Quicksand

Quicksand

Like quicksand it rapidly grows, spreading to different corners getting messier as its surface area increases. A slosh of bodies mix, a stench of beer and sweat engulfs the area while cigarette smoke creates a foggy haze. Heat radiates out of the epicenter and the stench intensifies.

As each minute passes more bodies are swallowed, dragged in effortlessly as they struggle to maintain balance and are powerless to the moshpit's suction power and strength. Heads bang, bodies smash, backs collide as limps tangle and digits tumble on each other. The world spins in motion creating a washing machine effect as more bodies tumble and spin, getting more soaked as each revolution is completed.

As confusion sets in, the guitarist still strokes his chords and yells rhyming lyrics through the microphone, pumping our brains with all sorts of indie and ska tunes. Our feet lose control as we move to the ever hanging beat. Some call it dancing; others simply call it muckin’ about. Each song pumps more energy into our veins and increases the levels of adrenaline running through our sweaty bodies.

The brief pauses only serve as a pit stop to refuel our engines and find our place on the grid. More chords are struck and drums are beat, and more bodies fly in the quicksand, gaining velocity with each beat and verse. The moshpit spares no victims, as beer cans serve as fountain bases showering everyone in warm, sticky lager. Our bodies are coated in a layer of thick glue and our surviving clothes stick themselves to our backs.

The rifffs, dolls for idols and no snow also are at fault. One amazing song after the other, maintaining a unique vibe that can only be enjoyed by a select few. Despite being surrounded by strangers one is not alone as each soul is tuned into the same wave and each brain is in sync with the beat and music created by the masters on stage. And what masters, we idolize them for one evening wishing each song would never end and the night can last forever.

The rain of beer is ever continuous and re hydrates us in every ironic way possible. The group is in harmony, and any fallen soldier is quickly hoisted back to his feet to carry on his round of spinning and charging. Each cell is re charged after each wave and in this world is every man to himself. Survival of the fittest at its best, the power of local indie music.

Ancient Postcard

Ancient Postcard

The majestic city of Valetta is fast approaching. The massive fortified walls, sculpturesque churches, red and white flags, impenetrable gates overlooked by menacing gun posts guarding deep shelters and vast labyrinths of complicated streets carved out of strong, white stones.

I feel like a foreign invader as I stroke my way through the water on my single, small and insignificant canoe. From this distance the city looks well protected and safe. The red and white flag reminds me that someone else owns the city, a force far bigger than mine. Surrounded by nothing but dark blue water I feel lost as I float with my feet stretched and my hands behind my head. Valetta looks far from welcoming as the gun posts glare at me, and the bastions ensure no one can enter the bowels of the ancient city. Fort St Elmo stands proudly at the point of Mt. Sciberras, keeping a watchful eye out for any intruders or unwelcomed people. Valletta looks static and calm, but as the history books recall, it is a bomb ready to go off and can be turned into a battling ram within minutes as it explodes to life with a collage of colour, smoke and fire while lead cannon balls plummet to earth from the height of massive walls so high birds make homes in its cracks.

Each stroke I take takes me closer, and as I paddle away reality hits me. The grand harbor, whose depths are unknown to man, separates me from the beautiful city. The guns have been silenced for years and the gates and bastions make for good museums. The only explosion of action one will see today is during the tradition Festa’, and instead of angry Knights keeping you safe, you are welcomed and comforted by a platoon of warm and loving locals, ready to offer a cold drink on your arrival into their beautiful ancient homes, passed on from generation to the next since Grandmaster La Valette’s commission.

The hustle and bustle of Malta’s capital can’t be detected from here. Not one car is visible on the road, only waves of heat licking the surface creating a haze which makes reality hard to accept or locate adding to the mystical nature of the world’s most beautiful city. The gun posts are empty apart from the barman and a few local punters ready to share a pint and recall great stories of the city as it survived war after war after war. A karozzin shows itself through the haze and the red and white flag blows proudly in the wind, boasting pride as each corner dances in the strong Mediterranean breeze.

The curved churches’ roof tops offer a picturesque landscape and add a pink balance to the scene and the high catholic crosses send out a strong message. No technology is visible, besides the rusted barrels of loud guns, and carved out holes for gun men wanting to warn off foreign invaders. The beautiful city lies in fine force on this blistering day where the sun will leave no prisoners.

The view from my canoe is intimidating as the tall walls stare down on the deep blue sea and soon time tells me to make my way back, ready to enjoy another beautiful Mediterranean evening with my comrades on the beach, living the life left possible buy our brave and cunning ancestors, many of which laid their life for our joy and benefits.

Mardy Bum

Well now then Mardy Bum
I've seen your frown
And it's like looking down the barrel of a gun
And it goes off
And out come all these words
Oh there's a very pleasant side to you
A side I much prefer
It's one that laughs and jokes around
Remember cuddles in the kitchen
Yeah, to get things off the ground
And it was up, up and away
Oh, but it's right hard to remember
That on a day like today when you're all argumentative
And you've got the face on

Well now then Mardy Bum
Oh I'm in trouble again, aren't I
I thought as much
Cause you turned over there
Pulling that silent disappointment face
The one that I can't bear

Why can't we just laugh and joke around
Remember cuddles in the kitchen
Yeah, to get things off the ground
And it was up, up and away
Oh, but it's right hard to remember
That on a day like today when you're all argumentative
And you've got the face on

And yeah I'm sorry I was late
but I missed the train
And then the traffic was a state
And I can't be arsed to carry on in this debate
That reoccurs, oh when you say I don't care
but of course I do, yet I clearly do!

So laugh and joke around
Remember cuddles in the kitchen
Yeah, to get things off the ground
And it was up, up and away
Oh, but it's right hard to remember
That on a day like today when you're all argumentative
And you've got the face on

Blabbin

Blabbin’

It’s been a rather uneventful week here in mark-land. The week sees me work an 8.30 – 5.30 daily shift at EF language school where I teach English to foreigners. Fun as it may be, working till 5.30 and at times 7 takes it out of you easily.

Despite that, good news was flying in from everywhere this week which kept my spirits on an all time high as not only did me Eddy and Pravin book our tickets to Morocco, but Ruthie passed her flying exams, and did extremely well!

Tuesday saw me embark on a wicked journey as I tuned into the Arctic Monkeys for the very first time. Needless to say, they are a decent group, and songs like Mardy Bum, 505 and When the Sun Goes Down rank high on my playlist. Some wicked tunes for the summer, as the temperatures soar to above 40 this weekend here in Mala.

Ruthie’s results were excellent and certainly prove that hard work makes anything possible. Her being away was never going to be easy, but grades like those show there is light at the end of a very, very long tunnel. More exams coming up in 3 months, best of luck to my baby.

One of my longest standing dreams has always been to travel to Africa. Africa has always fascinated me in any way, and has been my holy grail since I was young. A month ago, eddy and pravin offered me the chance to join them in a trip down to Morocco, and there was no way I could say no to that. Morocco seems to have a bit f everything: the Atlantic, the Atlas Mountains, the African Desert, plenty of markets and the list goes on and on. This really is going to be the summer of my dreams, sky diving, a holiday with Ruth and morocco are things that could be on anyone’s bucket list.

The trip will start on Saturday the 17^th September when me and the boys will jet off to Madrid, where a rental car will be waiting for us to take us down to Gibraltar, south of Spain. From there we will hop onto a ferry and finally arrive at our first destination: Tangier, north Morocco. It’s anyone’s guess what step is next, and I certainly look forward to planning the holiday of a lifetime. Bring on Morocco.

Prior to the trip, Ruthie will make her way down to Malta for my birthday weekend. Sadly she won’t be here on my actual birthday, and it’s the first time we will be apart for the last 5 or so years. Her coming has always given me something to look forward to, and lots of things are in the pipelines for her summer holiday down here.

Perhaps the most curious night of the week had to be our trip to the cinema on Wednesday as a whole group of us decided to scar our brains and watch Sacha Baron Cohen’s latest Bruno. I still have disturbing mental images flashing through my mind from time to time…

All that would be classified as uneventful, but being the weekend, the real stuff will soon kick off. A decent Friday night saw us head down to the beach for an early morning dip, and today I will do another thing I’ve always wanted to do: canoeing. Strangely enough, I’ve never sat ina canoe and I look forward to an action packed afternoon, followed by eddy’s party Puro, which kicks off at 7 o’clock tonight.

An exciting weekend awaits, but my sights are currently set on the end of august when ruthie finally flies down, and on the end of September, when a dream of mine will finally come true.