“One’s destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things.” – Henry Miller
There are No Free Rides
I preach about points and miles to anyone who will listen. As a matter of fact, I am funding most of my hotel stays and flights this trip with points and miles.
My flight to Malta was on Condor Air in business class, which I paid for with JetBlue miles. My hotel stay for two weeks in Malta at the 5 star Hyatt Centric was covered by Chase points – yep, the entire two weeks. My next stop, Scotland, is also covered with points, with both Edinburgh and Inverness stays paid for with IHG points and Chase points.
These stays and the airfare would have cost me almost $10,000 if I had paid cash.
But what most people do not tell you when they tell you about the fabulous trips they have taken “for free” is that there are no free rides.
Literally.
I have spent probably $200 on rideshares since arriving in Malta two weeks ago. Yes, I could have taken buses, but Malta’s bus system is confusing, and frankly, I wanted easy this trip. I have walked miles and miles, but some places are just not accessible without wheels – or a ferry.
Food, of course, isn’t covered by points, nor are most of the historic sites you want to visit. You can sometimes use points to purchase excursions through a credit card travel portal, but that 25 euro boat ride is really not the best use of your hard-earned points.
The trick is learning when to use your points and when to use a credit card to earn more. That’s a subject far too extensive to cover in this short post.
But just remember – there are no free rides.
And really, what’s $200 in rideshare charges when your points have already funded $10,000 in travel?
Lost in Valletta
Ok let me just start out by saying I suck at directions. Like seriously suck. I denied it for years, but finally, after being lost in any number of places, I am admitting it to myself and to everyone else.
I was pretty confident I could find my way around Valletta, though. It’s a small city, with two main pedestrian streets, and there are really only two ways to go – up or down. Or so my AI navigator assured me.
Well, after going up and down and up and down and up again, passing tattoo parlors and sidewalk biker bars, I still hadn’t found Republic Street.
One of the problems is the street signs. They don’t say Republic Street, or St. Mark Street, or Melita Street. Street signs are hard to find, and when you do find one, it says something like “Tarxim Zibel Hawn”, which I discovered is Maltese for “Don’t throw rubbish here.”
Not really helpful.
I finally did find Republic Street and St. John’s Co-Cathedral, but only after asking in the tattoo parlor and climbing approximately 1000 stairs.
But as is often the case, being lost proved to be one of the best things I did that day. I found little alleyways and hidden local spots to grab a bite and a drink, and saw much more of the city than just the parts most tourists stick to.
Valletta is easy to get to. If you are in St. Julian’s or Sliema, there is a ferry every 30 minutes that takes you directly there for 5 euros round trip.
Once you get to the harbor, though, there is a pretty wicked hike up hills and stairs to get to the city.
Valletta is not really built for those with mobility issues. The sidewalks are narrow, often only one person wide. And they are steep – so steep, in fact, that many have steps carved into them. There are staircases to climb everywhere.
Like much of Europe, getting around can be a challenge without ramps or lifts in most places.
But if you are able to make the climb, it’s well worth the effort.
Just keep telling yourself: There is gelato up top.
Nowhere to be… and everywhere to go
Sitting in the Air France lounge at Boston Logan waiting for my Condor business class flight to Malta via Frankfurt, I thought about the leap of faith I had taken to get there. From working my entire life to suddenly be doing exactly what I’ve always wanted to do – explore. Explore places and cultures and new experiences with no roots and no safety net. And very little money.
It hasn’t been easy. It’s taken lots of planning and lots of letting go of material things. You see, I started selling off my belongings almost a year ago, until I moved out of the condo I had lived in for 14 years and owned nothing that didn’t fit in a carryon and a personal item. And I’ve been strategically amassing credit card points and miles to help fund my travels. After all, I am no longer willing to sit by the back toilet on a plane or stay in hostels. I’m adventurous, not a masochist.
My choice has raised a few eyebrows. I don’t have a hefty retirement fund, I travel alone, and I’m not choosing the traditional retirement path of golf and pickleball and occasional travel, but always to return home to a house of stuff accumulated over years.
Instead, I have no home to return to. For now, wherever I happen to be is home. I honestly have no idea how long I’ll keep doing this – or where I’ll end up. But that is part of the fun.
Anyway, back to the subpar Air France lounge in Boston. I was not impressed. Grateful to be able to wait for my flight in a lounge, but not impressed. It was crowded and the food left much to be desired, even if they did have brie.
As I travel, I will share my opinions of lounges and airlines and hotels and cities, but this is not exclusively a travel blog. I will share how I funded much of it, but this is not a points and miles blog. I’m a retired solo female traveler on a budget, but I won’t write exclusively about any of that. I’m also a reader and a writer, so some of that may be sprinkled in. And I’m a dorky Star Trek fan, so I think I’ll just end by saying:
“These are the voyages…”
