Made the most of Friday.

Last time we went by foot and ferry to Valletta we were intent on visiting the Co-Cathedral. Today we did. And if you're old you can get in for 25% less. Benefits, love them.

Awe. Sit. Look. Wonder.

I have to say that nothing, nothing prepared me for the shock that awaited. I've read about this place, I could bore you to death with the little I know about The Knights Hospitallers but all I can say is "go." Visit it. I've never seen anything like it, possibly because there probably isn't. Even my friend from Exmouth, not known for his appreciation of churches but an expert on all things motivated by steam told me that I had to go and that after I'd been I wouldn't believe what I'd seen. I know there's Florence, Venice and The Sistine Chapel and I haven't seen them but this must be up there.

Entry is through barriers, exit is, too but between the two sets of barriers I can't describe to you the majesty, the overwhelming and slightly uncomfortable feeling of personal perspectve being amended, realigned. There are quite a few seats which is just as well because sitting and contemplating the wonders surrounding you is an irresistable desire. At one point I looked across and the only other person I knew in that place was sat opposite contemplating, too.

On and on

The detail, the colour, the story on the ceilings, the sublime art of the Lengua chapels off the nave, the gravity of history enshrined by the tombstones from which the floor is made.Words? None worth writing even if I had the linguistic nous. A film by Simon Schama? Possibly. A visit? Definitely. I'll go again.

However, as someone who has stood in front of a few of Caravaggio's finest the most thrilling experience was to walk around the curtain of the Oratorio and find oneself face to face with his "Beheading of John The Baptist." At nearly 6m x 4m it's size was completely unexpected. And not a little overwhelming. I knew it was big but this!

Standing in front of it you were not looking at a painting as much as you were in the cell witnessing the event. I could wax lyrical but to do so is pointless, It was the highlight of my art education thus far.

Maltese Cross

It's not his muted hues, or his narrow colour palette, it's not the seamless depiction of people. It's the humanity he conveys in emotion, in the eyes of his subjects. It's always the eyes. The stance of the people he paints which as an ensemble tell the story in whole even though he only paints a part.

Here's the executioner lifting The Baptists head a little after the throat has been cut to let the life run out with his cleaver of a knife held behind his back, the young girl with the platter waiting to deliver her mistresses's request, the older lady stood leaning slightly forwards, head in hands showing the only sign of sorrow in the room, the gaoler pointing and exhorting the executioner to get on with it and the two other prisoners bent as they peer to witness the event from behind their own bars.

John, hands bound behind his back lying pale, blood flowing, waist covered by a red cloak. The flowing red draws the eye initially but acts as a centre point and a line which underlines the composition.

No element that isn't essential and even the space occupied by the blank wall of the lower right quarter drawing attention to the fact that this was done behind closed doors and only the essential characters necessary for the deed to be done are in the frame. The other two prisoners only there because the deed was suddenly requested and hastily carried out. No time to move them.

The perfection of his lighting.

And Caravaggio's signature in the blood. The only signature of his in existence.

Furthermore, standing in front of this monster master you are standing where Michelangelo Merisida de Caravaggio stood when he was removed from The Most High Order of The Knights Hospitallers of Malta for being Caravaggio. A very rare ocurrence in The Knights' history but somehow very Caravaggio.

How long did we look at this? No idea, a long, long time. Long enough for a security lady to take exception to a lady with a smartphone taking noisy photos of the painting directly in front of the "No Photos or Videos" signs. Why didn't she put her phone into silent mode and wait for the security lady to leave the room?

Moving on from here there are rooms of Vestments (stunning) and tapestries, but we were in Bayeux a couple of months ago.

Once outside in the courtyard we sat and contemplated some more. Then we found a Pastizzi or two and caught the ferry home. Once home we felt that we should sample some more Caravaggio goodness and that we ought to support our local Italian next door.

Magnificent day. Privileged. 

Extreme left, our door. Italian Gelateria for a Friday treat. Been a long week!