Today we'll be travelling to Gozo, which has got me feeling very curious. Ever since I first heard about this tiny island from Issy's family and relatives many years ago, I've had visions of people with two heads, and a place that's so quiet that someone sneezing would make front page news. My relatives have made the Gozitans, as I'm now told they are called, sound like a very poor man's Tasmanians. I hope that no one from Gozo reads this. I don't think they will. From what Issy's family and relatives have told me, people from Gozo can't read. Louis and Lily again pick us up, and we drive to the ferry terminal at the northern tip of Malta and then onto the ferry for the twenty minute crossing. Our first stop is the church
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