Name: Rupert Grech
Age: Never too old or too young to travel
Occupation: Former school headmaster, author of Stories My Parents Told Me – Tales of Growing Up in Wartime Malta (Faraxa Publishing) and occasional singer/guitarist, playing in bars and restaurants.

My earliest travel memory…

Travelling by car in a Maltese convoy of relatives on our way to an annual camping holiday on the central coast of NSW, Australia. Invariably, someone would get lost or be late, much to everyone’s panic.

Coming from Malta, my aunts and uncles were not accustomed to, what they considered, long-distance road trips. A couple of hours by car is really insignificant to Australians, but to my parents and their siblings it was an odyssey. Planning took weeks and we would wake up at the crack of dawn to start the trip.

Sleeping in a tent with cousins, playing on huge, sandy beaches and eating all that great Maltese food my aunts prepared made for great memories.

My best holiday ever…

Doing the Australian young person’s obligatory backpacking tour of Europe. I think I grew a lot as a human in those six months. I travelled by train all through Western Europe, skied for a week in Saint Moritz and stayed with friends in Copenhagen and London.

I once tried to wish the mother of an Italian girl, who invited me to dinner, goodnight. Unfortunately, I think it came out ‘good nuts’

Spain, the Greek Islands and Italy were highlights. I also visited Malta for the first time, met my nanna Lucia, who features strongly in my book, and stayed at the same three-roomed apartment in Ħamrun, where my mother and her nine siblings were raised.

I would never return to…

Sophia airport. I was stuck there for two days during communist times, while an official tried to embezzle me out of $50 for a transfer I had already booked. I had to sleep on hard airport seats while the stalemate continued, with neither the official nor I giving in. The airport cafeteria didn’t even have any milk for coffee. Finally, the official told me to get on a plane with about five minutes’ notice. But the airport is probably fine these days.

The most dangerous place I’ve visited…

I stay away from dangerous places; not a risk taker. However, I did accidentally wander into a red light district somewhere in Spain. I can’t remember which city it was, but as I walked down the street, women kept making me offers, including one quite large woman who dropped her price about four times in the time it took me to walk past.

My favourite city…

I loved Rome, but didn’t stay for a very long time and would like to visit again, for a longer time. But I would have to say London is my favourite city, probably because I lived and worked there for a few months and got to know it reasonably well. I loved the West End and enjoyed the theatre and concerts very much.

My most treasured holiday souvenir…

An Avshar rug from Malataya in eastern Turkey. Beautiful workmanship, with lots of embroidered, colourful fish that made it unique, coming from a desert village in Iraq; the story was that the weaver’s family must have had some connection with the coast. I got it for a bargain from the absent owner’s assistant, who seemingly sold it to me for the wrong price because he was well and truly yelled at when the shop owner returned.

My biggest gaffe abroad…

Walking into the wrong toilet in Spain. Hasn’t everyone done that? I also once tried to wish the mother of an Italian girl, who invited me home for dinner one evening, goodnight. Unfortunately, with my poor Italian, I think it came out ‘good nuts’.

The friendliest people…

I think the Maltese are among the friendliest in the world and my observation is that they are incredibly patient with tourists; but the title goes to Turkey. I could not believe how hospitable, considerate and friendly they were towards me, even inviting me to stay at their home and share their food.

I remember I could not stand on the street looking at a map for more than a minute or two without someone offering to help me; once a man got on a bus, paid the fare and took me to where I wanted to go.

I never travel without...

A calculator for currency conversions; I’m mathematically challenged. I also try to always travel with an open mind. I get really annoyed at people who criticise and expect things to be like ‘back home’ when they travel to a foreign country.

My all-time favourite holiday photo...

The one from Urfa, near the Turkish-Syrian border, showing the entrance to the souk. I just love the composition and the element of frozen time. It was the one positive thing I remember, as I was sick with diarrhoea, in a cheap hotel room, for most of the time I was there.

An unforgettable hotel...

A cheap hotel in Athens. I thought it strange and a little disconcerting that there was no lock on the room’s door. I kept noticing men wandering the corridor and the very frequent showers of the guest in the room next to mine. I had accidentally booked into a bordello! (I’ve just realised that there seems to be a pattern emerging here.).

I return most often to...

Haven’t found that place yet (besides Malta, of course).

My ideal travel companion...

A wealthy, native speaker with transport. Or Regina Spector, the musician. To be honest, I am something of a loner and enjoy travelling on my own, and meeting people along the way.

I always remember mornings in youth hostels during that first big backpacking trip in Europe when I would often wake, shower and breakfast, while couples would still be deciding/arguing over where to go or what to do that day.

My next holiday plans…

I have to visit Ireland one day, with my guitar; maybe during my next six months in Malta. I just love listening to Irish accents and the way the people speak; I made an Irish girl laugh once when I told her I thought the Irish had a roundabout way of saying things. The pubs sound like a lot of fun and the scenery looks beautiful.

My dream trip…

… is never-ending.

My travel tip…

Carefully pack what you absolutely need, then halve it. Also, keep a watch with the current time of the place you departed from to help you regulate sleep and minimise jet lag.

I travel because…

“Life is like a book and those who do not travel read but one page,” said St Augustine of Hippo. Travelling develops a personality in so many ways. It is a cliché to say it broadens horizons, but it does so much more.

I believe it opens the mind to possibilities, ideas and thoughts that could never come from anything else.

The closest thing to travelling is reading, but I don’t believe reading can replicate the intensity of feelings that travelling can.

I also believe travelling can build acceptance of other cultures and paradigms. I deliberately use the term ‘acceptance’ rather than ‘tolerance’. I dislike the word tolerance, as to tolerate something has a negative connotation and is not in the same spirit as acceptance.

Rupert Grech is a first-generation Australian born of Maltese immigrants.