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Siesta: The village and the runners rest

Again we reach another checkpoint and nutrition point. What Michele forgot to bring, Anthony can spare and he loves to surprise us with always another treat. In the distance water wheel creaks. At this point we might have paused a little bit too long but without rushing we shoulder our backpacks and continue to run. The course profile remains entertaining.

Mile 21 – 32: Speed is relative!

Michele continously increases the pace, because we still have a lot to discover. Gozo’s countryside is way too beautiful to be distracted by such things as time, which is why I do not even dare to check my watch. Right here at the picturesque shoreline one can marvel at the hand-dug salt pans enlightened by the sun. These historic salt marshes near Masalforn have been around since 1740 and are still in use today.

Without the aid stations and the water we carry in our backpacks, we would already be lying around feeling like dried fruit by now. We reach the third nutrition point in QBajjar and once more the young Boy Scouts (Xaghra Scout Group) take tender care of us making it difficult for us to decide to keep on running. That Masalforn is one of Gozo’s favourite tourist stops becomes obvious when you see that every last place in all restaurants along the boardwalk is taken. Gozo is more peaceful and the price level is significantly lower than it is on the main island Malta.

After around mile 19 we pass the Hotel Calypso. I am happy that our hotel is not the finish area because I still have so much energy and excitement in me to experience and discover more of this island and it’s coasts. We leave Masalforn and the road climbs steeply. This countryside seems smooth yet turns out to be just a good masquerade.

Copacabana or Fata Morgana?

Twelve meters high is the statue of Jesus on the Tas Salvatur that, some say, was once a volcano and shall protect the islanders against an eruption. Down to the present day no eruption occurred.

The next miles cover a passage of my “Discovery Trail” previously reported (see here). Before the Malta marathon I never ever would have thought to end up and run here. Now this is the second time I am blessed to relish the beaming turquoise sea with its white foamcrowns.

Bamboo cave

Numerous running magazines rhapsodise trailrunning and describe it as the ultimate and vivid approach to nature. Some races are famous for their difficulty and their tremendously excruciating conditions. And what is more, thousands of runners are fascinated by those overpriced “fun runs” where you have to wade through the mud and cross fake climbing obstacles. I, too, once waited over 30 minutes to pass only one obstacle in one of these races.

And today I run on a “clayey” and slippery trail through high-growing reed plants. The entry into a bamboo cave is hidden in the reeds and to move through it we have to walk crouched down. Coming out of the cave again I am utterly amazed by the following scenario: Male Italians are notorious for throwing a glance after women briefly – it is woven into their genes. That is why I never would have imagined a Sicilian kneeling before me. No less charming is the Maltese of our group who holds out his hand for me as I try to pass a nearby stream.

As if this was not enough we now need to climb a small passage on all fours. We are so slow, snails could pass by.