Today was even greyer, and rainier than yesterday, albeit in light soft showers that were not going to drown any of us, so, just like yesterday we chose the mainly outdoor option on our bucket list, visiting the stone age Ħaġar Qim temples over on the west coast of Malta. So wonderful was our temple visit yesterday, we wanted more of the same.
It was Saturday, and we still have not found time to find a Tourist Information Centre for a decent Malta map, or a bus map; and we still have to buy a SIM to work one of our devices, for online ease. As we rush out the door we sometimes remember to ask Google transit how to get there and make a note of the suggestions. Otherwise we just wing it, and try to read the signs at the bus stop. Today, we did not think to make a note of how far apart the bus connections were. In hindsight, we might have taken all day just to get there, but, as ever, our luck held and the three busses did connect, within minutes, tho' between the second and the third we arrived five minutes after our onward bus supposedly had left according to the posted timetable at the bus stop -- an hour till the next, this being a remote route and a Saturday to boot. In the rain, not clear about the direction, not sure we were even in the right place, without water, without a snack, and with only a single umbrella if we needed it, we started walking. West, still. We plodded on. Adventurous yet. But, as luck would have it we'd barely gone three hundred metres when the bus -- late, luckily -- rolled up behind us. We waved madly, shouted, jumped up and down -- and, of course, he noticed, and grinned. The lovely man gestured that he would stop just in front of us where he could pull in safely so we might hop on. One of the good bus guys. He took us right to the site and the beauty of travelling this time of the year is that there were barely a handful of folk there for much of the day. We virtually had the site to ourselves.
Ħaġar Qim ( pronounced Har-jar-eem) sits on a gorgeous hill overlooking the sea to the west. Today it is covered in canvas to protect it, but even the birds are happy here: amidst the quiet and the stillness and the peace, and the sense that something special took place here, lovely birdsong accompanied us as we explored.
This temple was built by neolithic man more than five thousand years ago. Down the hill, joined by a walking path between the two, is a similar temple complex: Mnajdra. My guess is, as with other stone age sites we have visited such as Skara Brae in the Orkneys, that there may have been a grand ceremonial path between the two sites, though there is no evidence of that today. For so long before they were uncovered the earth had nearly reclaimed both of these sites: people had forgotten they were there.
Each--both--are simply amazing. How a people without pencils, hammers or pulleys could think to fashion such massive slabs of stone from nearby cliffs is so awe-inspiring it keeps us agog each time we see any such site. One of the stones in one of these temples is a single piece some 6.40 metres long and weighs 20 tonnes. Did they ever stop to think this might be too heavy? We might not make it with this one? How motivated they must have been. What on earth drove them?
They, then, had to move these temple stones such vast distances with harsh rock, stone and hilly terrain all around them, then set them into precise places with such infinite care, then decorate them in the most minute and exquisite detail, then fill the temple spaces with statuettes of their gods or goddesses: the famous fat-bottomed figurines of indeterminate sex on altars and niches throughout.
How many of them did it take to finish the build? How long did it take? Did they use slaves to do the work? Or did everyone pitch in? The women? The children? The old folk? We have so many questions yet. We can only wonder.
As we walked back along the path between the complexes we noticed, even here, visitors long to leave their mark, autographing the prickly pear hedge enroute between the two megalithic temple complexes. And even the wee snail needs to leave his silver trail on our walking path while the soft rain allows it.
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| The terrain here is all stone |
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| Today, the soft limestone pieces are being protected under a canvas cover. This is being monitored for effectiveness in preservation. This awesome square entrance with heavily blocked lintel is one of the build features. |
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| Using stone upon stone they turned stone into art. |
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| This is the monster stone. It dwarfed us. Blood, sweat and tears. |
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| So perfectly positioned in this temple pod: this stone first, this second, then this. But overall, it must have been a complex mathematical procedure, a giant headache |
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| Fat bottomed goddesses. Many goddesses have been found with no heads, but still with a niche where a head might be fitted. |
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| This blocky pedestal altar is decorated with what looks like palm leaves. Chipped away with bone most likely, or possibly sharpened stone. |
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| Beautiful decorative altar piece. Simple. Elegant. Art. |
Even today most engineers would cringe at building such a difficult project.
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| Did they lever them like so? Pull them like so? |
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| Carved entrance feature |
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| Visitors autographing prickly pear, leaving their mark too |
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