On Gozo time
“Pomskizillious and gromphiberous, being as no other words can describe its magnificence.” This is how the poet Edward Lear characterised the coast of Gozo after spending a holiday here walking, drawing and painting. That was in 1866, so would he still be so enamoured of Malta’s little sister island today?
Just 7km across the water from its busy, built-up, neighbour, Gozo is a world away. Rural and relaxed, it has a laidback feel that has spawned a local saying: ‘Gozo runs on GMT’. Not Greenwich Mean Time, but rather Gozo Maybe Time. The calm of this island seems to elasticize the hours. Fresh mornings merge into drowsy afternoons that blend into languid Mediterranean evenings. Everyone has time to pause for a chat in the village shop, or out on the square where older men while away the day on benches beneath the impressive façades of the island’s oversized churches.
I’ve been to Gozo many times and on each occasion, as I stand on the deck of the familiar ferry, I find myself sighing out my stresses. This time was no different. Slipping over the lapis waters of the Gozo Channel beneath a sweeping azure sky, I settled in the sun and eased myself into
