The Curious Case of the Mdina Misfits and the Gozitan Ghost

Chapter 1: A Windy Encounter in Valletta

It was a blustery day in Valletta, the kind that sent tourists huddling into the cozy recesses of any café offering a steaming cup of tea and what could pass for a slice of ħobż biż-żejt. Carmelu, a dockyard worker with a penchant for tall tales, was huffing his way up the Barrakka Lift when he overheard a group of expats.

“Ooh, I heard there’s a ghost in Gozo!” one exclaimed, accent as thick as treacle. “They say it’s haunting the Azure Window, demanding ġbejniet!”

Carmelu smirked. If there’s one thing he loved more than a hot pastizz, it was a chance to spin a yarn. “Uwejja, my friends! You want ghost stories? You’ve come to the right island!” he chuckled, eager to share the tale of the Gozitan Ghost.

Chapter 2: The Mdina Misfits

Meanwhile in Mdina, the ancient silent city, three friends, Toninu the tour guide, Lisabetta the librarian, and Dun Kikku the defrocked priest, were conspiring beneath the shadow of the imposing cathedral. Toninu flicked a crumb of timpana from his shirt and addressed his peers.

“I tell you; this ghost business is killing our tours!” he exclaimed. “We need to bust this spook, or our wallets will starve like a fisherman during a storm!”

A plan was hatched, one so cunning that it would require all their wits, a couple of fake social media accounts, and a dubious potion from Wied iż-Żurrieq’s least reputable potion master.

Chapter 3: The Social Media Specter

Lisabetta tweeted to her fourteen followers: “Dun Kikku and I have caught the ghost on camera! Unveiling soon at the Mdina Dungeons – #GozoGhost #MdinaMisfits.”

The tweet was a masterpiece of modern misinformation, and within hours the hashtag was trending. Suddenly, energy drink companies and TV ghost hunters were clamoring to sponsor the reveal.

Chapter 4: Dungeon Drama

On the night of the uncovering, the Mdina Dungeons were alive with flickering candlelight and the echoes of eager whispers. A projector was set up, casting larger-than-life shadows on the ancient stone walls. As Toninu walked up to unveil the ‘footage,’ a real chill crawled up everyone’s spine.

“My fellow Maltesers,” Toninu addressed the brimming room, “we’re about to expose the truth behind…” But before he could finish, the lights went out.

A Sudden Twist

When the lights flickered back to life, the projector was gone, and so was Dun Kikku. Toninu’s jaw dropped to the floor like an overcooked ravjul.

“Il-ġobon tiegħi!” Lisabetta gasped, “The ghost stole Dun Kikku!”

Chapter 5: The Gozitan Revelation

Underneath the clandestine moonlight, a boat skimmed across the waves to Gozo, carrying a baffled Dun Kikku and his projector heist. Upon docking, he was met by none other than the fabled Gozitan Ghost, a spectral figure shrouded in mystery.

The Twist No One Expected

“Kollox OK?” the ghost asked, with a snicker that was anything but ethereal.

It was Carmelu, in a bed sheet, with a story so preposterous that even he was surprised it worked. All his talk in Valletta had been a ruse to drum up business for Gozo’s new ‘Ghost Tours’!

“And I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for you meddling mainlanders!” he cackled, as he and Dun Kikku sipped on a Cisk by the moonlit remains of the Azure Window.

Chapter 6: Cultural Comeuppance

The expats, locals, and even the reluctant ghost hunters eventually forgave the shenanigans, enchanted by the Maltese ingenuity and humor behind the deed. Toninu’s tours became more popular than ever, Lisabetta started a “Mysteries of Malta” blog, and Dun Kikku found his calling as Gozo’s first and only spectral guide.

Their adventures had bonded them in a way no ghost ever could. As they say in the Maltese islands, “Mela, a good laugh is the għana of life!” And that, dear readers, was no phantom fable.

So the next time you hear a ghostly tale emanating from the cobbled streets of Mdina or across the Gozitan cliffs, remember: it might just be a crafty local with a sheet and a story, ready to share a laugh and a pint, in the spirited heart of the Mediterranean.