Travel

Goodbye Malta — Our Return to Mainland Europe

We had mixed feelings leaving this lovely Mediterranean island

Our fist view of Malta, sailing into Valletta harbor on the ferry, back in March — photo by author (taken with a phone; sorry about the poor quality).

As you may know, we’re slow-traveling the south of Europe in search for a new place to settle. While staying in Galicia, late 2025, Malta came onto our radar. We did some research and decided it would be a good fit for us. But we almost didn’t go, as we encountered too many hurdles — if something is too difficult, we don’t pursue, because it has backfired a few times too many in the past. Then an opportunity presented itself: a British couple was looking for workaway volunteers. We applied and were approved.

The hosts were lovely and even though it took a little while to adjust to the Maltese way of life, we found our place. We love Malta as a country, and would gladly put up with its inconveniences, if it was affordable. One can find a relatively cheap place, but it will be low-comfort and probably not in a very desirable location.

Merchants Street, Valletta, Malta — photo by author.

After about two months living in the lively heart of Valletta, we decided to stay for another month and then go back on the road. We started looking for workaway opportunities in France and Spain, and asked around for places to stay. The timing was not ideal, with summer knocking on the door.

We contacted two promising options in Spain, but they both fell through. We were contacted by a few hosts, but either the work or the location wasn’t a match for us. After more than a week we eventually found a workaway opportunity in Southern France that looked good and we made contact. Meanwhile we had secured a place to stay for a few nights once back on the mainland — we’d be staying with my parents in southern France. We could start planning the actual trip.

The typical stairs of Valletta, Malta — photo by author.

Coming to Malta, we had driven all the way from Belgium, through France, to the very south of Italy, where we took the ferry to Sicily and from there on the ferry to Malta. It was a long and rather expensive journey. We knew it was going to cost money to get back, but we decided on a ferry from Sicily to Northern Italy, skipping an exhausting trip through Italy and its very poorly maintained highways.

I’m not the best sailor. I hate water and I would rather take a long detour than setting foot on a boat. But going to Malta and back with a car requires a boat ride, and going from Sicily to mainland Italy too. So I did what I have to. The only reason I chose to go on a 20-hour boat ride to return to the mainland, was because I didn’t want to drive all the way, though I was anxious about it.

The ferry line between Malta and Sicily uses catamarans — photo by author.

We rarely do something unprepared. Going back to mainland Europe was no exception, especially since getting on the ferries in time was important. My wife always started packing early, greatly overestimating how long it actually took. As such, she began on Monday, thinking she needed two days. Within two hours she was done.

Tuesday evening I moved everything from our room and my workspace to the hall of the apartment. We had done a calculation of how much time we would need to get it all down from the second floor and put it in the van. We came to the conclusion that in order to get to the ferry terminal at 5h30, we’d had to get up at 4h30. I said: “Better make it 4h15.” We settled on four sharp.

We had asked the owner of the downstairs restaurant to clear some of his outside sitting area so we could park our van. He was happy to do it… but he forgot, so we had to, which took another ten minutes. I got our van while the missus cleared the last tables and chairs. The parking lot wasn’t far, but getting back to the apartment was quite a drive through a bunch of one way streets — eleven minutes total. I parked and started loading while my wife took a quick shower.

Sunrise over Valletta, Malta — photo by author.

We arrived at the terminal at 5h30. We checked in and were asked to join the queue. The ferry was leaving at 7h30, so we figured we had to wait for a while, but five minutes later we were already embarking — security checks weren’t nearly as thorough leaving Malta as they were coming here. At 5h50 we were already in our seats, ready to watch the sun come up over Valletta one last time. We had brought a few board games — never thought I’d play one of these at 6h30 in the morning.

Rest stops Serramendola Est and Sacchitello Nord, Sicily — photos by authorK

The ride was even smoother than the first time. At 9h30 we were back on Italian soil — not that this was something I looked forward to, but it was part of going to Malta by car: no avoiding Italy. It was a 316 km drive to Palermo, Sicily’s capital. Our ferry to Genoa left at 22h00, so we had quite a bit of time to kill. Even with the many speed limits on the Italian highways, which seemed to be under construction all year round, and a bunch of breaks at rest stops, we still managed to arrive in Palermo around 13h30.

Mount Etna in the distance — photo by author (taken from dashcam).

My wife had written down a few useful addresses, one of which a big shopping mall where we could hopefully park in the shade for a while — none of the rest stops had any. We had to drive through the city for a while and we were surprised by how filthy it was. Garbage was piled up everywhere — maybe these services were on strike? — but there was also a lot of trash lying around. Streets were in poor condition and traffic was chaotic, even more so than in Malta. The city looked like I pictured the “wrong” side of São Paolo, as seen in the movies — absolutely unpleasant and unappealing.

Garbage on the side of a street in Palermo, Sicily — photo by author (taken from dashcam).

We found the shopping mall and a spot in the shade — hurrah! We both fiddled around on our tablets and even tried watching the first episode of Spider Noir, but my wife didn’t feel too well because of the heat — it was hotter in Sicily than it had been in Malta. She went to do some shopping in the mall, where it was nice and cool. An hour later she returned with some grapes and two pairs of shoes.

Shade in the shopping mall parking lot — photo by author (taken from dashcam).

Even though we still had several hours of waiting ahead of us, we looked up some additional information. From what we had heard and what the confirmation email had told us, we would have to get a hard copy of the tickets we were to receive by email only four hours before departure. In short: we had to find a print shop around 18h00 in this sorry excuse for a city. Also — and this concerned my wife greatly — we would have to board separately, since passengers had to get out of the vehicle and only the driver was allowed to drive onto the ferry.

But first there was the matter of actually finding the ferry terminal…

Around three in the afternoon I checked my email and had already received our tickets. The company’s website said we needed a hard copy of them, but the help pages said digital was okay too. The info conflicted, so we decided to take our chances without printed tickets.

We still had a few hours, so we first had an improvised dinner at a Lidl parking lot near the harbor, where we had planned on staying until we were supposed to be at the terminal — two hours in advance, so around eight o’clock — but at 18h40 my wife had enough of all the waiting and said: “Fuck it, let’s go. We’ll see what happens.”

Palermo traffic chaos — photo by author (taken from dashcam).

To our surprise, we found the terminal immediately. There was a line and since we were early, we figured it was for another ferry, but it was for ours, already. We checked in at the entrance and were asked to join the queue. We were prepared for at least another hour of waiting, but only ten minutes later the line started to move. I dreaded the security check, as I had heard they could be quite anal, and after this very long day I was not in the mood to unload half the van. We drove up to the first check point; the guy checked the license plate and our ID’s, then asked to see inside the van. I got out, expecting the worst — other vehicles got through without any checks — and I opened the back door. He peeked inside, nodded and said: “Okay” — that was it!

Waiting in line to board, with a view on “La Suprema”, our ferry to Genoa — photo by author.

Next up was the man who had to scan our tickets. As it turned out, digital was no problem — we had been worrying for nothing. Then we drove to the final queue, ready to embark. My wife was a anxious about separate boarding — something to do with old trauma. The motorcycles got on first… and all their passengers were told to get off. Then cars started driving in… with passengers. My wife was very relieved.

On the ferry’s main parking deck — photo by author (taken from dashcam).

At eight o’clock we were already in our cabin! We were glad to finally get out of our clothes. We had opted for the premium cabin, which allowed us late checkout, until 30 minutes before docking. It had a nice big window — too bad it wasn’t cleaned properly on the outside, resulting in a blurry view — and a bathroom with shower — which I got into right away.

Our “premium” cabin on La Suprema — photo by author.

Around eleven we were both knocked out — it had been a long and exhausting day. We had been worried that the rocking of the boat would keep us from getting sleep, but it was alright, or maybe we were just too tired to notice. There were other things to get used to though: the ship, and our cabin in particular, was making all kinds of ticking and creaking noises; in the distance you could hear the drone of the engine and depending on how the wind hit the ship, it sounded like there was someone playing the didgeridoo just outside our window — funny at first, but after 15 minutes I wished there was an actual guy playing so I could throw him overboard.

We hadn’t closed the curtains, as I like to wake up with the first sunlight, and so I did, at around six. Even though it was very early, I felt rested.

One of the lounge areas in the ferry — photo by author.

Around ten we went for a walk to explore the ship a little. It was merely a ferry, but it was meant to look a bit like a cruise ship, complete with a lounge with piano. Just like the many little shortcomings in our cabin, the rest of the ship had clearly seen better days. Constantly going back and forth between destinations without proper maintenance in between had left its mark. During the trip, cleaners were trying to keep the place tidy, but when something is worn or broken, cleaning it won’t make it new again.

The upper deck of La Suprema, with empty pool and closed outside bar — photo by author.

The fact that this was only a domestic trip — even if it took almost twenty hours — meant a lot of the service was basic. There were shops on board, but some were closed or not fully stocked. There was a bar and a restaurant, but the service was no better than the one on the two-hour ferry ride between Malta and Sicily. The food looked sad, but still cost an arm and a leg; it became clear why some passengers — probably regulars — brought a cooler full of food with them.

We decided on the chicken filet sandwich. Ordering proved to be a challenge, as most personnel hardly spoke anything else than Italian — they took “domestic trip” literal. At some point it felt like we were being served by an Italian version of Manuel from Fawlty Towers, but less funny. Eventually we got our sandwiches — €16.40. We went back to our cabin to eat them, while watching the rest of our Spider Noir episode.

Genoa harbor — photo by author (nothing wrong with my camera; photo taken through a dirty window).

The ferry entered Genoa harbor at 17h25 and was properly docked at 17h40. Yet it took almost an hour before disembarkation started; there was no communication whatsoever and people were getting restless.

This was where Italy excelled: the nice intersection of incompetence and inefficiency.

At 18h45 we were finally in our car, but that did not guarantee any exit shortly, as this was not a roll-on roll-off ferry; people had to back up out of their spaces — spaces they already had trouble getting into going forward — and as many were not the best drivers to start with, you can imagine this to be a painfully slow and aggravating process. After fifteen minutes the two “drivers” behind me had finally managed to get out and we were ready to go.

One of several toll gates driving to Sainte-Maxime, France — photo by author (taken from dashcam).

We still had almost 300 km ahead of us and there was no way we’d get to Sainte-Maxime before ten, as I had communicated to my parents, who were vacationing there and were kind enough to offer us a room for three nights.

The drive through the rest of Italy was quite smooth and the roads were actually in rather good condition. We took a short break at a rest stop and had a slice of pizza. Around nine we crossed the French border. We had another 120-something kilometers and several toll gates to go before finally driving over one of the two bridges into Sainte-Maxime. We arrived at my parents’ just before eleven.

Driving into Sainte-Maxime, France — photo by author (taken from dashcam).

[embed]From Belgium to Malta in Eight Days We traveled 2951 kilometers for our next Workawaymedium.com

Comparing our trip to and from Malta

The best way to compare is to and from a stop in France before crossing the Italian border.

Going to Malta, our last French stop was Montbonnot-Saint-Martin. From there the actual driving distance to Malta was 1789 km and it took us five days. The costs involved were:

Toll: 176.40 euro Gas: 229 euro (estimate) Ferries: 321.20 euro Overnight stays: 283.45 euro Grand total: 1010.05 euro

Our return trip went to Sainte-Maxime, which is a bit further into France. The actual driving distance was 608 km, which took us two days, including ferry rides. Fueling up in Malta at the fixed price of 1.21 euro/liter was a bonus.

Toll: 34.40 euro Gas: 55 euro (estimate) Ferries: 617.60 euro Grand total: 707 euro

Taking the night ferry saved us a few overnight stays as well, though we invested a little more to have a cabin, including late checkout and full sea view. Without that luxury, the trip would have cost us 100 euro less, easily — the basic 19.5 hour ferry ride from Sicily to Genoa is actually cheaper than the 1 hour and 45 minutes one from Malta to Sicily.

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[embed]List: Our slow-travel road trip | Curated by Iban Van der Zeyp | Medium Our slow-travel road trip · In March 2025, we left for our road trip through the south of Europe. We slow-travel, doing…medium.com

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