A Most Peculiar Hunting Trip in the Heart of Gozo

It was a sunny Sunday morning in Gozo, where *il-fenek* enjoyed more popularity than the latest Eurovision entry. Carmelo, a man whose idea of a wild chase typically involved running after a blown-away *ħobża biż-żejt* at family picnics, decided that this was the day he’d become a bonafide hunter. “Today, I’ll bag me a rabbit faster than you can say *minn fejn ġej il-ħoss*,” he declared to his skeptical wife, Paulina, who was more concerned about him tripping over his own feet than actually hitting a target.

The Unlikely Assemblage

A motley crew comprised his hunting party. There was Twanny, the barbershop philosopher with a shotgun that looked like it had come straight out of a Spaghetti Western; Rita, the iron-willed nanna whose muffin baking skills were as deadly as her aim; and lastly, little Claudio, their nine-year-old neighbor who was only there because he’d heard there would be sausages involved.

As they ascended the rocky paths of Ta’ Pinu, Twanny regaled them with stories of hunting exploits laden with fabled one-shot successes and rabbits the size of small horses. Rita, unfazed by the tall tales, quietly polished her spectacles and peered into the distance, while Claudio unwrapped a *pastizz* and began a heated debate over whether peas belonged in such a sacred pastry.

An Unexpected Turn in Mdina

Upon reaching Mdina, the crew split up, leaving Carmelo wandering the Silent City, clueless yet determined. His attention was caught by a peculiar rustling in the bushes near the bastions. With the agility of a *qattus* eyeing a fishmonger’s stall, he readied himself. “Aha!” he exclaimed, only to discover that his prey was none other than the Mayor’s prize-winning cat, who shared a fondness for rabbits and, apparently, historical sites.

Plot Twist: The Great Rabbit Caper of St. Paul’s Cathedral

Just as Carmelo readied his apology to the feline dignitary, chaos erupted. Over in the shadows of the majestic St. Paul’s Cathedral, Rita whooped triumphantly, her voice echoing through the city. Running towards the commotion, Carmelo found Rita, not with a rabbit, but a rooster that had escaped from a nearby *ġostra* contest, its feathers now goofily tufted from its dash for freedom. “Close enough!” she chuckled.

Blockquote: Social Media Frenzy

“Uwejja, check out what Nanna Rita caught in Mdina — it’s flying without wings! #GostraEscapee #OnlyInMalta” — Claudio, attempting his first viral post

The Hunt Concludes in Valletta

The escapade wound down with the group reconvening at Republic Street in Valletta, where the mix-up was shared among belly laughs and bites of *ħobż biż-żejt*. Claudio’s misadventure had spawned countless memes, making him an overnight sensation among the island’s youth.

As the sun set over the capital’s honey-colored bastions, Carmelo, now endearingly dubbed ‘il-Kaċċatur tat-Tiġieġ’ (the Chicken Hunter), announced, “Mela, friends, maybe hunting isn’t really my sport after all. Next Sunday, we’re going fishing. What’s the worst that could happen?”

The group exchanged mischievous glances as the city’s historic cannons fired off, signaling the end of a day that would be recounted for generations — much like the Maltese love for a good yarn and an even better laugh.

Interactive Reader Poll

  • Should Carmelo stick to hunting or try his luck at fishing?
  • What should be the name of Claudio’s upcoming blog on accidental viral fame in Malta?
  • Vote for your favorite *pastizz* filling: peas or ricotta?
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