Malta off the beaten trail: Fomm ir-Rih

Most people translate Fomm ir-Rih to ‘the mouth of the wind’. The translation is grammatically correct (fomm is mouth and rih is wind in Maltese) but I think it’s one of those names that cannot be translated literally as it loses its true meaning. So I would prefer to change the translation to ‘the breath of the wind’. You only need to visit this secluded bay to see why – a breeze always seems to be blowing here - even during the worst of the dog days of summer.

A GPS will take you everywhere these days, but don’t look for any road signs to Fomm ir-Rih because you won’t find any and it’s easy to miss the narrow road that will take you to this secluded bay. But once you do find it, it’s an easy, if in places winding, walk or drive to the beach head where you can stop to enjoy the view.

Or you can be a bit more adventurous and trek all the way down to the bay. Negotiating the path is not too bad in most places but once you’ve made it all the way down to the bottom, you do have to scramble and climb over some jagged rocks for the last few metres. Once that small ordeal is over, you can find a comfortable spot on the pebbly beach and enjoy the isolation – unless it’s summer, because during the peak months boats and yachts will anchor in the bay and spoil the serenity somewhat; but even in summer you can rest assured that there will be no crowds. During all the other months though, it’s pretty much you, yourself, your companions and the view.

There are two things that never change at Fomm ir-Rih: the bright turquoise of the sea on a sunny day and the clattering sound of the pebbles each time a wave rolls in. It’s strangely soothing – like a baby’s giant rattle. What you decide to do when you’re at the water’s edge is entirely up to you. I usually like to sit back and relax for a while, listening to the roll of the waves and the rattling of the pebbles.

Then I like to take a good look around me and take it all in. I am no geologist – my only brush with the subject came many years ago when I was still at school – but even I cannot help but notice the rock formations: the cliffs rising sharply and perpendicularly out of the sea, the syncline in the hills behind the bay, the contrast of soft, yellow globigerina limestone with the vegetation and the haphazard deposits of blue clay carved into the most unusual shapes by the wind and the constant movement of the sea.

The landscape at Fomm ir-Rih is a bit wild, in an underrated sort of way, and wonderfully unspoilt. The slopes surrounding the bay, and the headland above it, give life to many pretty wildflowers, some of which are so small and delicate that it is easy to miss them among the rocks and the more exuberant flowering species.

It is definitely off the beaten trail and the bay is not particularly easy to get to, which is what has preserved its isolation and its unique character. It is a place that is constantly battered by the waves that continually carve and change its landscape; a magnificent gift that Nature has bestowed on us and one that I hope we will preserve in its current pristine condition for future generations. They, and Fomm ir-Rih itself, deserve no less.

Location: Fomm ir-Rih, March 2017

All images ©Sincerely, Loree