After over a week in Malta, I felt that a trip to the capital city, Valletta, about which I had heard so many positive things, was long overdue. So on a Sunday evening, I went with a couple of friends to the Barrakka Gardens and, after contemplating the breathtaking view of Grand Harbour scattered with lights, we walked the quiet streets for about a half-hour.

As we walked, I suddenly realized how blue the sky was and I tried to come up with a term to describe it. It was too dark to be sky blue, and to say navy blue would in no way have done justice to the richness of the colour. It was a royal blue, but of a kind that could never be replicated.

And then it hit me – I had never seen a sky that colour before. Here in the Mediterranean, I’m sure it is something that can be seen on any clear night a little after sunset. But in North America, the sky is never such a colour. I don’t know the technicalities of it, but technicalities don’t matter. The beauty of it did.

The next day, on my way back from work, the warmth of the sun enveloped me and made me feel extremely peaceful. The heat somehow brought my thoughts back to the blue sky of the previous night, and I thought of how many things here must be taken for granted – things that are not found elsewhere and keep on attracting more and more tourists year after year.

Since I am planning to spend two months here, I actually have to get accustomed to most of those things and cannot simply enjoy them as the exotic elements of a summer vacation. And I have to say I’m rather proud of myself for growing used to a lot of things – though many are still hard to integrate into my daily routine. First and foremost are the cars. Before coming here, I knew that cars drive on the left, but it doesn’t seem to have registered in my mind and I am more confused than ever. (It actually took me a while to write that sentence; I had to look out the window to make sure people do drive on the left.) This even extends to the pavements, as I always stand on the right when I come across people walking in the opposite direction. And then we both end up not knowing which way to go.

Maybe part of the problem when I walk is that the scenery is so distracting. Every corner I turn reveals something new. It might just be a small side street, or a larger street that opens up on a majestic valley. I usually slow down when I see such things, and sometimes even stop to make sure the scene is properly imprinted on my mind. This also happens quite frequently with the various bays that are host to so many boats and sunbathers. Being surrounded by water is not something I am accustomed to, and neither are the small, charming streets – believe me, in New York City they are anything but that.

Unfortunately, I bet these things are taken for granted by most people who have lived in Malta all their lives. But that is the beauty of coming to a new country and being a tourist: you have a different outlook on things, one that makes you want to keep walking just so you have the chance to stop again.

The author is a Canadian journalism student who is interning with The Malta Independent on Sunday for the duration of the summer. In the autumn, she will be entering her fourth and final year at Baruch College, in New York City, where she is the sports editor of the student newspaper. This weekly column will seek to present Malta as seen by tourists and to highlight the treasures of the country that are too often taken for granted