Malta: Where Ulysses Meets Perry Como

Here's a quick quiz: Is the Mediterranean island nation of Malta (a) the home nesting place of Bogart's famous falcon; (b) the source of an exotic breed of cat; or (c) headquarters for the Knights of Malta, who for centuries launched crusades against the infidel du jour? Strictly speaking, the answer is "all of the above." But last winter, when I fled south to escape Northern Europe's chills and urban blahs, I found that the real answer is: (d) a cluster of three tiny and colorful islands with a balmy cli mate, dramatic coast and an immense cultural heritage.

In history, as in real estate, location is everything. Although tourists think of the Mediterranean as a playground awash in wine, sun and romance, the Maltese have always considered it a risky neighborhood. The country's strategic location at the dangero us intersection of Europe, Africa and the Middle East has made the main island of Malta (and its sister islands Gozo and Comino) one of history's great takeover targets -- starting in 800 B.C., when the Phoenicians arrived, and continuing through World Wa r II, when Hitler's bombers pounded its ports. The guestbook would also include Queen Victoria, who annexed Malta to the Crown for 150 years until its independence in 1964, and Saint Paul, whose ship ran aground there in A.D. 60 and whose unexpected ar rival began Malta's strongly Catholic tradition. (The arrival is commemorated every February on the St. Paul's Shipwreck Day national holiday.)

Malta's best-known visitors were the Knights of the Order of St. John, or Knights of Malta, the warrior-aristocrats who defended the faith from 1530 until Napoleon threw them out in 1798. Their massive fortifications remain intact today, ready for the nex t Turkish siege, and make Malta a Camelot of walled towns, castles and moats straight out of a child's picture book.

Valletta, Malta's fortress capital, juts into the sea like a mighty warship hewn from honey-colored limestone, its decks packed with Sicilian baroque churches and Renaissance-era mansions. Valletta proved a great place for strolling. Its main drag, Republ ic Street, runs straight through town from the walled City Gate to the massive seafront fortress of St. Elmo, along the way passing St. John's Co-Cathedral, completed in 1577, where the knights sought divine assistance before setting out on their crusades . Behind a deceptively bland facade, the cathedral blazes with warmth and color, from its gilt ceiling and altar to a floor completely paved with tomb covers of brilliantly inlaid red, green and yellow marble. And, adding to all this luster, two superb Ca ravaggios -- "The Beheading of St. John the Baptist," which many consider his greatest masterpiece, and "St. Jerome." Both were painted in 1608, during the artist's brief stay in Malta as a fugitive from Roman justice.

Farther down Republic Street on Great Siege Square stands the Palace of the Grand Masters of the Knights of Malta, who lived here in appropriately grand style, amid tapestries and magnificent trompe l'oeil paintings. The palace is now both the home of the Maltese president and the seat of parliament, a feat of cohabitation unthinkable in Washington but eminently workable in sunny, laid-back Malta.

Another favorite walk circled Valletta's massive walls. From the parapets, panoramic views of the capital's huge Grand Harbour unfolded, revealing a teeming nautical pageant of cruise liners, warships and sailboats. Far below I spotted the luzzu, Malta's traditional fishing boats, brilliantly striped in reds, greens and blues, and still bearing the painted eyes in the prow that the ancient Phoenicians thought would ward off evil spirits. Deep inside the walls, I visited the meticulously preserved Lascaris War Rooms, the World War II complex of underground control centers and apartments where, surrounded by the operations room's giant maps, history buffs would find it easy to visualize Eisenhower and Montgomery charting their crusade to liberate Italy.

Late in the afternoon I'd often join Valletta's ritual passeggiata, a daily pageant of street life with the hubbub and haggling reminiscent of Palermo and other southern European cities with historical Arab ties. But, wandering through Valletta's crowded streets, I also heard from open doorways the half-forgotten voices of Doris Day and Frankie Laine -- my first clue that, along with its Camelot architecture, Malta is also a Mediterranean Brigadoon, a rap-free zone where Perry Como is probably still in th e Top 40 and the family jalopy might be one of the elderly Morrises, Rileys or Ford Prefects that still trundle along Maltese roads.

My personal Eisenhower Nostalgia Award, however, went to Valletta's bus depot just outside the city gate, a wonderland of vintage urban transport where torpedo-shaped coaches of the 1950s Buick school of design -- tail fins, ersatz portholes and such pain ted-on mottoes as "Baby Think Twice" and "Above the Law" -- set forth to crisscross the island with cheap and surprisingly reliable service.

One of these wheeled artifacts, a bilious green Leyland bearing the wildly optimistic slogan "Born to Fly," took me beyond Valletta's urban sprawl to the ancient and undisturbed village of Mdina. Although Mdina thrived under the Phoenicians and then the R omans, its narrow and silent streets are lined with Sicilian baroque palaces and churches that date from the 18th-century heyday of the knights. In the morning sunlight, Mdina's palaces, with intricately carved facades and doorways that would seem cold an d formal in granite, literally exuded a golden glow from their limestone walls. My stroll down Villegaignon Street led from a town gate protected by fierce stone lions past walled palaces with colorful balconies to Archbishop's Square, where Mdina's ornat e baroque cathedral coexists uneasily with a curlicued Victorian mansion carved in stone. And, at the end of my walk, an unexpected reward -- tea and scones at the tiny outdoor cafe high on Mdina's city walls, complete with splendid views of a green and a ncient countryside dotted with small towns and stone farmhouses.

At the port of Cirkewwa I hopped another Smithsonian candidate, the good ship Xlendi, the creaky ferry to Gozo, Malta's neighbor and sister island. Along the way, we passed tiny Comino, Malta's third island, named for the cumin plants that once flourished there but now deserted except for a few dive camps and a hotel. During the voyage, I got an earful from Arthur, a retiree from Gozo with an attitude about those uppity folks in Valletta, who regularly dismiss the Gozitans as country bumpkins. According t o Arthur, "over on Malta they see us as a bunch of rubes, but we're the ones with all the scenery and the terrific lifestyle."

I don't know about the hayseed part, but Arthur is dead right about the scenery and lifestyle. Less than 30 minutes from Malta by ferry, Gozo is a very different world whose green fields and rolling hills exude antiquity and harbor a rustic lifestyle that is slowly receding as its ancient farm cottages are gentrifled by Young Upwardly Mobile Maltese, inevitably known as "yummies" by the locals.

An eerie sense of the ancient Mediterranean world of myths and shadows is palpable everywhere on Gozo, but nowhere more than at Ggantija, the Stonehenge-like temple complex erected to honor the Earth Mother some 5,600 years ago, a thousand years before Eg ypt's better-known pyramids. Even though Ggantija is now surrounded by peaceful meadows of wildflowers and bougainvillea, and visiting Maltese preschoolers play amid its massive limestone slabs, with only a little imagination I could conjure up the suffer ing involved in erecting these Stone Age cathedrals. The fire-blackened altars also hint of much more tangible human sacrifices to long-forgotten deities.

Ancient history was also made in a cave overlooking the large and semideserted beach at Ramla Bay. Here, according to Homer's "Odyssey," the nymph Calypso kept Ulysses her prisoner of love for seven years. Aside from its memories of history's earliest rec orded stalking, Ramla Bay proved just the place for an impromptu picnic of hobz, Malta's sensationally crusty and chewy peasant bread, and hunks of gbejniet, the rich local version of chevre.

My tour of Gozo ended with a Felliniesque experience high on the citadel of Victoria, Gozo's capital, where from the ramparts I watched the Stars and Stripes gallantly streaming from houses named "God Bless America" and "Old Glory" by nostalgic Gozitans r eturned home to retire after years in the United States.

A final cultural note: English is one of Malta's two official languages, which is good news for foreigners, because the other, Maltese, is an exotic mix that reflects perfectly the rich history of these tiny islands. So unless you have a working knowledge of ancient Phoenician and Arabic, plus a smattering of Italian and Sicilian dialect and English, you are never going to wow anyone with your Maltese. On the other hand, where else can you hear "That's Amore" booming from a car stereo?

William B. Whitman, a former diplomat who now lives in Washington, is the author of "Virginia Wines and Wineries," to be published by Casco this year.

WAYS & MEANS

GETTING THERE: Lufthansa flies from Washington Dulles to Malta via Frankfurt for $1,036 round trip, Swissair via Zurich for $976, both with restrictions.

GETTING AROUND: The hourly ferries between Cirkewwa and Mgarr cost $4.55 per adult, $11 per car; call the Gozo Channel Co., 011-356-243964.

WHERE TO STAY: Tops in Valletta is the Phoenicia (The Mall, Floriana, telephone 011-356-225241, fax 011-356-235254), a stately veteran with first-class service. Rooms start at about $150 double. Others are the Castille (Castille Square, telephone 011-35 6-243677, fax 011-356-243679) and the Osborne (50 South St., telephone 011-356-243656, fax 011-356-232120), both about $70 to $80 double, breakfast included.

Gozo's possibilities are limited, but one of them is probably Malta's top hotel, Ta Cenc (telephone 011-365-556819, fax 011-365-558199), an Italian-run hideaway with its own beach cliffs and nature preserve; guests can stay in rooms, small villas or trul li, the conical Apulian houses, with rates starting at about $145 double. Other Gozo possibilities include the L-Mgarr (telephone 011-365-560455, fax 011-365-557589, starting at about $85 double) and Patrick's (12 Xlendi Seafront, telephone 011-365-562951 , $40 to $80).

WHERE TO EAT: Valletta's restaurant choices are limited. My favorite was the Carriage at 22/5 Valletta Building, South Street, with an Italian spin to its international menu; dinner is about $50 for two. The Pappagall (Melita Street) is all Italian, whi le Caffe Cordina (244 Republic St.), outdoors on Republic Square, serves up ftira, which are salade Nicoise sandwiches on that terrific Maltese bread. Both run less than $15 per person.

Valletta's seafront suburbs offer a lively social scene, with such restaurants as Maroya (Tigne Seafront, Sliema) and San Giuliano (St. Julian's Bay), both specializing in grilled fish and in the $30 to $40 range, wine included.

On Gozo, the Ta Cenc restaurant is top-notch, but the much more modest Gesther's (8 September Ave.), in the village of Xaghra, is a good place to sample Maltese cuisine. About $30 for two, wine included.

INFORMATION: Malta National Tourist Office, 350 Fifth Ave., Suite 4412, New York, N.Y. 10118, 212-695-9520.

-- William B. Whitman

@CAPTION: The entrance to the ancient walled city of Mdina.

@CAPTION: Valletta, Malta's fortress capital.