“When you travelled to America, Sieħbi,” I asked, “what percentage of the Americans you met knew where Malta is?”

“None”, he answered. “And when I went to Canada last year, they said ‘Malta? Why, isn’t that just a bunch of rocks in the Mediterranean.’ ”

Maybe. But what a beautiful stack of rocks it is.

Fortresses, cathedrals, fountains and palms rising above the clear Mediterranean dotted with sail boats and water taxis. And yachts. Lots of yachts. Huge modern sailing ships and sleek floating palaces.

The Martha Ann is docked here waiting for her next charter. To charter the Martha Ann will cost you $575,000 a week. You will have room for 13 friends. The 22 crew members are included, but the cost of food and drink are not.

Along with yachts come seaside restaurants and bars that cater to the sailing crowd. And those like us who come to watch the sun set behind the masts and the streets of Isla, the peninsula to our west.

We caught a water taxi over to Valletta, the capitol of Malta. From the dock we took the elevator up to the city rather than walking the five stories to the top. Set into the cliffs and with a magnificent view from just about every street along St. John’s square, this exotic and lovely city was a great place to sit and sip an Aperol spritzer and people watch.

And after a meal of thin pasta packets stuffed with gorgonzola cheese and served over pistachios with a sweet brown sauce, I wandered the smaller streets and found a button and lace shop and a spice shop.

Valletta looks like Bagdad (so says my Iraqi friend Israa).

This is mainly due to the Mashrabiya windows that adorn many of the buildings. These Arabic bay windows are cantilevered over the street and allow occupants to see what is happening on the streets below without themselves being seen. Painted a variety of colors, adorned differently and found at varying heights on each building, they add a great deal of interest to the street scape.

Malta’s film industry is strong. It stands in for many currently unsafe middle east countries and both films and television shows are made here. A few Game of Thrones episodes were filmed here along with a Colin Firth film and at least six other films in the past year.

Using the seclusion of the bottom of a cliff and bringing in sets built on barges and positioned just so, there is currently a film being made that is set in Turkey. From the water taxi we could see the Turkish flag hanging and uniformed 1940s Turkish guards drinking from their modern plastic water bottles as they waited between takes.

But Malta is not all yachts, film and Mashrabiya.

A few days ago we went to Birgu Fest. This is when the mediaeval streets of the city of Birgu are lit with candles only. Street lights are turned off, and every building is adorned with white or red candles inside set in lines at eye level in every alley and crook in the village.

Ron and I wandered the alleys early in the evening when the sky was still a deep, royal blue. The alleys were still visible in the dusk light and the effect was transforming. Candles hung from every wall in long curving lines. They hung just above our heads filling the streets with floating fairy lights. They adorned every doorway and many interiors.

Magical.

Families also leave their normally shuttered windows wide open to show off the beauty of their homes lit in elaborate decorative candlelight.

We are not talking about a few lovely candelabra on the dining table. These are candle tableaus used to illustrate the personality of the owner.

Sadly, my camera is not the best for low light, so I don’t have crisp photos. But I hope these give you some idea.

Here is one where an owner has created a red river through her living room.

And another where the eight point Maltese star is the focus.

And finally a set of stairs that send a welcome message.

Later in the evening the crowds arrived. In mass. “Mardi gras”, said Ron (our private term for “too many people”) and we retreated to our apartment for an hour of rest and to listen to the ethnic Maltese music from our balcony window.

Later, around 11:00, I went out again on my own. Most of the crowds had gone home, many to put the children down and to put up tired feet. I had the alleys all to myself.

The candles were still burning, still creating a fairy world among the ancient stone buildings.

After strolling for a few minutes in the glowing quiet I watched as another woman stopped and sat on a step, quietly absorbing the beauty.

I followed suit, finding my own alley where the silent glow of candlelight illuminated something inside of me. Something quiet. Something soft.

Something simply magical.