"Boring" Sea Grass of Maltese Beauty.

We're going a-b r-r-o-o-a-a-d for our h-o-a-l-lidays!

Such was my mother back in the 1960s when Dad drove us to Italy in our family saloon. Typical of her to mimic the dialect of a snooty aristocrat who always believed that foreign holidays were reserved for the rich, she felt satisfied that we as a family had managed to "encroach" onto the privilege reserved for the wealthier echelons of society.

But any wealthy aristocrat having taken a look into our situation would have laughed, albeit lightly and with a dash of modesty. She would have seen a small car travelling on a French highway to meet with my maternal grandparents who have happened to live in an untouristic city of Turin, tucked in the northwest corner of the Italian peninsula. The trip involved two overnight stops. With Dad leaving the rest of us in the car, he would walk around the French town to look for a hotel for us to spend the night. After a short while, we see him run towards us with excitement. He had found a hotel that was happy to accommodate us at such short notice.

He drove us around the streets of the town. But we never ended up in comfortable beds. Instead, having forgotten the location of the hotel, we ended up spending another night sleeping rough in the parked car.

Sea Grass (stock photo)

The next day we arrived at our Italian destination where, as an adventurous teenager, I had to put up with the ultimate boredom of family confinement at an upstairs apartment where not a word of English was spoken, except when directed to us (my brother and me.) Fortunately, I was allowed out to visit the city centre on my own by taking a tram, itself a novelty to me, sitting inside "a coach on railway lines."

At least I can say that my father did his best. But international travel or family holidays was never his forte. Part of that was due to financial limitations. However, he was also a motoring fanatic. To him, to drive a car across France, across the Alps into Italy was his ultimate life's fulfilment.

And so, with the last two blogs written about Travel, this looks like a developing series of blogs on this topic. There was no original intention to create a series, but having started, I decided to carry on to see how far this would get without repeating or overlapping between blogs. There was no original planning.

And we both (my wife and I) love watching YouTube travel videos. YouTube presenter Rick Stevens on his exploration of Europe including Britain and also Egypt, has been watched extensively by us, along with presenters Gabriel Traveler and Jason Billam, all three are university graduates. Then there are the former BBC reporters, such as Craig Doyle, Kate Humble, and Simon Reeve. Only Gabriel and Jason had ventured out on their own with a high-quality video camera and a laptop. The others all had a camera crew with them. 

This goes to show how popular such documentaries are. With viewing numbers reaching into the millions between them, I have wondered what extra benefit my contribution would bring, especially if there are countless more YouTube travel presenters not mentioned here. But with me, there is an extra dimension. While all the other productions are secular, I acknowledge that all my trips taken throughout my life were a blessing from God, gotten from grace and undeserved mercy. God has blessed me richly in something I enjoy most, and throughout, he has kept me out of harm's way.

Watching Gabriel Traveler's video on Malta had brought wonderful memories of our own trip to the archipelago in 2012. His video included that of the small island of Comino, between the main island of Malta and its northern neighbouring island of Gozo. Comino features the beautiful Blue Lagoon, which is a very popular tourist spot and also the site where the film The Count of Monte Cristo was shot.

The boat trip to the Blue Lagoon included the hiring of snorkelling gear. Once the boat was moored for the rest of the day, we made our way to the beach, and while Alex preferred to remain onshore, I went into the sea to check out the underwater scene. Reminiscences of the Great Barrier Reef, Eilat's Coral Beach and the basalt reef of Lanzarote, an island of the Canaries!

But at the Blue Lagoon, the entire seabed was covered by a submarine lawn of seagrass, and there were small jellyfish swimming everywhere. Here, I had to admit, the presence of jellyfish did make the underwater scenery more interesting. But the sight of a small child on the beach screaming in pain in his mother's arms after being stung on the leg had lowered my evaluation of the Blue Lagoon. Indeed, it's a beautiful scene when viewed from the surrounding clifftop, but the underwater view failed to match the views of the other locations I snorkelled at - and in itself was not worth the price for hiring the snorkel.

Seagrass, just seagrass covering the sandy seabed, with no sea life to add enhancement to the subaquatic environment. And to carefully avoid being stung by the jellyfish, I decided to take off my snorkel after just a short time and wade back to the sandy patch of beach. 

Blue Lagoon, Comino Island, taken 2012. 

We then took a stroll along the cliff-top. The views were spectacular! After the walk and before reboarding the boat that would take us back to Malta, we called at one of the many kiosks lining the beachfront, selling refreshments at an inflated price.

That's the trouble with tourist's hotspots. Even refreshments are expensive, but this did not deter the long queues for the most popular traditional English fish-and-chips kiosk, and we were both hungry. So I lined up to wait my turn to be served. Having bought two trays of chips (that is, home fries or potato wedges) and giving one tray to Alex, we settled down to enjoy the snack.

Only for my beloved to accidentally drop her tray without taking her first bite, and the tray landed face down in the sand.

With every wedge covered in sand and little money left in my pocket, my heart fell at the sight of the queue. Oh, why must life be like that? She refused any offers I made from my own tray, instead, insisting that I must eat. Yet, any idea that by eighteen months later, she would be confined to a wheelchair had never crossed my mind. Not even for a moment.

However, before she was confined to the wheelchair, Alex was a good swimmer. Malta's rocky coast provided excellent natural lidos without the nuisance of beach sand clinging all over us. But I was more fascinated with the cliffs, caves and stacks of its coastline. One area where I found to be so inspiring was the Blue Grotto on the south coast of Malta. Here, natural chemicals interacting with the sunshine causes the seawater to turn a deep turquoise as if illuminated from beneath its depths. Fishermen at a nearby port double up to take paying tourists to the bay, which boast deep caves, a huge arch and stacks. It was at one cave that the effect was so striking, I was sure that there was artificial lighting somewhere below the surface.

Swimming in the cave was allowed, or at least the fishermen turned a blind eye, and among a boatful of tourists, I was the only one who jumped off our boat, after watching someone on another boat do the same. Alex stayed on board, keeping a firm eye on me. There is something about allowing the boy in me to take over, to forget all responsibilities, even to act as a nuisance among the other more reserved tourists remaining in the boat. However, at the back of the cave, there was a submerged rock onto which I was able to scamper and from it, climb effortless back into the boat. It was as if the fisherman was shaking his head and wondering if these tourists will ever grow up as we sailed back to harbour.

The seawater at Blue Grotto, taken 2012.

And so we celebrated our 13th wedding anniversary. No, not with champagne, nor in a ballroom dressed in a suit, nor at a house party, but by enjoying a semi-independent holiday in Malta, and to this day, the very last one which involved a return airline flight. Semi-independent, as I call it, means that the flight and hotel involved separate bookings, unlike with a package where, as the name implies, flight and hotel are both in one booking. On this trip, we vied for self-catering. This is a cheaper option than the use of the hotel restaurant. Self-catering also holds memories of those great days of backpacking, when hosteling includes the use of member's kitchens. 

However, when we arrived at the reception, we were told that all the self-catering apartments were overbooked, and so we were given an upstairs double room with a balcony and full access to the restaurant without any further payment. That meant every day of the holiday we enjoyed a full breakfast and evening meal on the cheap.

But the glory of Malta and its two neighbouring islands of Comino and Gozo lies with the rugged yet haunting beauty of the coastline. What a phenomenon! Especially that massive arch at Blue Grotto. The arch was large enough for the boat to sail through. As I see it, our God the Creator loves aesthetics. And all this must give Him pleasure when a believer sees such beauty and acknowledges His power. The same power that opens the bud of a delicate flower and how it attracts a bee or other insect to feed on its nectar whilst at the same time, collecting pollen to fertilise another flower elsewhere.

Natural arch at Blue Grotto, taken 2012.

Finally, it's worth mentioning here that Malta was the scene of a famous shipwreck as recorded in the Bible. In the New Testament book, The Acts of the Apostles chapters 27 and 28, we read of a ship carrying both cargo and prisoners ending up beached near the island during a winter storm. Paul was on board that ship, and it was down to him to order all crew and prisoners to swim to the nearby beach. They were all welcomed by the indigenous Maltese people who had a bonfire blazing despite the rain. As Paul was gathering more wood for the fire, a snake hidden in the bush reached out and bit him. But he just shook the reptile into the fire. Everyone was watching, believing that justice was served and Paul will soon die. But as he carried on, perhaps talking amongst the group, the people began to believe that Paul was a god.

And that's not the first time either. Sometime earlier, Paul and Barnabas were preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ to the crowds of Lystra (Acts 14:8-20) when he ordered a cripple to stand up and walk. As he stood up, the rest of the crowd gasped in astonishment and believed that Paul and Barnabas were gods incarnate.

This same Paul firmly believed in the historicity of Adam and Eve and referred to him as the First Adam, and to Jesus Christ as the Last Adam (Romans 5:12-21.)

The statue of Paul now stands at the site in Malta. Nearby, the remains of an ancient shipwreck lie on the seabed at the traditional site of the Biblical shipwreck. Could these remains be the very ship Paul was on? If so, it goes to show the historicity of the Bible. And Paul taught the historicity of Adam and Eve. Such was necessary for his Gospel to be effective.

Apprentice Octopus!

It was our honeymoon in the Autumn of 1999. As my bride Alex was sunbathing on the little stretch of beach at St. Paul's Bay at the coastal resort of Lindos, on the Greek island of Rhodes, I swam with casual ease among rocks protruding from the surface of the warm Mediterranean waters. Just below the surface lurked a live octopus. Whether it was looking out for its next meal or whether it was irritated by my constant presence as I gazed in wonder, I cannot be sure. However, if the creature is as intelligent as marine biologists make out to be, then it's more likely that its irritability was caused by my intrusion into its territory rather than the other way round.

St Paul's Bay, Rhodes.

Watching documentaries about life beneath the waves on television can be quite edifying and a good source of knowledge. But observing by looking at a TV screen would never hold a candle to actually being in the water itself to observe such living creatures, although to be thoroughly honest, when it comes to the Great White Shark, I rather be looking at it on television than finding myself staring face-to-face with one in the open ocean! Then again, today's newspaper is carrying an article about a young British tourist in his twenties, who was fatally bitten by a sea snake off the northern coast of Australia. This particular species of sea snake has one of the highest venom potentials of all snakes, whether marine or land.

There is always an element of risk when sea bathing, whether it's a swim off the pebbly beach at Brighton or diving or snorkelling at the Great Barrier Reef. With Brighton, there is always the risk of rip-tides, where a strong current can take a swimmer out to sea, even a strong swimmer. But at the Great Barrier Reef, one would never know what organism may suddenly strike after its territory so rudely intruded. What I have seen, the sharp teeth of a Moray Eel does look as if it can sever a human arm if it snaps shut at a passing diver. Yet, after being warned by close friends of the dangers of encountering wildlife in warm climes or tropical regions, I returned home safely from both hiking through the desert of the Grand Canyon and from snorkelling at the Great Barrier Reef and at the Red Sea alike.

And from any threats from the octopus. No doubt, far more interested in finding a stray crab than in the presence of an intruding human, biologists have credited the Octopus with a very high level of intelligence, according to TV documentaries. High intelligence? Maybe if I were to keep an octopus in a tank nearby, perhaps it will sort through these high-tech problems occurring on my laptop! However, I do find these marine creatures fascinating. But high intelligence? What I have seen throughout life, I can't see any higher intelligence in the octopus than within the rest of the animal kingdom. After all, is the spider with its intricate web-building instinct less intelligent than the octopus?

When scientists say that a particular species of octopus have higher intelligence, they tend to refer to its evolutionary progress to inherit the ability to change its skin colour instantly to blend into its surroundings in perfect camouflage. This ability, astonishing as it is in my opinion, looks to be from involuntary instinct rather than by conscious calculation. In other words, the octopus does not consciously change its skin colour to suit the oft-changing sea floor. As the creature moves along, its colour changes without any effort by the organism, as if the original work of an intelligent Designer.

According to my own observations, the octopus, like most other living creatures, has to survive in a fallen world where predation holds dominance. Therefore it's no surprise that the Designer had equipped the octopus with a threefold ability for survival - to prey on other lifeforms for sustenance, to keep itself from being prey to another carnivorous creature, and the ability to reproduce. And so, if camouflage is one method needed for its survival, shouldn't this be a testimony for a Designer rather than by evolution by chance and mere natural selection?

And so the octopus became the centre of attention during the opening episode of the BBC television show, The Apprentice, a twelve-part series about entrepreneur Alan Sugar in his search for a business partner to whom he will invest 250,000 pounds towards the business owned by the winning candidate. Sixteen candidates were chosen from thousands of applicants, as a result of tough tests and interviews, including an assessment of each by a Psychiatrist, before the finalists were selected. Therefore all of them, eight men and eight women, are the cream of business acumen, the very backbone of England. 

Their first task involved a flight to Malta to purchase nine items which reflected the island's culture. One of the items included on the list was "an octopus with a 40-inch hose."

So the whole of the two teams flew out to Malta for the one day. Whilst escorted to the airport, one of the females asked, Where is Malta? Oh dear. Here is a rising professional, upon her the future of our country's economy will be dependent on, not knowing where Malta is? If I had been there with her, I probably would have answered, it's on this planet, dear!

Once landed on the South Mediterranean island, the men did take off their jackets but kept their shirts firmly buttoned and their ties fully done up. But to be fair to them, the filming was most likely done in the Spring, when the average Maltese temperature was about 17 degrees Celsius - not exactly sunburn weather. So appeared a team of what used to be called Yuppies (an acronym for Young Urban Professional). The Yuppie was the creme-de-la-creme of English City society back in the eighties when Conservative leader Margaret Thatcher - the first ever UK's female Prime Minister - was in power, and the sharply dressed Yuppie, with his astonishing wealth made so quickly over weeks rather than years or even months, was sometimes referred to as Thatcher's Children. And so, thirty years on, here they are, trying to get to grips with their new environment.

Lord Sugar included an octopus with a forty-inch hose on their shopping list. All the candidates were stunned by the request. This item was passed over by the women, one of several omissions which cost them the task. But the eight men were determined to include the octopus with their other purchases. Had I been there with them, I would have immediately realised that these eight-legged marine creatures don't have forty-inch hoses. Therefore I would have concluded there and then that the item was to be some man-made device bearing the same name, the conclusion I had right from the start whilst watching the programme.

Lord Sugar was referring to this.

The team had no knowledge of diving between all eight of them. Not one of them had any idea that a piece of diving equipment was referred to. And to be honest and fair, I have no knowledge on specific diving equipment either, even though I went on an actual dive at Rhodes during our honeymoon. There I was fitted with the appropriate equipment, including the octopus, by a supervisor without being told the detail of each piece of equipment.

Therefore, not knowing what an octopus is, and not permitted to Google the term either, I would have thought that having a marine name and a hose to go with it, all I had to do was walk into a shop which either sells fishing tackle or a dealer in diving equipment. It would have been risky, but making a fool of myself due to lack of knowledge - well, there was no other option. Real octopuses don't have 40" hoses! Therefore what would have been the outcome? 

I believe that the dealer in fishing tackle would have explained to me what an octopus is, and then directed me to the dive equipment shop. Or if it was the diving store I first walked into, the assistant would have placed several brands of the breathing device on the counter in front of me. A purchase is then made.

But what did these 'yuppie' friends do instead? Yes, they chose a fishmonger and in there, they spoke with an almost unbearable level of arrogance and ended up with buying a real dead octopus! They even had the "hose" measured, which was less than one inch in length when stretched. No matter. The item must be bagged.

The actual scene from The Apprentice, in Malta.

And the point in all this? Incredibly amusing. And perhaps shocking too. These men are our future business leaders, and post-Brexit Britain will depend on their skills to stabilise the economy. But as a retired window cleaner and most likely considered as not very clever or academic, I do feel that I could have done better, at least with this octopus gadget anyway. Like the time when I was guest at the home of a middle-class family of four, where both sons were due to attend university. After lunch, we were all engaged in a General Knowledge quiz board game. Much to my surprise, I managed to beat them. Then there was another middle-class professional couple with whom I played Scrabble. I have defeated them too, along with others where knowledge is part of the game, although to balance the books, I will admit being defeated several times by an adolescent young enough to be my son in a game of Trivial Pursuit.

Post-Brexit Britain, the creme-de-la-creme of English society, the backbone of Britain, such makes up many a Christian church here in the UK. But as a Christian, I do have very close friends who voted to leave the EU, but I don't allow this to get between us (as you might have already guessed: I voted to remain in the EU). Therefore it can be said that I have friends and Christian brothers among those who voted to leave the European Union as well as those who voted to remain. Yet through the power of Christ within us, we remain close.

It is a case when Christian fellowship should cover over differences of political opinion, and dare to say, I have friends in churches who also believe in Theistic Evolution instead of Divine Creation as described in the Bible. And that, I believe, is what God's desire for all mankind is all about. The friendship between us that is, without compromising on my convictions. First be reconciled to God, having all his sins forgiven, acquitted, regenerated, and being led by the Holy Spirit dwelling within. And all this can only come through faith in Jesus Christ, his death on the Cross, his burial, and his Resurrection.

I suppose The Apprentice is just the opposite, in a sense a representation of Darwinianism. The survival of the fittest, the elimination of the weakest candidate. And each week there will always be the weakest candidate and he or she has to go. I guess, rather than evolution, it represents natural selection. True enough, but neither man or woman actually evolves. There will never be some kind of superhuman working with Lord Sugar. Instead, the entire series is nothing more than the struggle between candidates for survival - in this case, to remain in the process. Even within team co-ordination, disagreements arise which can lead to verbal fights, although I have yet to see an actual physical fight. That would make the whole programme very colourful, would it not?

I think programmes such as The Apprentice is fun to watch. Could there be something within us, a longing desire to see some very proud and arrogant would-be professional facing humiliation in view of the whole nation? The crass stupidity shown especially by the men when they entered en bloc into a fishmonger's and then deliver a lecture about an octopus with a 40" hose, has surely tickled our fancy. Surely, the very puzzlement shown by the fishmonger should have been a clear enough signal that something is not right here. But such blindness and crass stupidity combined with unadulterated pride, self-confidence, and arrogance reveal a hole in each of their hearts which only the Resurrected Christ can fill.