"Thunderbolt & Lightening, Very Very Frightening..."

Sorry that all these Maltese entries seem to revolve around shopping, insects and weather. Truth is, so far that's all my Maltese life has amounted to (except for bone-shaking bus rides and work). Sadly, this entry is not a jaunt away from the norm.

Last night I went to bed early. I have done for the past few nights in the vain hope of sleeping more. The night temperature hasn't been as crazy of late, so I've been able to get closer to five or six hours. Last night however the Gods were against me and did everything they could to keep me awake.

It must have started about one o'clock in the morning. I could hear a swirling wind beating against my balcony window. Thankfully the landlord had been round to fix the lock that day, so it wasn't accompanied by a loud rattle. Next sound to join the orchestra was beating rain, lashing against the window in my bedroom. The blinds were almost fully closed, but I could still see the droplets smashing against the glass, lit up by neighbouring apartments. The final addition to the ensemble was the storm. It was the lightening first. Not an occasional flash, followed seconds later by the rumble of the thunder, no, this was a barrage of light, one after another.

You know on the news when they are about to take you to a roving reporter at the red carpet of a film premiere and the newscaster says 'viewers should be aware that the following images contain flash photography'? It was just like that. It was as though Hugh Grant and George Clooney had just stepped out of a limo together holding hands and every journalist wanted the scoop.

Flash after flash after flash. Of course there was thunder too, but it was one, long constant drone. The kind of sound you can only make if you were inside an echo chamber with an eight foot kettle drum.

Time ran on. Two o'clock, three o'clock. My alarm was set for five. At this point I didn't care if I got back to sleep, but I was worried about how I would get to work without looking like a drowning man. Not only did I have the two minute walk to my bus stop, but there was the ten minute 'It's a knockout' adventure at the other end to look forward to. Then the weather Gods turned on their magic...

...as my alarm sprang into life at 5am, everything stopped. The lightening flashes stopped. The rumbling thunder rolled away. The swirling wind disappeared. The lashing rain subsided. All was calm. Perhaps it was just the eye of the storm, but I knew I had a window of opportunity to get to work and stay dry....

...and I did.

...but the journey wasn't without it's own adventure. I was on one of the older buses in the fleet, a real 1940's contraption. As we left Sliema you get to the foot of a hill, and begin a steady climb up. The hours of rain had of course flooded this valley area, and it was now at least 18 inches deep in places. Parked cars there had the water level completely obsuring their wheels, and partially up the doors. One car had 'floated' away blocking the road, but the bus in front of our 'nudged' it out of the way to give us both clear passage. Everyone seemed to go about their daily business as everything was normal.....

...but at least I knew how Noah felt now.