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gozo part III: temples and beer
2002-05-01 @ 3:48 p.m.

On our second full day, we all walked down to the harbor and rented another car and driver from the same place that Maggie and Mr. V had gotten theirs the day before. We stopped back at the hotel so I could grab alternative shoes and more band-aids. That blister from Friday had broken, and another one had appeared on my other foot. No matter. It was a lovely day, and we had a car.

First we went to see the Ggantija Temples. They were built in 3600 BC, and are older than Stonehenge, far older than the ancient Greek temples we saw at Agrigento last year. In fact, they are the oldest human-built stuctures in the world. In other words, not to be missed. Nearby is the Xaghra Stone Circle, a neolithic burial shrine that unfortunately is not open to the public.

The temples are impressive. They are neolithic, and were used for goddess worship. Many headless statues of fat, voluptuous women have been found there and through out the island. They symbolize fertility. They've only found a few heads, which appear to have been detachable. Different heads for different occasions, maybe.

Ggantija is a complex, with two temples interlinked. You can see the remains of alters, and the footbaths at the entrance that were used for purification, and the reservoirs used to catch the blood from sacrifices. They've found the remains from the sacrifices, and human bones were not among them, if you're interested. There are neolithic spiral carvings, symbolizing the feminine and the eternal circle of life and death. Or so they think. In one part of the South Temple, there is a pubic triangle-- feminine again-- and opposite a phallus added later, once they figured out just what sex accomplishes. The phallic symbol, at this complex and at other neolithic sites, is always subordinated to the pubic triangle and other symbols of feminine fertility.

Which is just how it should be, don't you think?

The temples still attract large numbers of modern goddess worshippers and new-age types. Supposedly they lie at the intersection of some powerful ley-lines and have heightened energy as a result. Some people have claimed to have had visions, or been enveloped by powerful auras, etc.

I paid close attention, but I didn't feel nothin'.

After that, it was off to Ta' Pinu. In 1883, a local woman heard a disembodied voice telling her to head to a local chapel and say three Hail Marys, "one for each day I was in the tomb". By the 1920s, the chapel needed to be enlarged to accomodate all the pilgrims. The transepts are full of discarded crutches and protheses, framed pictures of adults and children who had been healed, framed little outfits for newborns sent in by grateful couples who had become proud parents, all through the power of prayer.

So I went in prayed, and Mr. V climbed the nearby hill, where they've erected the stations of the cross. Being a Baptist, he thought there were only six of them. There are fourteen, Buddy. Should've asked the Catholic.

Back to the mini-van, and we went careening to the coast to see the Inland Sea. This is where the Maltese finally got creative with names: Inland Pond would have been far more accurate.

Near that is the Azure Window, an cliff that juts out into the sea, with a hundred-meter hole, or window, worn through it by the waves. It is the most beautiful spot on the island. Stunning blue sea, dramatic cliffs, unbelievable.

Elvis and I climbed the rocks to get to the top. I love climbing rocks. No need for ropes or anything, just shoes with good traction and you can scramble right up for the view of your life. The climb was just difficult enough to be entertaining. I could have picked out a more challenging and entertaining route, but Elvis is not terribly fond of heights. In fact, I thought it might be fun to make out up at the very top. Residual goddess fertility energy from the temple, perhaps? Elvis said, "you can make out if you want, but you'll have to do it by yourself. I'm getting away from the edge and out of here."

Spoilsport.

Then it was off to Marsalforn for lunch. Marsalforn is the big beach resort on Gozo, and was pretty deserted at this time of year. We ate at a fish restaurant right on the water, selected by our driver, who knew the owner. Big surprise there, eh? Our driver also knew of a place that had lovely sweaters, but we declined that offer.

The family that ran the Neptune was pretty portly. Most Maltese, in fact, seem to carry a lot of spare flesh around their waist. Which made me feel better about my own excess roll of fat in the area. It would take me a while to get one as big as the average Gozitan. Actually, if we had stayed another two weeks or so, I would have fit right in. Yesterday, I ate nothing but a salad with cottage cheese and non-fat dressing to atone. But I digress.

The family that ran the Neptune, for that was the name of the fish restaurant, was pretty portly because they obviously ate their own cooking. We had "family soup", which was a big bowl of liquid starch, all beans and pasta. But tasty. Oh yes, very tasty. Then a big plate of fish, and chips so greasy that they bottom layer was actually floating in a pool of grease. But tasty. Oh yes, very tasty. Two bottles of wine, and we decided to skip dessert. Even Maggie, who is generally in favor of dessert under all circumstances.

Instead, we poked around in souvenir shops, and Maggie and I went wading on the rocky beach. Poor Maggie managed to step in some tar, then compound matters by trying to wipe it off with her fingers before she knew what it was. That little matter sorted, we retired to-- you guessed it!-- a bar, where we sat in the sunshine, drank beer and played Cosmic Wimpout until our driver returned to take us back to the hotel to eat again. Oh, and Maggie had her belated lunchtime dessert; a vast piece of chocolate gateau. The Maltese, by the way, love frosting. Which is a Good Thing, as long as you don't plan to wear a swimsuit.

The bar, by the way, had a new type of flushing method in the bathroom, or at least one unseen by me. I collect them, you know. I'm easily amused I guess. But that was cool, too.

Then back to the hotel. Cocktails in the bar, where they brought us more cheese and sausage, which, God help us, we ate. Dinner at the fancy restaurant again, totally fantastic. More wine. Another chocolate soufflé. No cards afterward, though. We were worn out, and our poor bodies needed any and all spare energy for digestion, and we had to get up early the next morning.

To be continued....

Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion!


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