Day 5 Part II

The headlights were getting closer very quickly. I tried frantically to re-start the goat. A loud screech emanating from burning rubber pierced the quiet night of the early morning as the engine of the goat finally cranked. The headlights were literally inches from the passenger side door when the other car finally stopped. Curiously, no horn was blown.

I backed up the goat to allow the other car to pass. I then completed the sharp turn in the direction of the Sea Passenger Terminal, which I eventually found on the left side of the street. Free parking was available across the street in a parking lot made up of loose gravel with no demarcation of parking spaces. The lot was directly beneath one of the pale fortress-type cliff walls which seemed to surround the main island of Malta, which was at least four stories tall.

I parked the car in some random parking space next to the few other cars in the parking lot. I then proceeded across the street to this small dingy building known as the Sea Passenger Terminal. This was no Grand Central Station or Charles de Gaulle airport, I can assure you. Even the sign identifying the Sea Passenger Terminal was not all that obvious. A bare bulb lit the night air outside the glass front door of the terminal.

Inside, there were some passengers waiting to take the ferry to Sicily. There were several small offices with glass doors for several companies. One of them was the ticket office of Virtu Ferries, which was the only office that was open; another was the ticket office of the company on whose vessel I will board to leave Malta for Sorrento, Italy in a few days. It was dark and warm in the waiting area as I sat on one of the bare benches with no seat back after checking in and receiving my ticket. There were what appeared to be three checkpoints which passengers have to go through before boarding any sea craft. The checkpoints were manned by Maltese officials. I was “fortunate” enough to have two of the Maltese officials sit next to me in the nearly-empty terminal, only to light up their cigarettes while chatting with each other. Eventually, the terminal filled with more passengers.

When it was time to board, everybody lined up at once in three long lines. It was quiet, yet rather disorganized. When I arrived at the checkpoint, I was asked a couple of simple questions by the neither-friendly-nor-unfriendly Maltese official. I showed my passport and had it stamped. I then boarded the ferry.