Sometimes, being a foreigner is really hard...

So, for the most part, I've really enjoyed being a foreigner in Malta. Everyone has been really kind, I seem to be able to view the annoying things as funny, and generally things are going well.

Enter Maltese bureaucracy. To be honest, I am still entirely unclear as to why I'm in Norway this weekend. Yepp, I'm in Norway. While away at a conference in Canada I received a call from the office that the Maltese police were threatening to block my re-entry to Malta, because they didn't believe that I had the right to be in the Schengen (as a result of my Norwegian work permit). Again, I'm not entirely sure what this has to do with me being in Malta, but when the police threaten to block your entry, you don't have much choice, and I rapidly changed my plans to fly to Norway instead of Malta to get proof that I was legal to be in the Schengen.

I know what you're thinking, this could have been solved by anyone at the Maltese police picking up the phone and calling Norway.... but they refused, and similarly refused to accept Norwegian documents, or anything less than an official sticker in my passport. So Friday morning at 09:00 I was queued at the police office in Ulsteinvik (yes, had to be Ulsteinvik, nothing as simple as jumping off a plane in Oslo).

In retrospect, I'm lucky that I wasn't able to shift it so that I did a fly-by in Oslo, because the police officer who I needed to submit a scan of this sticker to was "not available" on Friday.

So, the silver lining and end result is that I ended up spending a lovely weekend with my husband in Norway, all the Maltese authorities are happy that I have been obsequious enough that everything is apparently now a-ok, and I'm off to Malta tomorrow morning.

And Birkirkara wins!

When we moved to Norway, Ashley and I were amused by how popular 'football' was. It is NOTHING compared to how popular it is in Malta.

Pretty much every weekend at some point there is some yahoo driving around beeping his horn and waving his favourite club's flag out the window. This weekend was extra special, as the local club (Birkirkara) was slated to win the national championship. People have been talking about it for weeks. Children in gangs singing outside my apartment the Birkirkara pep songs. Finally, last night the big match was on, and before the game had even finished there were police ready to handle the crowds, street vendors ready to sell air horns and beer, and people all standing ready to celebrate. And as soon as birkirkara won, I witnessed these diehard supporters rushing to their vehicles to DRIVE AWAY beeping and waving flags. I assume they came back.

Oh, and right after this picture, a bus hit the red beer stand and beer flooded the street. No one was hurt, so it was just hilarious.

75% to Malta

Alright, Frank has arrived in Malta! Okay, the above photo is from the Sheraton in Brussels, where Frank retreated to the sink. He's always had a weird thing for sinks.

We arrived about 23:00 into the Luqa airport. I was a little wary about there being a vet on staff on Saturday night, and I was apparently right. However, the customs officer took charge, phoned the vet, and waved me on through.

Today's accomplishments are many so far:

1. Found a good Sunday grocery store nearby (open from 07:00 to 13:00)

2. Hung the wireless router out the second story window, so now I have wireless on the roof (fourth story)!

Obviously not a long term solution, but my internet tech/husband is arriving on Friday and I'm hoping he will wire the place up properly. It is just such a gorgeous day, I couldn't stay cooped up inside.

Frank seems to be adapting well, he is terribly skinny but he's doing his best to fatten up, including eating Maltese bugs, which he wasted no time getting down to business.

St. Patrick's day in Malta

Siezed by inspiration, I headed down to an 'Irish' bar for St. Patricks day. I have to say, while it's always nice to enjoy a pint after a long day, it wasn't very Irish. Last time I checked Bryan Adams was a Canadian shame, not Irish. I have to say, I had envisioned some jigs, sitting at a bench maybe belting out tunes I barely knew. What I experienced was overcrowded, oversmoky another-night-in-Paceville. It being a wednesday, I'm on the 22:00 bus home. Next year, I'm catching an easyjet flight to Ireland.

Airports are so timeless. I just realized it is Friday night. I'm on my way to Brussels to meet Ashley and Frank, and after an hour or so of traipsing around the airport in Rome, I've sat down to enjoy a highly overpriced (although delicious) glass of Italian red wine. 4.9 Euros. For reference I bought a bottle of wine in malta for 3.9 Euros this morning, I'm about halfway through a 5.5 hour layover so I have lots of time to muse about airports and Malta. Which brings me to this post's photo. When I arrived at the airport in Malta, there were balloons everywhere- like I'd just missed the 1000th customer. Apparently it is the launching of a new Malta airports logo. It was bizarre.

Rain rain go away....

Mediterranean islands when it rains are not fun. The roads are quite flooded, one of my patio doors leaked, and I'm fairly certain my bbq fell over in the night - not that I've checked, too rainy and miserable out. It is on the roof, and I kept having visions of a bbq plunging to it's death, but I think the railing held because I didn't find any shattered remains on the street this morning. Guess I need to buy some rope.

Cat # 1 has arrived!

Here you can see a bedraggled cat and husband finally on the ground and through customs. It was quite the fun.

The morning started off a little tough, since he was moving out of the current apartment at the same time as transporting a cat.

Step #1 On about 3 hours of sleep, he drove 15 minutes, took a 30 minute ferry, and then drove another 30 minutes or so to get to the plane.

Step #2 Washed cat in airport washroom. Ewwww.

Step # 3 Put cat on plane, boarded plane

Step # 4 Sat on runway for 1.5 hours while they plowed it of snow (missed connections for the rest of the day. Called wife in Malta so she could panic and madly telephone airlines.

Step # 5 Queued at Oslo airport to rebook (# 33 in line). No idea where the cat is at this point. (see step #7b)

Step # 6 Kept queueing - still only # 23

Step # 7a Rebooked an alternative routing. Insisted that the airline must accept the cat. SAS successfully bullied Air Malta into accepting the cat as baggage (cancelled animal handler in Dusseldorf that it took us 4 hours to book originally)

Step # 7b Realized the cat has been doing laps on the baggage belt and felt guilty.....oooops

Steps # 7-10 Took miscellaneous legs around Europe to meet the Air Malta connection in Dusseldorf, hoping the cat was still with him.

Step # 11 And finally, cat and husband arrived in Malta. Both bedraggled and exhausted, but here. The biggest impediment at the customs with the cat was the number of people who wanted to pet him.

Here's the real kicker. After all of that, our old landlord in Ulsteinvik emailed to say Frank (our other cat we haven't seen for six weeks) had shown up at the house the day after Riker was transported to Malta. So we get to do it all again!