大象传媒

CHAPTER 2 Living at the Crown Hotel, Sliema.

鈥淭his story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Anita Howard from Essex Action Desk CSV on behalf of herself as Anita M. Sackett and has been added to the site with her permission. She fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.鈥�

Our taxi sped us to our hotel on the Sliema front. It was a small hotel in a row of large villas with slatted shutters and stone balustrades facing the sea. After the war it had been difficult to rent houses or flats due to the bombing Malta had suffered. When dad arrived most of the available property had been snapped up so we had to live in the Crown Hotel until a place could be found for us.
The room contained a double bed for my parents and a single bed for Ginny and me to share. As soon as we saw the bed we jumped on and played around on it pulling down the white gauze mosquito net, trapping us beneath it; much to my dad鈥檚 wrath. The net was then removed. We tried sleeping side by side but with all our toys in bed with us there wasn鈥檛 much room so we slept top to toe, with me at the bottom. Of course our feet often touched and we aggravated each other so it was difficult to get to sleep especially as the weather was hot in June. There was no air conditioning in those days though we may have had a ceiling fan. A back window looked down into a little court yard and garden.

Our meals were in the dining room although the evening meal was too late for us so we had our 鈥渢ea鈥� earlier. The crockery was white with a green rim and stamped with a crown and the hotel鈥檚 name underneath it. The silver service ware had ridges on the cutlery handles. I wonder why this memory is so clear ? Sometimes mum would bring ice cream to the bedroom in a silver sundae dish. Oh, how wonderful it tasted. My sister and I still remember the almond taste to this day.

For my 6th birthday in September, I was allowed to dine with my parents and afterwards stand on the sea front watching all the Maltese families promenading. I could see the sea crashing on the rocky beach and smell the strong salty brine. I wore a new dress, oh, I did feel grand and grown up.

The shore was not sandy but many years before some bathing pools had been carved out of the rock with descending steps. They were mostly square and some were curved. This is where we learned to swim. The pools were constantly refreshed with water washing in from the rough sea beyond. Often we would see tiny octopi scuttling across the rocks into the pools so I was very wary when I entered the water. I didn鈥檛 like the slimy sides or the sea weed on the bottom.

We wore knitted bathing costumes which sagged when wet. The Maltese girls swam in dresses as scanty clothing for girls was considered to be indecent by the Maltese in those days. My mother made us life saving belts. These were made out of cotton material which she filled with cork gathered from the flotsam and jetsam on the shore line. This idea she copied from the belts worn by the Maltese children. My mother could not swim but watched us from the rocks close by.

Next to the hotel was a Roman Catholic school for girls who wore brown uniforms with summer straw hats. I would watch them coming and going until dad enrolled me at the H. M. Dockyard school which was run by the Navy. My father worked for the Air Ministry Works Department (AMDW) so connected civilian children were allowed to attend the school.
A bus would collect me and take me to the school held in two large villas 鈥淪unshine鈥� and 鈥淪eafoam鈥� at Ta鈥� Xbiex on the way to Valetta. I only remember such detail because I still have the very first school magazine. The headmaster was Instructor Lieutenant Commander A. H. Miles and there were 55 pupils. I don鈥檛 remember very much about this site. Later, I remember, the school was moved to Tal-Handak in 1947of which I have many memories.

Meanwhile we lived Sliema, the second largest town in Malta. Often mum would take us into town stopping to look in the open fronted shops with their colourful wares on display. Shoe and sandal shops with pairs of shoes dangling out side or woven straw shopping baskets piled high outside the doorway. There were also shops that sold brightly coloured bales of material, also displayed outside.
One day a shopkeeper ran down the street after us and accused us children of leaving greasy fingerprints on some of his dress material. He said we had been eating crisps and wanted my mother to pay for the cloth. However we were not allowed to eat in the street so my mother knew it wasn鈥檛 us and denied the owner. After that incident she never bought anything from him again.

As a treat she would take us for an ice cream or drink into a shop called Bonacci鈥檚, opposite the ferry terminal for Valetta. The shop was still there when I took my mother to Malta in 1982 but is sadly no more.
Most exciting was the ferry ride to Valetta and back. Sailing on the vivid blue harbour sea and reaching the capital, then climbing up the steep steps of the narrow streets into the capital town.

After the rationed war years in England, Malta was so vibrant and colourful, so different. My mother told me that the Maltese people were very friendly and were helpful to mothers with pushchairs and children. She also said they spoke English beautifully and was very pleased when we returned to England and were complimented on the way we spoke.

Most of the buildings in Malta had flat roofs and access to them. Very often we could see clothes drying on the rooftop washing lines but my mother couldn鈥檛 find a way onto our hotel roof. One day she spoke to another guest who told her that all the rooms had a spiral stone staircase leading to the roof. So dad searched the room and found the door hidden behind a wardrobe. Once the room had been rearranged we could use the stairs and could hang the washing on the roof to dry.
It was also exciting as from that height we could see over the rooftops, down onto the streets below and further out to sea.

Altogether we stayed at the hotel for 3 months which proved to be very expensive and used up most of my mother鈥檚 savings. One day my mother contracted 鈥測ellow jaundice鈥� as hepatitis was then called in those days. That meant more expense as there was no free health scheme, so my mother gave my father an ultimatum that if he didn鈥檛 find us somewhere to live we would return to England.

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