If you think the pace in Malta is slow and easy, wait till you get to Gozo. Getting off the ferry which took just 25 minutes to cross from Cirkewwa on Malta to Mgarr on Gozo, I was all set to enjoy my day sojourn to this even tinier island, all of nine square miles.

The bustle at the port as tourists disembark is misleading. For as soon as all the coaches and cars and jeeps depart for their respective destinations and I start on my own journey, I realize the road ahead is long, narrow and rather lonely. And rather brown. The picture postcard first view of Gozo with the neo-Gothic Church of Our Lady of Lourdes high on the hill overlooking the port and the Fort Chambray to its left falls behind as you trundle along the dusty road in a fairly ancient bus, with a suitably ancient driver who knows his history sufficiently well to rattle on, speaking as if on auto pilot.

Taking a cue from that I turned on the tiny dictaphone I always carry but rarely use and this is how my education on Gozo (how delightful and friendly it sounds) goes.

Some years ago it was proposed to connect the islands of Malta and Gozo by a bridge and Japanese engineers were called in to make a feasibility report. The project was considered technically sound but the expense involved was mammoth, so the plan was shelved. And many people in Malta and many more in Gozo breathed a sigh of relief.

It was feared that should the island of Gozo become too accessible, there would be a danger of the island losing the old world charm which it had retained so far, and which Malta too once possessed but began to lose during the mid 20th century.

Malta’s smaller sister island is different in that it is more fertile and more picturesque but what makes Gozo so markedly different from Malta are the Gozitans, the local inhabitants.

These frugal and tough people seem most resistant to any adversity; their character is steel-like, tempered by privations and constant danger and, as a result of the frequent historical ordeals, they and their descendents have emerged strong and resilient. Gozo has had more than its share of misfortunes. Imagine a tiny 9 square mile island in the middle of the sea, largely undefended facing innumerable devastating pirate attacks and on one occasion the entire population being carried into slavery!

It is said even if a Gozitan goes out into the world to make his fortune, he returns home to Gozo to build a grand house for himself as evidence of his success. He loves his homeland with a quiet pride and will never trade places. It’s rural and romantic. And some of Malta’s best brains come from Gozo!

Hmm… by the time I pick up all that information, we have finished seeing the ruins of the Ggantija, the prehistoric temples uncovered in 1826, probably the finest of all ancient temples on the island. These 5,000 year old remains are the earth’s oldest free-standing structures, pre-dating even the Pyramids. At the entrance to the site I spend some time buying organic honey and marmalade, specialties of the island. I sit conversing with the seller, who has all the time in the world, while his friend sitting alongside plays his accordion.

After the temple visit we are on our way to one of the many little bays, amidst impressive cliffs and natural pools of salt water. Xlendi Bay is where we eat lunch and take short dips in the salty sea water. Though this one is touristy there are many genuine fjords etched out over centuries like Mgarr ix-Xini and Ta’ Cenc Cliffs, howevet it is the splendid inlet at Dwerja Bay thta takes my breath away. Crystal clear waters with the imposing Blue Window on the edge. I wonder whether Messrs Yash Chopra or Karan Johar have not already discovered it. It would look beautiful in a movie frame and specially with Priyanka Chopra spinning magic with one of her many moves.

The Blue Window, also known as The Azure Window, is eroded limestone and has behind it a saltwater lake, known as the Inland Sea, which can be reached through a tunnel. I hear if you manage to catch a sunset from this point, it will be a highlight of your trip. I can’t, I have a ferry to catch before sunset.

Tea time sees us at Victoria, the capital of Gozo. It is the only town on this island and though it was named Victoria in 1897 on the occasion of the Diamond Jubilee of Queen Victoria, the Gozitans call it Rabat.

It is in the centre of the island and has been the capital of Gozo probably from Roman times, when defensive walls were built around the town which the Arabs continued to reinforce after conquering it in 870 AD.

Due to the many sieges and onslaughts nothing structurally very old has survived, but in the haphazard, twisting lanes and alley-ways, the traditional balconies and grand palaces reveal the local architecture. Independence Square (also known as It-Tokk, which means the meeting place), at the base of the Citadel is the action spot where amidst a charming market atmosphere locals and tourists sit in open air cafes, enjoy a pizza or a pasta.

The Citadel, the original nucleus of Victoria, is built on one of the many flat-topped hills. Its origins can be traced to the late Middle Ages. At one period of time the entire population of the island would take refuge within these walls from sunset to sunrise. From this point one can get the most panoramic view of the entire island.

An interesting aspect of Gozo, one that also impressed Queen Victoria, is the lace making cottage industry of Sannat. This is the home of the famous white and cream coloured laces used to make cushions covers by the expert and speedy hands of the women of the village, a tradition passed over centuries from generation to generation.

Gozo has a high quality of crafts production. A visit to Ta’ Dbiegi crafts village will show you their talent for making interesting items with blown glass.

But the best discovery for me was Gbejniet, Gozo’s sheep’s milk cheese. Small, peppery rounds of mouth watering, wholesome cheese that give life a whole new dimension. It is sold in shops by weight, but since it is also available in jars, I buy one tiny one to bring back home.

Occasionally when I catch the incredulous look on my dog’s face when she stumbles upon me in front of my open fridge door, surreptitiously nibbling at my precious Gozo Gbejniet, I can’t help but burst out laughing, promising myself to ‘Go Gozo’ once again, if for nothing but its awesome, rustic, rural cheese!