The Unlikely Tale of Ċikku and the Mdina Time-Traveling Ħobż Biż-Żejt

Chapter 1: A Pastizzi-Free Predicament

Once upon a time, in the bustling village of Sliema, lived a man named Ċikku, known for his peculiar passion for Maltese folklore and an unshakable belief in time travel. Ċikku’s friends often joked that he was born a few centuries too late—or too early, depending on whether his latest experiments involved 18th-century għonnella or AI-powered luzzus. Famed just as much for his eccentricity as his inability to cook, Ċikku was found at his local pastizzeria more often than at his own home.

The Innovative Quest

It was a day like any other, or so it seemed. The sun in Valletta shone its golden rays upon the well-trodden streets. But for Ċikku, this was to be no ordinary day. He made what he thought was his usual order at Tony’s Pastizzeria: two pea pastizzi, a tuna ftira, and, on a whim, a ħobż biż-żejt with extra kapunata—a decision that would change his life forever.

Ħobż Biż-Žejt of Destiny

Little did he know that the humble sandwich in his hand was to transport him not just through the flavors of Malta but through time itself. With a single bite of the tomato-infused, oil-soaked Maltese bread, Ċikku’s world went spinning.

“Mela, what’s happening? Uwejja, is this a prank, or did I just hit my head on that darn door again?” Ċikku pondered aloud.

Chapter 2: The Mdina Misadventure

A Step Back in Time

He blinked his eyes open to the sight of horses and carriages. His modern, bustling Sliema had been replaced by the ancient, silent city of Mdina. The sound of his smartphone alerts was replaced by the clip-clop of hooves on cobblestones. It struck him—he was no longer in 2023 but in some distant past. And there was his favorite ħobż biż-żejt, lying beside him on the ground, with one bite that took him centuries back.

When in Mdina…

In a bewildered state, Ċikku decided to play along, wrapping himself in a nearby tarp he mistook for a historical cape. He waltzed confidently into what he assumed was some sort of historical reenactment only for reality to slap him harder than a winter wave at Ġnejna Bay. Young lads called out, “Mister, what kind of trousers are those?” referring to his jeans. “And why is your shirt glowing?!” they inquired, fascinated by his fluorescent gym tee.

The Introduction of Fra ‘Xmun il-Qawwi

That’s when he was approached by a portly fellow with a mustache that defied gravity, introducing himself as Fra ‘Xmun il-Qawwi, guardian of Mdina’s secrets and occasional falconer. Fra ‘Xmun, more intrigued by Ċikku’s digital watch than his sudden appearance, extended an offer to lead him through this echo of yesteryear.

Chapter 3: A Rabbit Stew Revelation

Time-hopping Hospitality

Being a good host, Fra ‘Xmun invited Ċikku to dine. A table spread with rabbit stew, Malta’s go-to comfort food, promised a taste of the past—the literal kind, this time. Ċikku hesitated, reminded of his disastrous cooking endeavors, which once involved a rabbit, a smoke detector, and disgruntled neighbors.

A Bunny Twist

As Ċikku dug into the stew, a hare-brained idea was served: What if this jump in time was his foray into a Malta untainted by overtourism, where his historical knowledge could shine? As if reading his thoughts, Fra ‘Xmun leaned in closer.

“You know, Ċikku, history has its ways of teaching us—sometimes it’s through books, sometimes through rabbit stew; other times, it’s through a heartily soaked ħobż biż-żejt.”

The Technicolor Clock Strikes

Before Ċikku could respond, everything turned a hue of vibrant colors, like the fireworks during the Festa Season. Ċikku’s ticket back to the future was beckoning as his inadvertent guide, the ħobż biż-żejt on the ground, glowed ominously.

Chapter 4: The Return and the Twist

One Last Crunch

With a melancholic smile, Ċikku took one last look at Mdina’s medieval charm, grabbed the sandwich, and bit down with purpose. In an instant, he was back in Sliema’s sun-kissed morning. Tony from the pastizzeria peered at him curiously as Ċikku stood dazed with a cheek full of ħobż biż-żejt.

Was it Real or Halluci-Nation?

Could it be that he hallucinated the entire ordeal? Tony waved a hand in front of Ċikku’s face.

“Ejja, Ċikku! You’ve been standing there like Il-Maqlub Statue down in Gozo. Kollox sew? And your sandwich looks like it’s been through a time machine, ha!” Tony joked unwittingly.

The Unexpected Souvenir

Just as Ċikku was about to agree with Tony’s vision of a time machine mishap, he noticed something. Tucked in his gym tee’s pocket was a Mdina glass paperweight he certainly hadn’t possessed earlier. It glimmered as if affirming—history had given him more than just a scare; it gave him a tale, a nostalgic memento, and a newfound appreciation for the classics…like a good ħobż biż-żejt, transcending time and space.

Epilogue: Ċikku’s Chronicle

A Newfound Fame

As news spread of Ċikku’s adventure, every bite of ħobż biż-żejt came with a side of speculation. Tourists flooded Tony’s Pastizzeria, hoping for their own time-traveling experience. But for Ċikku, who was now of local legend status, he was content savoring every aspect of modern Malta—he even learned to cook his own rabbit stew, just in case history decided to bite back.

And that, dear readers, was how Ċikku’s mundane morning turned into a historical hop that made the leap from our sunny island’s past to the punchline of the present. Mela, next time you pick up your ħobż biż-żejt, remember—the key to time travel might just be in the extra kapunata.