Last Toast on the Coast: A Malta Bachelorette Party Story

Earlier this month, I joined a group of girlfriends in Malta for a bachelorette party. The theme? Last Toast on the Coast - so we needed sun, sea, and serious downtime. I had never been to Malta and frankly had no expectations. Given its location, I assumed most of the perks of the Mediterranean coasts: good food, good people, sunshine.

The day before landing we were informed our boat tour needed to be canceled as the weather was taking a turn for the worst and a storm was heading our way. Absolute panic in the group chat. Our entire plan was sea, sun and chill. With no sun and no sea, what were the girls to do?

I woke up at 3 something, the rest is a blur until I landed early morning in Malta. Sun, glorious sun. It blinded, it burned, but we were so happy to see it.

While our grand boat tour was scrapped, we improvised with a smaller local boat to get to our Airbnb - which, by the way, was incredible.

We went out that night to a cute jazz bar, walked around and enjoyed some decent food. On that front, if I’m being honest, the food was a letdown. A mishmash of Italian, Greek, and Turkish influences, but nothing really stood out. One dish in particular, a supposedly pistachio-based pasta - became a trip-long inside joke for how entirely flavorless it was. As a pistachio lover, I was personally offended. So much so that the lack of pistachio and my passion for it in all things became a recurring joke the whole trip and beyond, culminating in a rebrand of the group name as 'The Pistachio Team'.

The next day we brunched on the terrace of our accommodation, walked around some more and spent the afternoon in a spa (great spot, extremely quiet, it felt privatised). Between saunas and dips in the pool we relaxed, breathed and talked about life. Later that day we got some drinks in various bars, tipsily bought snacks and attempted (eventually successfully) five times to order pizza. We concluded the night in a sleepover-style party, enjoying all the regressive perks of chilling with friends in your PJs, laughing hysterically at jokes, good or bad.

I woke up at 3am again, sneaking out way before dawn for my return plane. I said goodbye to The Pistachio Team in a haze and landed in London in the morning. I booked my Uber before I had scanned my passport, used the last of my energy to race to it and within 20 minutes I was on my way home. I ordered pho (the best hangover medicine) in the car and arrived 10 minutes before my food. I ate and then I passed out for a 5-hour nap. Woke up, ate again and slept another 12 hours.

All in all, it was a joyful, chaotic, sun-soaked weekend with an incredible group of women. A perfect way to mark a new chapter for our friend - and to create memories none of us will forget (no matter how sleep-deprived we were). Malta surprised me, and I’d go back in a heartbeat - hopefully next time with pistachios that taste like pistachios.

The supposed storm never showed. It was just a bit windy.

Our airbnb street. So pretty.

Late night door.

Brunch on the terrace, some of the plates in the sun.

The spa in a luxury hotel. See here.