Stone upon stone: an Italian sojourn: On this rock: Gozo

We woke to leaden skies, and rain this morning. Which is evidently not unusual in Malta, winter being their rainy season when this dry rocky island becomes seasonally clothed in green, but the newspapers had been decrying it was too long since it last rained, so this was a welcome relief. But a blow for we tourists of course. We had one vote for staying at home and going back to bed, another for doing indoor activities; then me: suggesting we go outdoors as we had hoped when the weather was fair, to the island of Gozo, which we could circle in an open air bus.

That met with much skepticism but in the end that prevailed -- the rationale being that by the time we got to the island -- it would take an hour -- the chance of rain disappearing by then should be high. Also we could stay dryer in buses than we might going in and out of museums. I found an umbrella in the hall cupboard and off we floated, like Mary Poppins with her charges, to find the fastest bus to get us across the entire island to the ferry that would then take us across to Gozo, the second largest island in the Maltese archipelago.

And, given its very famous UNESCO listed temple ruins which is the whole aim of our visit today, very likely the first part of Malta ever settled.

Bus fares in Malta are a flat €1.50 a trip no matter the distance, which come with additional transfer time of 3 or more hours, if needed. Such a great deal. We covered the entire island on that fare, from Sliema to the Cirkewwa ferry, which took an hour, and the bus took the stunning coastal route that allowed us to see all the new settlements on the waterfront, and the older ones on defensive hills pocketed throughout the island. Some suburbs, like ours, are quite British, with Marks & Spencers sitting beside Costa coffee along a High street. Others look more Spanish with their decorative balconies and hidden courtyards and tight hugging streets; some are very Arabic: all blocky, flat-roofed, and very square, tumbling down hill to the sea in layers, sand-coloured in the earthy pigments from which the material to build them came. The names on passing signposts, too, kept us enthralled: Ix-Xitajta ta' Bugibba, Mellieha, Ħal Għargħur. So much to yet understand.

The ferry was smooth and quick and passed another less inhabited island in the archipelago, enroute: Comino. Long ago, this used to be a pirate haunt and a place to be avoided. Pirates who once plundered the Mediterranean would stop here to fill the amphora in their galleys with spring water. Such has been the effect of that that only three people live here, even now.

The sun was shining in patches for much of the day once we reached Gozo. We climbed aboard a bus that took us all over the island, and sat atop in the open air to catch the best views. The island is tiny about sixteen miles by eight, at most. The first impression is that there are church spires wherever you turn. And that impression continues as you move inland, then around the coast. Every little hill seems to have a tumble-down village and at least one church, often with intricate stone work, or stunning dome, or picturesque steeple piercing the sky.

As with Malta, Gozitan villages rest on a bed of rock, that burrows deep into the core of the earth.

From the earth comes the homes, the roads, the stacked stone boundary fences, the retaining walls that hold back the sea, even the decorative garden edges.

Why pay for something that comes free, from under your feet. We passed limestone quarries in more remote parts, so could see the stone being pulled from the earth and cut neatly into pieces. Such a beautiful colour, too.

The island's fields are filled with fruit and vegetables growing in what looks to be dry grit. The produce gardens were amazing. Canes growing in moist hollows were harvested and used as boundary fences and windbreaks for the gardens. They were also split and stitched and used as roller blinds for external doors and windows by the islanders. Cheap. Available. Sustainable.

Which pretty much sums up Gozo. The island feels very authentic. Locals fish for their lunch and dinner with a sparse rod and hook from the rocks. A farmer, scrabbling in his gritty field, is hand watering his greens with a hose, backs are bent over the produce in many fields as they have done day after day for thousands of years.

The churches are the extravagant sights on the island. Amazing effort and expense has gone into building some of them. One of them, the Basilica of the Blessed Virgin Of Ta' Pinu Santwarju tao-madonna, was in such poor state that it was listed for destruction by the church, the parish to be moved elsewhere. But, as is the way, on these little islands, the first day of demolition, and the first blow to the building a workmen was injured. And that was an omen. After that, no one would destroy it. Then came the 1880s and a local lady walking past the decaying church heard a voice asking her to say three Hail Marys. A miracle, no less. More miracles were recorded and before long the church is on a list somewhere to renovate. The power of piety. Today it draws crowds as never before, who hear the tales and think it beautiful.

Just metres away might be a stunning Blue Lagoon or an Azure Window rock and wave formation that has just fallen that attracts hoards of tourists by boat or by bus, and they don't even lift their heads. They see it every day. This is their back yard.

On many jutting points around the island are watch towers. This one the Dwerja tower, was built to keep an eye out on plunderers and pirates. A cautious group, the Gozitans, and well they may be. Long ago in medieval times locals were required to return to the Citadella on the hill at night -- which operated somewhat like a castle protecting the inhabitants behind strong walls, and somewhat like a fortress, where arms were kept when needed. Turkish invaders were wily, though. In 1551, when they were pushing to capture Malta, but failed -- instead, and in retaliation, they captured the entire Gozitan population, bundled them into ships and sold them off as slaves. Suspicion still runs deep.

The Dwerja tower, too, was put to good use by the Knights Hospitallers. A fungus grew on a rock just out to sea not far from the tower site, off the Gozo coast. It was vile smelling, putrid even; but the knights deemed it medicinal and used it to cure many ailments, proclaiming its effects. This was the only place it grew. The rock came to be called Fungus Rock. And just like ivory, which became so sought after and therefore so expensive to get, the fungus from the rock became a prize to acquire. Folk came by horse, foot and boat from all parts, ready to clamber the rock for this priceless remedy. But the knights quickly prohibited its possession, and put a stern guard in the Dwerja tower in order to discourage any plunderers who might deplete their stock.

Our last port of call, and the reason we were visiting Gozo in the first place, was the religious temple site of Ġgantija, or the Giant's Temples as the folk tales of Gozo call them in the telling. And not just any old giant, a giantess, it is said, who lived on nothing but broad beans and honey, then fell pregnant to a local. With the child hugging her back she built these temples with her bare hands. So it was told.

It is a more likely tale that the folk who built these temples were boat people who came from across the water, settled here, and built their clover leaf temples stone upon local stone. Amazing structure, one of the oldest man-made structures in the world, considering that metal was not in use yet. It is believed that these monolithic stones were moved on a bed of rolling stone to get them into place and then to fashion them.

Some have holes near doorways: their function still not known. Some have massive lintels and door stone steps, smoothed and shaped. Some have decorated altar niches, with tiled backgrounds and walls that may have been rendered with a pigmented plaster. Built 5,500 years ago. That is a lot of broad beans.

But this site reinforced one thing for us: religion has been the prime mover on these islands since they were first settled. Religious buildings are the biggest, the most luxurious, they are where locals have expended the most effort.