Our first stop is in Valletta, Malta. We didn’t schedule any tours ahead of time, however the ship’s “shopping guide” told us about a city bus that loops around the perimeter of the city and back up to the city center. From there, it is all downhill through the two main streets where the majority of the shops and museums are located.
Posts Tagged ‘vacation’
Valletta, Malta
Monday, May 17th, 2010Full steam ahead!
Sunday, May 16th, 2010Today was a sea day en route from Barcelona to Malta. Seas were 4 to 8 feet according to the bridge report. At cruising speed, that translates into pretty darn rolly inside the ship.
On this itinerary, formal night is the first full day on the ship.
Up, up, and away!
Friday, May 14th, 2010
Today we left for our whirlwind tour of the Mediterranean! This is our first trip across the pond, and fortunately for us, we booked an outbound flight operated by Air France. From Atlanta to Paris, we were served a decent dinner shortly after takeoff around 5pm:
Salmon & couscous salad
Chicken & mushrooms with cream sauce, rice & vegetables
Baguette
Rice pudding
Cheese
Orange cranberry cake
It’s nothing too fancy; we were flying coach (err, “Tempo” class), but it was at least as good as any frozen meal at home. Afterwards, they basically left everyone alone for the night. About an hour and a half before landing in Paris, a light breakfast was served.
In Paris, we ran in to a small predicament, which made us very glad I had booked our flights so that there was one more flight after ours that would get us to the port on time: Apparently there was some kind of security incident right before we arrived, and at CDG, they shut down the incoming passport control station when that happens. As a result, the 400 of us who just came off our plane were stuck in a queue waiting for immigration to open up again. Fortunately, some of the French speakers in line started asking quesions of the airport employees tending the area and complaining about possibly missing connections. After the English speakers got in on the commotion, the supervisor-looking woman announced that anyone who wanted to could follow her on a 20-minute fast walk around to the terminal where our connections were. One big hussle later, against the flow of the directional signs, our agitated mob of 50 or so passengers arrived at a different, working immigration checkpoint. We made it to our gate just in time — we were the last ones on the plane.









