, as they closed their eyes for a second, melding into the touch. Then quickly they remove their hands as nobody is allowed to touch these walls anymore. Mass tourism has brought much destruction to our world, yet on Malta, those of us who hear Her songs of ancient tales begin to listen. We reach out in love with tender hearts. We might not know why, but something inside of us, remembers.
So begins my manuscript about a research trip to Malta. It was a long stay indeed. It was even a magical stay, but it was also a journey enfolded by a shadow of darkness that scared me. Nightmares which woke me up, whispered warnings from researchers I met along the way and an unspoken fear of the legacy that once was. One learns to keep silent without knowing why.
My trip to Malta was part of the research for my sequel to The Hidden Camino, but it ended up becoming a journey with many unexpected twists. It is not before now, so many years later, that I am able, even ready, to slowly unravel what happened during my time there. It’s difficult for me to write about Malta, it really is. It has taken me years to just write this blog. There were so many experiences I had to make sense off. So many contradictions I just couldn’t grasp.
There are obviously many things from my time on Malta, that I am unable to share at present. They need a much larger platform, like a book, to give them life and meaning. But in a series of blog posts, I will open doors that have been closed for far too long. Here, I will share with you my love for Malta.
Before I begin my stories, please let me introduce you to this magnificent place, which you most likely have never heard off. Malta, is the name of a country consisting of four islands. The main island is also called Malta. Then we have Gozo, which is the second largest island and Comino, where only one family lives. The smallest island, Fifla, is today a bird sanctuary. However, about 7000 years ago, it used to be part of a landbridge between Sicily and the main island.
These islands are located in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea and their landmass cover 316 km in total. To the west is Sardinia, France and Spain, and to the north is Italy. To the east is Greece and the Middle East, and to the south, Libya and Africa. This location places Malta right in the middle of where the four corners of the world meet. So, here I am. Ready to start my story as I allow the memories back in. Today I am certain it started with the The Sleeping Lady of Malta.
It was January 2015. I had just released The Hidden Camino and was busy promoting the book. I had in all honesty, expected my dreams to be over once the book was out, but no. My dream had been short, but clear; I was standing in front of the famous Sleeping Lady of Malta, a figurine I also had dreamt about in the beginning of my Camino pilgrimage.
She was now wide awake, and looked me straight in the eye. The rawness of her look was terrifying. She spoke with a loving, but forceful voice: ”You have read about me. You have dreamt about me. It’s now time for you to come and meet me!”
To be continued…
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