I had taken these photos back when I was laptop-less for 4+months earlier this year. It was also the last Maltese Storm I experienced before moving to London (I'm hoping to catch some on my brief return in December). There's something so magnificently apocalyptic about Maltese Storms which makes it hard to not admire them. A reward with intensity that equals months of scorching heat.
I took the above photo of Siġġiewi on Good Friday when I drove myself and my amour Sam and dear friends Jean and Tom to Laferla Cross to witness the clouds of doom blanket our 360 degree view of villages one by one. It was a visual masterpiece, although it got scary when we realised that we were stuck on top of a hill with only a giant metal cross to shelter us from the heavy rain and hailstorms. Oh an no umbrella, although with such strong winds it would have been instantly futile. After half an hour or so of being soaked in cold rain a man signaled us to a cave right underneath the hill for shelter, and so we ran (and limped, for some of us who had crutches) and joined him and a couple of bats in a cave.
That was a great day.
Fawwara and a barely-visible Filfla
The Following Afternoon, at Ħal Għargħur. Farmer's shortcut.
The excitement never ceases.