Winter on the Maltese Islands: Peeling Back the Layers

The winter sun seems to wink at me as it catches the crest of a wave in Valletta harbour. Sipping on a cool Kinnie, a Maltese bitter-orange soft drink, I lay my hand on the warm limestone of the bastions of Upper Barrakka Gardens. As if on cue, “Valletta”, a tune by local band *etnika, begins to trickle its way down my earphones. The baritone sax accompanies the sad tune of a sailor’s heartbreak after discovering his lover has gone off with two other seamen. Throughout its history, this port city has been a meeting point of cultures, and while this didn’t bode well for the poor sailor’s love life, it made these islands rich and layered. I smirk as I pass a British phone box on my way to the Christmas markets. Here we go again.

But rather than this cultural cocktail, it’s the promise of over 300 days of sunshine per year that usually draws tourists to the Maltese Islands. I like to think it’s this fusion that makes them return, though. And there is no better time to do so than in the winter months. Island life slows down and the temperatures sit in a comfortable range for exploration.

Granted, you might spot a few locals wrapped up in winter coats when the temperature still feels like a summer day in the UK, but that’s no cause for concern. “We need an excuse to get our winter clothes out — when else are we supposed to wear them?” Sabrina Debono, a Maltese artist, quipped, wrapped in a faux-fur coat. “I love the changes that winter brings. As an artist who paints lots of seascapes, I enjoy the occasional stormy skies, slightly more dramatic seas, the lush verdure of Gozo and the less intense sun.”

Cultural acceleration

While the weather might encourage slowness in the cooler months, the cultural agenda actually ramps up. “The arts scene usually gets busier in the winter, as artists tend to exhibit and curate projects more around this time,” prolific local artist Gabriel Buttiġieġ explained. “If you happen to drop by Valletta, there’ll definitely be something to catch at Spazju Kreattiv, Malta International Contemporary Art Space (MICAS) or Valletta Contemporary.”

There’s also no shortage of festivals in the winter. The Three Palaces Festival, which takes place in late October to early November, showcases dance and classical music against the backdrop of San Anton Palace, Verdala Palace and the Grand Master’s Palace. Similarly, in January, Valletta Baroque Festival combines stunning venues such as Manoel Theatre and St John’s Cathedral with live classical music. Across the islands, you’d be hard-pressed to find cultural events in bland venues. The remains of the old opera house, which was heavily bombed during a German air raid in World War II, have now been converted into an outdoor theatre, Pjazza Teatru Rjal. And even ancient sites, such as Mnajdra Neolithic Temples, occasionally play host to events, such as the winter solstice.

A melting pot of flavour

When perusing restaurant menus, you’ll notice an intriguing cocktail of flavours from around the Mediterranean basin, combining Arab influences with an Italian flair. There’s everything from ravjul (the Maltese take on ravioli) to bajtra(prickly pear liqueur) and imqaret (fried date cakes). “I never really understood the concept of a ‘Maltese dish’, because our cuisine is so rich, so eclectic,” Buttiġieġ, a self-proclaimed foodie as well as a prominent local artist, commented. “But if I had to choose the ideal Maltese dish for the winter months, it would definitely be fenek moqli (rabbit in garlic and white wine). No tomato sauce, please.”

At this time of year, many locals opt for warming Maltese dishes, even if you might still be breaking out in a sweat. “Winter is a time for comforting food,” Daniel Pisani, the author of A Mediterranean Island Kitchen and A Plant-Based Maltese Kitchen, said. “So, I usually eat lots of minestra with seasonal vegetables and small pasta or ross il-forn (baked rice),”

Whenever I’m in Malta, I always make a pitstop at Diar il-Bniet, a Maltese farm-to-table restaurant in Dingli that really celebrates seasonal produce. After lunch, you can enjoy a cliffside hike in the winter sun. If you’re in search of an upmarket experience, you can visit one of the seven Michelin-star restaurants on the islands or sample local wines at venues such as Tal-Massar Winery, a Gozitan vineyard with sea views.

Dive right in

If you’re more inclined to dive into the waters rather than contemplate them, then why not head to Xrobb l-Għaġin or Selmun Bay? These secluded swimming spots are some of my favourite ones in Malta. But even the more touristy areas, like Sliema, give you the opportunity to dry off on the limestone while polishing off a couple of Pastizzi tal-piżelli (curried pea cakes). Definitely not awful.

Malta’s waters are also ideal for novice divers. “Ċirkewwa offers an easy shore entry, excellent winter visibility, natural beauty and shipwrecks, making it ideal for building confidence,” Darko Kovačević, a maritime archaeologist and former member of Heritage Malta Underwater Cultural Heritage Unit, commented. “For advanced divers, I’d recommend Um El Faroud. It’s an iconic wreck that really comes into its own in winter, when the visibility is often at its best.”

Once you’re back on firm ground, you might be in the mood for a party. And the good news is February is carnival season. The five days leading up to Lent, which usually fall in February, are a great time to stay in Valletta or nearby Floriana, as organized fun becomes the order of the day. When Lent actually begins, that’ll be your cue to make your way to Caffè Cordina and get yourself a Kwarezimal, an addictive Lenten biscuit. The Feast of St Paul’s Shipwreck is another must-see February event in Valletta. Expect fireworks, parades and a decidedly wobbly statue of St Paul, shouldered by potentially wobblier revellers.

With all these festivities, having a good place to rest is vital. Thankfully, Malta has no shortage of boutique hotels in converted palazzi, rural farmhouses, and popular hotel chains, with options to suit all budgets. One of the perks of low season is often reduced rates.

My winter break draws to an end in Mdina, the “Silent City”. Sitting on the terrace at Fontanella, I gaze out at the valley below and the Mtarfa clocktower ahead of me. I’ve ordered a tea, because Malta is one of the few places in the Mediterranean where milky British tea has been embraced. There isn’t a slice of lemon in sight. “It is winter, after all,” I remind myself, reaching for my fan.