Thus ends my island years…

I moved to the Mediterranean because I wanted to write an island book inspired by Lawrence Durrell. But it had to be a place no one else had written about — at least, not in that way.

It’s incredible how disruptive the apartment hunting process is here in Malta.

The entire game is dominated by agents, who earn a commission equal to one month’s rent each time they successfully match owner with tenant.

The Victoria Lines is a 12km long series of fortifications that cuts across the island of Malta from coast to coast, along a steep escarpment called The Great Fault.

[…the Great Fault was actually no one’s fault… just geology…]

Christmas is just another day for me.

I’m not religious, and if forced to choose I would pick the old Greek and Roman pagan gods over any current creed or belief system.

I decided to do something different this year.

Rather than knock on doors to get candy, or run around town throwing eggs and evading capture, I thought I’d spend the night in jail.

But not just any jail would do. It had to have a reputation for dark deeds, and at least a few hauntings.