Sunburnt and Sea-soaked: My Malta Diaries
A holiday was very much needed on my cards for 2026, so we spent much of last year debating where we should jet off to. America crossed our minds frequently, but we were never really a family that fancied the big city vibe. Every destination across Europe was eventually thrown into the mix, before my sister settled on Malta as a reward for passing her GCSEs “Of course.” Anyway, I was pondering how I would spend my time on the three-and-a-half-hour flight there. What medium of entertainment would I choose? Books were the first thing that came to mind, but I knew I’d finish at least two before we even landed. My next option was Netflix – specifically BTS: THE RETURN – but alas, I was robbed. Robbed, I tell you! My mum and sister downloaded things before me, and Netflix just blared a big fat NO when I pressed download. So: books are a no. Films are a no. What else is there? Too short to sleep, too long to simply gaze out of the window.
And then I remembered.
I’m a writer!!
What better way to spend my time than to begin a diary of my holiday, so that if you—my dear reader—ever decide your next getaway is Malta, you’ll have all the tips and tricks from me, your favourite author. Right?…RIGHT?! I can’t hear you. This is a screen.
Day 1 – The Flight.
The first day was mostly travel. And last-minute packing, something I’m very good at as a master procrastinator. We were ready and out the door by 12:20, sitting on the curb looking like lost puppies until our taxi driver came and whisked us away to Manchester Airport. He was a very nice conversationalist, talking about diesel prices, money, and whatnot with my dad. Very manly things. Instead of contributing, I stared out the window and pretended I was in a 2000s movie, running away to start a new life. It always passes the time.
The airport is always a stressful process for any sane person. Passports! Luggage! Gates! People shouting a million different things at you while you internally scream and empty your pockets, trying to figure out what secret illegal item you’ve packed while sleepwalking. Now, if this wasn’t horrendous enough, I have somehow gained a streak for getting stopped at every airport I fly from. Every. Single. Time. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, I’ll be stopped on departure for both there and back!
I don’t know if it’s my height – because to be fair, if I saw a 6’2 fashionable woman strutting through an airport, I’d stop her too. But this has been happening since I was a child.
I’ve had my hands swabbed for drugs in France. I was seven.
I’ve been taken into a separate area to remove my shoes in Rhodes – which, by the way, how on earth am I hiding anything in my shoes? My feet are giant.
And today? Not only did I get stopped and told to remove my shoes, they searched my legs, made me stand in a separate machine from everyone else, AND my bag got pulled.
Yippee!
I was expecting it anyway, and when I shouted, “I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN” to my parents (who kept walking, classic), the airport staff laughed.
Winner.
Plus, the woman who searched my bag was a diva. She even complimented my cardigan.
So:
Taxi. Check.
Security. Check.
Mooch through overpriced shops while complaining. Check.
Now we’re eating in a sports bar as I enthusiastically watch every plane land and tell the nearest eight people where it’s flying to. My dad and I share spicy chicken, I scoff ribs, my sister enjoys tacos, and my mum compliments the chips repeatedly. To be fair, they were nice. Triple-cooked. We find out our gate 20 minutes before boarding, after my sister and I investigate the WHSmith book section for BTS magazines we definitely needed two copies of, record a TikTok, and take off.
I forgot how much I love flying. Even if I do close my eyes on the runway.
Piercing through the clouds, tracing chemtrails of other planes, guessing which country we’re above, it’s oddly calming. Flying to an island is especially good at night. Right now we’re over an endless sea of void. I think we’ve just passed the eastern coast of either Spain or France. Golden lights coil around invisible ravines that cut cities in half. My sister is now fully invested in Mean Girls, giving me peace and quiet. Thank god. I’ve got an extra legroom seat (yes, extra legroom, you don’t understand how life-changing this is. I am thriving. I am ascending. Literally.)
Our final descent warning has been given, turbulence isn’t too bad, and I’ll write more when we get to the hotel: coastal views, beaches, pools, the lot.
Ugh. Get me my martini.
My tips for Day 1 ~ Travel
Get a flight tracker app. I beg you.
Wear clothes that are easy to remove and not clunky.
Take off jewellery before security if you want to zip through.
Fast track is only useful in peak summer; it often just drops you into the same queue just halfway through. Not worth it otherwise.
You can bring food in your hand luggage. (Current mood: eating chocolate mid-flight like a champion.)
Day Two
Last night was… an eye-opener. The airport is on the opposite side of the island to where we are staying, so we hired a taxi service to take us there. Me being aware that Malta could very well be influenced by the driving tactics of the Italians not too far away, I braced. And I needed to.
We took back roads and hills that felt like we were in the middle of nowhere, and I learned last night that they don’t really follow speed limits or lane markings. It’s nothing short of a free-for-all, but hey, we made it in one piece, and it felt like a rollercoaster so I’m not complaining. We slept peacefully after that, after making more TikTok’s. I don’t know why my parents thought it best to put my sister and me in a room unsupervised.
Waking up to a rain-free sky felt beautiful: crystal clear blue for miles. We headed down for the buffet breakfast, where I rediscovered my love for salami and cheese in the morning, before going in search of the nearest stop to Valletta. First lesson of the day was that buses don’t run as frequently in the morning as they do later on, so we opted for a taxi – also called Bolt – into the centre. Our driver was very chatty, and he told us everything we needed to know for the holiday ahead. Thank you, Mark. We appreciate you.
Valletta was breathtaking to say the least. Winding city streets dipped and rose like the tide hitting the shore just beyond, with a constant sense of the sea nearby. Every turn you took led you down another alleyway; it honestly felt like a maze, but somehow, we always ended back up on the main street. Just outside the city gates, we passed Triton’s Fountain. This huge, dramatic bronze sculpture of three mythological sea gods holding up a basin, almost like they’re physically lifting the city itself out of the water. It sits right by the entrance to Valletta as a theatrical welcome, and apparently, it was restored fairly recently after decades of weathering and damage, which makes it feel even more striking in person. There were hundreds of shops I could spend a day in, some I knew, most I didn’t.
We unfortunately had to make a stop in M&S to grab me a new pair of shoes through, as while packing my suitcase I had the genius idea to bring one pair of unbroken white leather shoes and nothing else I paid the price for that today. So, with my feet in bits, we ran/hobbled up to the men’s section and grabbed me the softest pair of trainers I’ve ever felt.
Now with a new pep in my step, I was eager to find every nook and cranny, every shop I’d seen in my research. First on my hit list was Spar. Yes, you read that right. Spar – the shop we have in the UK. Why, might you ask? Well, let me tell you. Imagine the glory of a Lidl bakery, amplify that by 100, and add professional decorators. What do you get? The Valletta Spar bakery doughnuts. We spent at least 30 minutes choosing. Each doughnut was bigger than my hand, and I wanted to try every one. I eventually settled for a Kinder doughnut, while my sister went for a Nutella biscuit. We then found our parents sitting outside on some steps, and I’ll happily say that was the easiest and best €3.50 I’ve ever spent.
Bellies full, next on our list was St John’s Co-Cathedral. I’ve always been an art admirer and, having already stopped in another museum on the way, I was raring to go. Inside, we saw the story of St John displayed everywhere, accompanied by an electronic guided tour you can access on your phone. From huge paintings adorned in gold on the walls, to the entire ceiling depicting his life in intricate detail, everything felt overwhelming in the best way. If it wasn’t St John, it was Caravaggio. The accidental murderer turned artist, turned knight, turned prison escapee. His life was beautifully chaotic, and every painting was so realistic I genuinely felt like the figures might step out of the frame and speak to me. My mum and I found a secluded film room that showed his life – his inspiration, his crimes, his knighthood, everything. We left feeling inspired, and as soon as we got back to the hotel, I couldn’t stop myself from researching him more. And yes, I got my martini. And it was gorgeous.
My tips for Day 2 ~ Valletta Pt. 1
Bring comfortable shoes (learn from me).
Don’t take a Polaroid camera through X-ray machines—it ruins the film :(
Get a Tallinja Explore Flex card at the airport so you don’t have to pay every time you get on the bus.
Make a list of places you want to visit in Valletta, because it’s easy to get lost in the scenery and not actually see anything.
If you can, set aside two days for Valletta, it’s worth it.
Decide if you’re more of a museum person or shop person; there’s enough of to fill a whole day easily.
Eat a heavy breakfast. Many restaurants looked touristy, so it’s easier to fuel up early, grab a doughnut from Spar for lunch, and eat properly in the evening.
Bring suncream. The stone walls in Valletta trap the heat, and the sun hits hard.
Day Three
Today we went back into Valetta with something we didn’t have yesterday. A plan. A proper itinerary. Structured behaviour. Honestly, it felt slightly unnatural.
After filling up on pancakes and chocolate at the hotel breakfast (which I’m fairly sure is what fuels all successful tourism), we hopped on the bus and headed back into the capital. After researching last night, I found that Valletta is one of the smallest capital cities in Europe, but it’s also one of the most densely packed with history – built by the Knights of St John in the 1500s after the Great Siege of Malta in 1565. So basically, everywhere you walk has seen at least four dramatic historical events and probably a war or two.
First stop: Hastings Gardens.
These gardens sit right on the edge of Valetta’s fortifications, overlooking Marsamxett Harbour and Sliema across the water. They’re named after Francis Hastings, a former British Governor of Malta in the early 20th Century, which explains the slightly colonial feel in the air. It’s quieter than other viewpoints, and you get this strange contrast of calm greenery and brutal military stone walls just a few meters apart. It felt like the city couldn’t quite decide if it wanted to be peaceful or defensive.
From there, we attempted to go to the Lascaris War Rooms, which I was genuinely excited for. These underground tunnels were used during World War II as Britain’s command centre for the defence of Malta, especially during the intense Axis bombing campaign. Churchill himself apparently referred to Malta as an “unsinkable aircraft carrier.” Unfortunately, they were closed (because it was a Sunday), which felt historically appropriate in the most inconvenient way possible.
So, instead, we regrouped and walked to the Upper Barrakka Gardens.
These are probably the most famous gardens in Valletta, built on top of the city’s bastions in the 1600s by the Knights. They overlook the Grand Harbour, which is one of the most important natural harbours in the Mediterranean. You also get the famous Saluting Battery underneath, where cannons are still fired daily at noon and 4pm as a tradition dating back to British rule. We, however, tried to see cannons on a Sunday… which is apparently not when cannons feel like working. Still, the view was unreal. You can see the Three Cities opposite (Vittoriosa, Senglea, and Cospicua), all packed with limestone buildings that glow gold in the sun. It genuinely looks like a film set.
Next, we wandered to the Grandmaster’s Palace, which was once the seat of the Knights of St John and is now the President’s office. Inside, it’s full of armour, tapestries, and political history layered on top of centuries of rule. It’s one of those places where you realise Malta has been passed between empires like a hot potato. Arabs, Knights, French, British, and now independence in 1964.
After that, we drifted through St Lucia Street, which felt like the softer, more local side of Valletta, less monumental, more lived-in. There’s something nice about stepping away from the grand buildings and seeing everyday life tucked between the limestone. Lunch was at Caffè Cordina, which has been around since 1837. It originally started as a tearoom and pastry shop and now sits right in Republic Square, surrounded by the National Library and law courts. It’s “sit outside and pretend you are important” energy, which we fully embraced.
We got rose-shaped ice cream, which apparently has roots in Maltese confectionery traditions influenced by Mediterranean floral flavours. My sister and I both voted for mango sorbet and chocolate, a flavour combination I’ll defend for all time. What a perfect way to end our day!
My tips for Day 3 ~ Valletta Pt. 2
Valletta is small but historically dense. Everything has context, so take your time.
Upper Barrakka Gardens is best at midday when the cannons fire.
Lascaris War Rooms are a must-look ahead, don’t rely on hope like we did.
Caffè Cordina is perfect for a sit-down break in the middle of sightseeing chaos.
Valletta is built on layers of history, look down as much as you look up.
The ice-cream is so worth it!
Day 4
Today we went to Mdina, the old capital of Malta, also known as the “Silent City”, which sounds poetic until you realise it is literally silent. Mdina dates back over 4,000 years, with origins in Phoenician and Roman settlements, later fortified by Arabs and then rebuilt under Norman rule. It sits on a hill in the centre of the island, which made it strategically important for defence, and now just makes it look like a fantasy city floating above the landscape.
We entered through the Mdina Main Gate, which you might recognise from Game of Thrones (the king’s landing scenes were filmed here). And honestly, it does look like somewhere you’d immediately get accused of treason just for walking too confidently, but that didn’t stop me.
First stop was the Museum of Torture, directly to the right, which was… an experience. It displays medieval and early modern torture devices used across Europe during the inquisitions and legal punishments. It is fascinating in a deeply uncomfortable way, and you leave feeling like humanity has not always been on its best behaviour. From there, we went into Vilhena Palace Square, named after Grand Master António Manoel de Vilhena, who rebuilt Mdina in the 18th century in Baroque style after an earthquake. The square feels frozen in time, quiet, pale stone everywhere, and almost no sound except footsteps.
Next was St Paul’s Cathedral, built on the site where tradition says the Roman governor Publius met St Paul after his shipwreck on Malta. The cathedral is huge inside, covered in beautiful marble, gold leaf, and painted ceilings that feel almost overwhelming in scale. This was one of my favourite places to visit!
Then we walked Mdina’s silent streets properly. No cars are allowed inside the old city walls, so it’s just narrow limestone alleyways, wooden doors, and very few people. It’s eerie in a calm way, like the city is paused rather than empty.
Lunch was at Fontanella Tea Gardens which was recommended to us by a friend, which sits right on the bastions. The chocolate cake here is slightly legendary in Malta tourism circles, massive, rich, and insane in portion size. You should probably share it between two people, but I devoured mine with my Cadbury’s hot chocolate all to myself. We also saw remnants of Roman walls and explored Mdina Gardens, which sit just outside the main city and give a softer contrast to the heavy stone architecture.
My tips for Day 4 ~ Mdina
Mdina is best in the early morning or late afternoon for atmosphere and to avoid heavy crowds.
It’s called the Silent City, respect the quiet, it’s part of the experience.
Game of Thrones fans will recognise several spots instantly.
The Museum of Torture is interesting but heavy, pace yourself.
Fontanella chocolate cake is not optional.
Bring water. Mdina is hotter and stiller than other areas.
Day 5
Today we went to The Point in Sliema, which is one of Malta’s main modern shopping centres. Four floors of designer shops, cafés, and the universal experience of pretending you’re “just browsing.”
Sliema itself is one of Malta’s more modern coastal towns, heavily developed during British rule and now a major residential and commercial area. It contrasts massively with places like Mdina and Valletta, with glass buildings, promenades, and ferries constantly crossing the harbour.
The shopping centre felt almost surreal because just outside it, you can still see old limestone arches and remnants of fortifications dating back centuries. It’s like Malta refuses to fully let go of its past, even while building Zara and River Island next to it.
It was also extremely windy. Not just “a bit breezy”, proper, aggressive Mediterranean wind that makes you question your life choices and hairstyle simultaneously. Of course this was the day I decided to wear mine down. We had another Amorino rose ice cream, which at this point became a holiday requirement. They were so pretty for something we were about to aggressively eat.
Later, we went back to the hotel pool, where I was briefly reminded that I do not, in fact, have strong swimming abilities at all. I entered confidently and exited looking like a drowned rat. It still counts as exercise, right?
My tips for Day 5 ~ Sliema
The Point is good for shopping but easy to lose track of time in.
Maltese wind is not a breeze, it is a force.
Amorino gelato is always worth it (even if you “weren’t planning to”).
Sliema is best for contrast: modern shops + historic coastline nearby.
Don’t overestimate your swimming ability after a long day of walking.
Day 6
Today I was officially taken out by Malta.
Not metaphorically. Not dramatically. Just fully and clinically defeated by a migraine and a combination of too many steps, too much sun, and possibly my body demanding payment for previous poor life choices.
We had been averaging around 20,000 steps a day, which sounds impressive until you realise it is just “walking until your feet stop cooperating and your brain starts buffering.” So today my body simply said: no. Biggest tip I have learned the hard way: drink water. Constantly. Religiously. Like it is your only job.
While I stayed in recovery mode (aka horizontal existence), my parents went out exploring, so this day is partly mine, partly “field notes from parents and a sister who refuse to waste a holiday.”
But first, some context for Malta itself, because even resting days still feel like you’re in a country that refuses to be boring. Malta is one of the most densely populated countries in the world, but also one of the smallest. Because of this, everything is layered. History sits on top of history. Neolithic temples older than the pyramids coexist with British naval architecture and modern tourist infrastructure. It’s a timeline you can physically walk through, which explains why my brain eventually gave up and requested a migraine as a factory reset.
My parents’ main recommendation of the day was returning to Valletta and Lascaris War Rooms – this time actually open, unlike our Sunday heartbreak.
The Lascaris War Rooms are underground tunnels built into the limestone beneath the Upper Barrakka area. During WWII, this was the Allied command centre coordinating the defence of Malta during relentless Axis bombing campaigns. The island was one of the most heavily bombed places during the war, and yet it held out, earning the George Cross (the only country to be awarded this!) from King George VI in 1942.
Apparently, the War Rooms are incredible: maps still on the walls, original communication rooms, plotting tables, and the feeling that everything important once happened underground while the surface was being destroyed. My parents also mentioned the cannons again (which I am starting to think have a personal vendetta against me). These are the Saluting Battery cannons at Upper Barrakka, fired daily as a tradition dating back to British rule.
They also stopped at Cheeky Monkey Pub, which sounds like it should be a children’s cartoon but is actually a very casual local spot in Valletta. Malta’s pub culture is heavily influenced by British presence, so you get this strange mix of Mediterranean setting with very familiar pub energy.
Meanwhile, I remained in a state of recovery, drinking water and pretending I was not missing out on anything (I was absolutely missing out on everything). But I ordered room service and ate the most amazing burger and chips ever; it was heavenly, and it jump-started the end of my migraine, so I’m grateful!
There is something strange about travel illness days. You’re still technically in paradise, but your entire world shrinks to a bed, curtains half-closed, and the distant sound of life happening outside.
Still, even from rest mode, Malta doesn’t really disappear. You can hear the wind against limestone walls, church bells echoing across towns, and the general hum of a place that has been continuously inhabited for thousands of years.
So yes. Migraine day. Not glamorous. But educational in its own way.
My tips for Day 6 ~ Recovery & Parents’ Diary
Drink water before you think you need it, not after.
Don’t underestimate step count fatigue in hot countries; it builds up.
Lascaris War Rooms are genuinely one of the best historical sites in Valletta.
Valletta rewards revisits; you notice new things every time.
Malta sun + walking = “You are not immortal, please sit down.”
Day 7
Today was a full return to function, and we packed in what I can only describe as a “final stretch tourism sprint.”
First stop: Malta Aviation Museum. Yippee!
This is located in Ta’ Qali, which used to be a British RAF airfield during WWII. Malta’s strategic position in the Mediterranean meant it was a key military base for controlling air and sea routes between Europe and North Africa. The museum itself houses aircraft from different eras, including WWII planes that played roles during the siege of Malta.
Even if you’re not particularly into aviation, it’s fascinating just seeing the scale of the aircraft and reading how heavily Malta was involved in wartime strategy. There’s something surreal about standing in a country so small, but it played such a large role in global conflict.
Next: Malta Chocolate Factory. A significantly more emotionally stabilising stop.
Malta has a strong tradition of confectionery influenced by Mediterranean trade routes –almonds, citrus, honey, and spices all feature heavily in traditional sweets. The chocolate factory leaned into that heritage while also doing what chocolate factories do best: overwhelming you with samples and making you consider buying things you absolutely do not need but suddenly cannot live without.
Then we moved on to the WWII Maltese shelters in Mellieħa.
These air raid shelters are carved directly into the rock beneath the town. During WWII, Maltese civilians spent huge amounts of time underground due to constant bombing raids. Walking through them is eerie but powerful, you see how entire communities adapted to survival conditions, carving out rooms, corridors, and communal spaces beneath their homes.
It’s one of those places that shifts your understanding of the island. Malta isn’t just scenic. It has lived through sustained hardship and still stands fully present and alive.
After that, we went to Bugibba Bay / St Paul’s area.
This part of the island feels much more relaxed and tourist-friendly compared to Valletta or Mdina. Bugibba is part of St Paul’s Bay, named after the shipwreck of the Apostle Paul, which is one of the foundational stories in Maltese Christian history. The waterfront here is more modern. Cafés, promenades, and sea views that feel like a soft reset after heavier historical sites.
We spent the evening just walking along the coast, which felt like a nice contrast to the intensity of earlier days.
My tips for Day 7 ~ mixed exploration day
The Aviation Museum is more interesting than it sounds, please give it a chance.
Chocolate Factory is a dangerous place for self-control.
WWII shelters are emotionally heavy but worth it.
Malta’s history is not abstract. It’s physically carved into the landscape.
Bugibba is great for winding down after intense sightseeing days.
Balance heavy historical sites with lighter coastal walks.
Day 8 – Home
Home :(
There is no elegant way to write this. Just the slow emotional descent back into reality.
We left the hotel early, which is always a slightly surreal experience, packing up a space that has become normal for a week, knowing you’re about to swap it for airport queues and overpriced sandwiches. Malta Airport (Luqa Airport, officially Malta International Airport) is the country’s only airport. It’s efficient and compact, so that means no running miles if your gate changes at the last minute.
The journey back always feels faster, even though it is not. Flights home compress time emotionally; you are still in the same physical process, but your brain has already left the holiday.
Before boarding, I made one final and very important decision.
I bought a box of mqaret.
Mqaret are traditional Maltese sweets. Diamond-shaped pastries filled with dates, often flavoured with orange blossom or anise, then deep-fried. They are sold at markets and festivals, especially in older towns, and are one of those foods that taste like the place itself. Sweet, slightly spiced, and deeply comforting. I had one on the second day and immediately knew I could not leave Malta without them. So I didn’t.
The flight home was quiet in that “everyone is tired and emotionally processing the end of a trip” way. There’s always a strange mix of gratitude and sadness – scrolling through photos that already feel slightly distant, like they belong to another version of you.
And then suddenly you’re back. Home.
Same air. Same routines. Same everything.
But slightly changed.
Because Malta stays in your head a bit longer than you expect.
My tips for Day 8 ~ departure
Always buy edible souvenirs. Always.
Pack your suitcase with “future you” in mind, not “present panic you.”
Malta Airport is small. Don’t overcomplicate your timing.
Mqaret are worth it. End of discussion.
Expect post-holiday sadness. It is normal and mildly inevitable.
Take one last mental picture before you leave. Actual memory, not phone-based.