Malta, the keeper of my heart – People, the holders of my soul – Knights, the redeemers of my spirit

Malta, the keeper of my heart – People, the holders of my soul – Knights, the redeemers of my spirit

Before you, dear reader, begin moving your beautiful eyes along the lines I have written, I would like to state a few introductory words, and ask for some things as well… This is my first time writing anything like this. While I would normally be open to constructive criticism, I am not seeking it in this instance… for this is supposed to be my train of thought, fully untouched, my emotions, pure as a lamb, and my heart, poured out and put into a form of written text. I would also like to apologise for any possible grammatical errors that I may have left in my writings, hopefully, there will be none or only a few. And at last, I want to reassure you that everything written is written by me, myself, not by anyone else, not by AI — which I am purely pointing out due to the fact that I fancy using the em dash, which artificial intelligence is known to use a lot. Now, let’s shift our attention downwards…

In the year of our Lord, 2025, I have departed to the isles I have never before set foot on — the islands of Malta, Gozo, and Comino. ’Tis my first adventure after many seasons that I’ve stayed amongst my own, in my country, having to tend to duties and work… As you can understand, I was rather excited to finally venture out… out to a place where none of my family has ever been. 

As I was landing in a flying piece of machinery, I was rather unimpressed by these lands, which were foreign to me in language, nature, culture, and architecture amongst other things — but this would soon change, a complete turn from my former opinions… Not to mention that I am not used to the local climate at all and I have ‘suffered’ a great deal, but day by day I am growing more accustomed to it, or so it seems.

I will have walked the streets of the glorious and most beautiful Valletta through and through, not aware a single bit of the history that took place here many generations ago… unaware of the weight that the name of this magnificent city holds, unaware of the blood, sweat, and tears that have been shed for these lands…

The minute I have crossed the Marsamxett Harbour via a ferry from Sliema, it felt as if something has awaken in me — this turned out, at least for now, to be an adventurous spirit, one that fuels me with desire to explore, to witness every single detail the city has “engraved” into itself, to listen to everything what the walls, which have witnessed entire generations of men and women, have to say… and so they began, my daily ventures into this magnificent realm, where I finally let go of my worldly worries…

At large, I was still untouched by the history of the fortifications, harbours, hills, and streets, but this would soon come to a complete change, a change that touched my own heart, soul, and psyche — for I have never heard of anything more impressive than the dedication, fierce, courage, and strength of the Maltese people, who have for many years been commanded in their own land, rather than being their own fair rulers. 

This same fascination I hold for the brave men, knights, officers, and thinkers of the Order of Knights of the Hospital of Saint John of Jerusalem, that most of us know quite simply as the Knights Hospitaller… The feats which they’ve accomplished against the Ottoman attackers, while being greately outnumbered, are hard to imagine, almost as if they were a part of a fantasy book, where battles are enormous and the armies as big in numbers as many nations in today’s world… but the incredible thing is that it was real, that it happened, and that so many warriors have gallantly fought. 

 My heart also goes out to all the slaves, mercenaries, servants, serfs, renegades, prisoners, and all those that I couldn’t name, who showed immense mental and physical strength during all historical periods of Malta, and especially the Great Siege of 1565 during which many have perished and suffered… I cannot even begin to imagine the levels of fear, wory, stress, tiredness, and illness that these people have been put through, either voluntarily or involuntarily… they are not forgotten and I hope that they never will be, even though their names individually have never made it into the famous scripts of history.

My soul has been taken from me, in a good sense, upon obtaining and reading a book, translated by an Englishman named Ernle Bradford, a former Royal Navy Officer who himself had fought during the Battle of Malta — but one that took place many seasons later, in 1942, where the attackers were now Germans and Italians, the same nationalities who once fought and died to protect this island, instead of the fierce Turks…

 The script translated was written by an older man born in Italy — Francisco Balbi di Correggio, an arquebusier, a warrior, a Catholic… at the age of sixty he bravely fought on the Maltese side during the Great Siege of 1565, during which he kept a journal, which was published just 3 years after the armed conflict. The fact that it is written as a daily journal, and that he was there himself and witnessed everything, really speaks to me a lot more than any other book that I’ve had the fortune to land my eyes on… it is with great difficulty that I describe what I am feeling — what this book, this written account, has lighted in me, for I have never before felt this way while reading a book, let alone ever wrote about what my mind and soul is experiencing… Pure feelings, vivid imagination, connection to the warriors written about, amazement — things that I have felt while reading and that I continue to feel at the time of writing.

The way Balbi captures the scenes, the ordinary and background moments, the battles — everything, is exactly what I’ve been seeking for a long time in a book — the bravery, which many people nowadays lack in even simple matters of life — which I am guilty of myself, is shown as strong as a thousand wild horses together by both the Catholic and Muslim warriors — both fighting fiercely and daily despite heavy losses and hardship. I want to strictly point out that I am not attempting to romanticize war by any chance, I am fully aware that it is filled to the brim and even over it with suffering and destruction, as can be sadly witnessed in many places around the globe today, I am merely trying to point out the courage and dedication that our ancestors have fought with — which, if applied correctly, can be, in my opinion at the least, a positive influence on many — to get inspired, to get up, and to fight their past slothful self and achieve glory.

Another area of my own self which the book indirectly touched is my faith — my Christian, Catholic faith to be more exact, which especially in the past months or so hasn’t been the strongest, which I admit with a heavy heart — but I must point out that I have never stopped believing in God, I have merely been doing Him a disservice by not praying, not reading the Word, by not acting exactly as a good believer should… 

But the dedication, spirit, and faith, of the Lord’s knights, warriors, and citizens, have fully reassured me in my faith, and I shall do my best, as those noble men did, to overcome any and all struggles, to not let the devil lead me astray, and to reignite the flame of religion inside of me and my entire existence, for I shall too become a good follower and continue the walk of life in the steps of my ancestors, who were largely catholic knights themselves.

While my spirit faced the aforementiomed struggle with faith, my mind has been working behind the scenes, thinking very seriously of finishing my studies in my home country next year, and consequently moving to the beautiful island of Malta to pursue the study of archaeology, which I have been holding dear to my heart for many years, having recently been employed as an archaeological excavator, which shall aid me greatly in securing myself a place at the local university… For that day, I cannot wait more eagerly, being able to only count the days as I better myself and broaden my knowledge and experience day by day…

It is with great sorrow that I will have to leave Malta in two days, early on a Wednesday morning, for I have fallen in love — not with a person, but with the voices of the past, the way of life, and the individuals of this isle… I will miss you, dear Malta, greatly and I will do everything I can to visit again — sooner rather than later hopefully. I know you are not without flaws, but what even is love and its value if it’s only reserved for the perfect?..

I have made sure to gather pieces of Malta that I will bring back home with me… among those are books, postcards, unique and pretty pebbles from the isle of Comino, a small figurine of a maltese venus, and most importantly — the memories and sights I have witnessed, which there are plentiful of…

Malta, to me, isn’t just a destination or something that can be crossed off of a bucketlist — it brings me comfort, peace, and at the same time adventure and desire… it has reignited the fire of love within me — not towards a person this time, but a nation, a civilization, with its people and culture… something that my heart will remember forever.

Fare thee well Malta, I shall return soon.