The Way – The Truth

This is a true story.

We talk about God moving in mysterious ways, but is it mysterious or is it simply his plan for us.

Coming to the end of a five week pilgrimage, of my own design, following apostle Paul’s final journey from his shipwreck in Malta to his execution and final resting place in Rome.

It was an amazing journey, an emotional and powerful realisation of really how important, Paul was and what he did to introduce Christianity to the gentiles.

So, having completed my mission, the pilgrimage, uncovering the true locations where biblical references actually happened and not simply visiting tourist attractions, it was time to head back to Malta.

What follows is a brief outline of the next 48 hours where my faith would be sorely tested, but it ended in tears oh joy! It was simply God’s plan to show me the way to have Crystal Clear Faith.

So to set the scene I had two mobile phones, one my fullback phone it had its data roaming package canceled by the vendor why I know not. So this phone was hopeless outside of an environment that had free Wi-Fi.

Also my bank had advised me not to install their banking app on a second phone in case their system recognized it as fraud and could stop me accessing the banking app completely.

My primary phone, it’s battery had become “cooked” practally dead due to constant recharging whilst travelling. A maximum charge would be three to six percent, hardly time at all to do even logins to the numerous apps that are required when traveling.

This was not a package holiday, I was designing my route and stays on the hoof, as I had to “find” the actual places where Paul had been and not tgectiurust traps. So my banking app was essential to make flights and accommodation purchases.

Paramount.

These issues alone were very unsettling.

So from Rome I made my way to Cantania airport in Sicily by a numerous trains Ferries and buses to arrive at the airport at 12 noon and my flight was at 9: 20 p m that evening, so almost nine and a half hours to wait.

Ah ha!

There was an earlier Ryanair flight at 3 25 pm surely I could get a transferred onto that flight saving me the extra six hours waiting. A Ryanair desk clerk happened to be walking past and I asked

Excuse me, is there somewhere I can speak to someone about resheduling my flight only the battery on my phone keeps dying.

No she said, you need to charge your phone or queue up. That’s nice I thought.

So, I tried the app!

Bearing in mind my secondary phone couldn’t be used because of my banking app linking with any of my travel apps. This was an important point.

I turn on the phone 3% battery . I opened the Ryanair app, insert my login details

please try again later.

Phone dies. Hmm I’ll have to try and charge the phone again. I find a charger socket in the arrivals area and I charge the phone for one and a half hours, 6% charge.

Okay let’s get in the queue it’s now almost 2: 00 p.m.

I que for almost an hour and hardly make a dent in the queue.

Let’s try the app again. Login. Please try again later. Phone dies. It’s now close to 3 p m I give up on trying to get the 3:25pm flight.

Resigned to having to wait for the 9:20pm flight, and retired to the the arrivals area and put the phone back on charge again. At four thirty, I thought I’ll check in and go through to the departure lounge for something to eat.

Having queued for another hour and a half I get to the check-in desk I try to access the Ryanair app necessary to check in, you guess it please try again later phone dies.

Luckily I did have a paper copy of the QR code for checking because my feared this might happen. That will be 55 euros surcharge sir.

On top of a 75 Euro flight. Hey ho, in we go.

Only 4 hours’ish to wait.

I grabbed some food and a drink and messed around with my secondary phone as I have Wi-Fi connection in the airport.

8: 30 p.m. the gate is called. Hoards flood to the priority boarding section, I haven’t got priority boarding so I wait in an area to the side.

Priority boarding starts to board. I wait. Some minutes pass and the hoard had now gone through. I go to the Clerks on the desk and ask if I can board now. No, they said the gate is closed.

What! I exclaimed. The gates is closed and you cannot get on the flight. I cannot believe it. Now this is just within the first 14 hours of this 48 hour nightmare!

With absolutely no help whatsoever from the airline, I had to leave the airport and try and find somewhere to stay for the night. Having been on the bus earlier that traveled through Cantania, I realised this was not a particularly friendly looking town to be wandering around it at now 10: 30pm. I managed to find a beaten up old cab.

Thinking on my feet asked the driver to take me to a four-star Hotel. This would not normally be my way of thinking, but I didn’t want to end up in a back street somewhere with absolutely no idea where I was as I had one dead phone and one phone that had no 4G signal because of the suspended contract.

Eventually he got me to a lovely Hotel and the staff there were amazing. 25 Euros for the cab 140 Euros for the hotel for the night. Plus of course the 55 euros for the paper check-in the 75 Euros for the missed flight and the 120 euros for the hotel I had pain in advance for that night in Malta. Besides the hassle that’s a total of 415 euros, to date, and I still had to get to Malta on Christmas Eve.

Now what should I do?

It seemed unlikely that I was going to be able to book a flight on my phone due to dead battery and my other phone not being linked to the banking app.

I grabbed a beer sat down in the lobby and pondered on the dilema.

Eureka! I’ll get a cab to cut your airport we’re a bus then goes to the ferry port on the southernmost part of Sicily and get the hydrofoil from there to Valletta, Malta, and then a bus to St. Paul’s Bay.

No pre-booking required should be easy.

So the next morning a cab, as arranged, picked me up and dropped me at the bus terminal where I was able to purchase a bus ticket to the ferry terminal. 25 Euros for the taxi. The bus was 2.5 euros, very cheap.

Now, as far as I could make out the bus would go to the ferry terminal and it looked as though there were two stops before getting to the dock.

After an hour’s wait the bus finally came and I got on board. It was to be approximately a two hour journey so I made my way to the back of the bus thinking that if I had room, I could put my feet up and have a bit of a nap as it had been an emotionally draining last 24 hours.

A younger Italian man came and sats at the other end of the five seater backseat of the bus. We both kept ourselves to ourselves, and off the bus set.

About an hour and 45 minutes the bus stops.

There is absolutely zero communication from the driver, no signs within the bus, nothing to say where we were. A few people stood up to get off, so did I, but I hesitated I could see the dockside in the distance and I thought the bus stopped at the dock and that is why not everyone was getting off.

It must be one of the stops in between, so I thought.

The bus starts off again and after a few minutes it starts turning off into the hills away from the coast.

The young gentlemen the other end of the back row asked me, in broken English, “were you looking to get off for the ferry?” “Yes”, I said.

He said I’m not 100% sure, but I think you’ve missed it. As the bus continued to drive off into the hills, I became very unsettled, and I asked him should I try and get off the bus, he said “no, there is nothing here”.

So, we head off further into the hills, off grid, no Google Maps, no comms, nothing.

He saw how concerned I was and said not to worry, that when we get to the next town, which is where he was getting off and used to live, he would help me get back to the ferry terminal. Wow, is this my guardian angel sitting on his shoulder.

The bus continued for another half an hour, and stopped! For some reason someone from the front of the bus came to the back shouting quiet loudly in Italian and gesturing with his arms as most Italians, Sicilians and Maltese seem too, Simone, as I came to find out his name was, translated that if I get off the bus here, someone will come past and drive me back to the terminal. I look out of the window and we’re in the middle of nowhere.

I look at Simone and he looks at me and shakes his head and gestures with his hand under his chin in a motion of cutting his throat…that needed no translation to me.  No he says to the man, in Italian, we will get off at the next town.

The bus continues for another 20 minutes.

The bus arrives and everyone gets off. Simone says there’s a cafe here and they’ll know all about the buses to be able to get back.

We go in. Simone talks with the staff there are lots of shaking of heads. I don’t speak Italian.

A Sicilian who looked as if he had stepped out of a Godfather film, start his shouting and pointing out the window.

Simone translates that the man’s brother owns a taxi and he’ll take me to the terminal.

Simon and I look at each other and Simon shakes his head and gestures with his hand again. We get a coffee and sit outside the cafe.

Simone, says don’t worry I’ll call my father and he will drive us back to the terminal.

Now this terminal is 45 minutes and away it transpires that Simone has traveled all the from Bali to where we are to see his mother and father for Christmas, he must have been tired and he hadn’t seen his mother for a long time, but when he said they would take me to the terminal and that everything was going to be alright, I hadn’t realised at that point how my faith had been fully tested and that I had been loaded with stress and fear. But in a moment the fear just drained out of me and I felt the love of Godwash over me.

Why did I even doubt God’s protection? which had been so very evident for the past 4 1/2 weeks.

As we waited for Simone’s father to arrive, I asked Simone what he did for his work. He told me he was a software developer and worked in Malta for an Italian company, but had been visiting his friends in Bali who are also developers and work remotely, and this was Simone’s dream to work in Bali as a remote software developer.

Oh WOW! I used to have my own software company, only small outfit, but we did some really good work, including an Incident Management System for the 2012 Olympic Games, so not too shabby. I had an office in Kherson, Ukraine, 2009-2013, where it was run by a Ukrainian called Kosta. Now in 2023, I sponsored Kosta and his family into the UK because of his business  collapsed in Ukraine because of the Russian aggression.

Since Kosta movd to the UK he has worked hard to rebuild his business, using remotely based software developers around the world…What a coincidence.

Fully refreshed in my faith and my heart feeling brand new, it was obvious to me that this last two days happened for me to meet Simone. Immediately I knew I could put him in contact with Kosta and see if there’s a possibility that Kosta can help him realise his dream.

They are now in contact, and Simone is now a new friend of mine.

Simone and his father took me on a quick tour of their home town and to their regionally famous church of Saint George. Walking around the church and taking some pictures, I began to weep tears or pure joy.

Hallelujah!