Jeux Sans Frontières

All I needed was Stuart Hall laughing inanely into a microphone, and I would have been on an episode if It's a Knockout this morning. Let me explain.

The weather has really broken now in Malta. Heavy rain throughout the night that has lessened to a fine drizzle by the time I had to go to work. I decided I'd opt for jeans because of the lower temperature, but a thin t-shirt (quicker than a heavy shirt to dry when I'm sat in the office.) On my feet I chose a pair of (what I thought) were sturdy trainers. No socks, in case my feet got wet.

Two steps outside my front door and I knew I was in trouble. The trainers had no grip at all on the slippery pavements.

Have you visited Malta? I'll assume not so I'll explain what the pavements are like over here. Random and treacherous would be the best two words to sum them up. Each house or building has a different style of paving outside it, from shiny tiles to road tarmac. From rough concrete to cracked flagstones. Every two strides you change surface. Added to this, the slope of each section also appears to have no bearing to the road you are on. One second it's running level with the road, the next it's sloping dramatically towards it. Then sloping just as dramatically away from the road, then back to flat again. Imagine those funny paths that constantly move in Blackpool Funhouse and you'll get the general idea.

Now add in the water factor. Free flowing liquid on the top of all these bizarre walkways. Sometimes charging towards you as you climb a slope. Occasionally running with you as you head downhill. More often than not, running sideways, looking for the drains.

As I got off the bus I was faced with the gargantuan task of walking about a third of a mile, all uphill, to the office. To be honest, I should have been in a giant rabbit costume, clutching a huge inflatable carrot and having Mr Hall screaming 'Here come the Belgiums!' I even stopped at one point, holding onto a sort of makeshift railing and just laughed. I seriously contemplated getting down on my knees and crawling. Every step I made, my foot slid back underneath me. I tried a sort of skating motion, as though I was cross-country skiing, but that only worked on the shiny tiles surfaces. On the rougher areas it almost made me go arse over tip.

Eventually I got to the front door and into the lift - but there is still the journey home to consider at 6pm....

...anyone got a surfboard?