In this week’s series of Malta in the Spotlight: its straight to the enchanting island of Gozo to discover Wied il Għasri. But, before I whisk you away, let me tell you that of all the amazing things to see and do Wied il Għasri is an absolute!
Wied means valley in Maltese. A fitting name for a turquoise gorge stretching some 300 meters into a stunning bay. The valley is located on the north of Gozo and getting there is quite the adventure in itself. Of course, you can drive there, but, that’s not the only way. You can hike too, starting out from Dbieġi Hill, where you’ll soon discover Wied il Għasri flows between Żebbuġ and Ġordan Hill.
However, you choose to get to Wied il Għasri you’re in for a treat. It’s an unforgettable place, so today I thought I’d tell you about my first visit.
I can vividly remember the first time I stumbled onto Wied Il-Ghasri…
Through stubborn prickly pear branches, I made out two giant cliffs on either side, with a shock of blue flowing through effortlessly. A stark contrast to the lunchtime rush I left behind in Victoria only 20 minutes earlier. Saturdays tend to be a much quieter day to explore. But even for late May, it was oh so quiet—bar the odd buzzing from insects or the squabbling of a few birds.
As I stood atop of the valley, I couldn’t help but feel small, completely taken in by the beauty of the scene unfurling in front of me. There wasn’t anything else but nature’s touch—no beach facilities or anything else interfering with nature’s creation. So it was only right I stood there. You know, just to drink in the enormity of the moment.
“You see, Wied Il-Ghasri has this ethereal and old-world charm. It’s just rugged limestone cliffs surrendering to the Mediterranean sea. And being here makes you feel lucky to have stumbled upon such natural beauty. The simplicity draws in all your senses, making you present to the scene,” I said aloud to my sister, my voice echoing in the stillness of the valley.
Eager to get closer for a better view, I navigated down a number of steep makeshift steps, silently thanking whoever it was that had cut into the face of the high cliffs. But I couldn’t get down fast enough. In that moment, the steps heightened the tension, becoming the antagonist in this tale, getting between me and Wied Il-Ghasri.
Walking down to the bay, the salty breeze picked up, and the taste of the sea was in the air. The silence was no more, and I began to hear the rhythmic pace of the marbled water strumming against the rugged cliffs—a sound so electric it gave me goosebumps.
Finally, I reached the bottom, excitedly stepping onto a tiny pebbly beach, the result of the power of the Mediterranean Sea. No one else was around, and the solitude amplified the feeling of being present—a moment when time stood still, and the world seemed to hush in awe.
I stood undistracted at the edge of the water and realised I had been holding my breath the entire time. I exhaled, watching the blue water flow seamlessly through the valley. Then I noticed the small underwater caves, remembering briefly that someone—I can’t think now—had mentioned this is a great diver’s spot.
I looked back up at the valley and down again, trying my hardest to commit this moment to memory. “We are always in a rush, moving through life on autopilot, but when was the last time you took a moment to just stop and stare?” I thought to myself. So I sat back on the pebbly beach, and that’s exactly what I did.
