My daughter lived in Sliema which in many ways was not much different from Valletta. I wandered streets and along the waterfront, around to St Julian’s and Spinola Bay with two poodles on hand. It wasn’t an ideal walk with the constant flow of cars and narrow footpaths but at least the sea was visible and there were a few paths right on the water’s edge to occasionally dim the traffic noise.
Many of the houses displayed plaques of Mary, something I’d only ever seen in Ireland. That’s where the similarity ended though.
I remember standing at a street corner about to cross the road when I noticed a lamppost. It leaned at an angle since the cement used to hold it in place had crumbled. Instead of repairing it with more cement however, boards were jammed into the hole.