Paceville is the largest collection of bars, discos, pubs and dance clubs in the nation. Bugibba is in second place, but as it is less central it is more a resort for German families and Swedish volleyball teams. Most Maltese from all over the island go out to Paceville when they're looking for a good time. Burger King is central and makes a good landmark. It is down the road from KFC in one direction and Subway in the other. (No Paceville is not Americanized but I didn't want you to be surprised if you thought you were going to a completely "foreign" country.)

Enjoying a night out in Paceville is similar to succeeding at any activity on Malta: it depends on who you know. Last night I went out alone so I could be an objective viewer. It's still cold here, and so many large shapely coats with fur trim were hiding the miniskirts I expected. Paceville is a fashion parade, and a trained eye can tell what part of the island its participants come from by the way they dress. There is a sharp distinction between classes in Malta and it shows clearly in Paceville by what clothes they've bought; taste is both a matter of upbringing and proper funding. Last night, Paceville reeked of vomit. I had to check twice to make sure it wasn't me. Both sexes will at times spend an hour getting sexy, and then come out and get trashed and sick in less than that. Girls in dangerously high heels stumble into walls and off curbs and guys with hair sculpted out of concrete look dazed as they nap on the sidewalk.

The legal drinking age is 16, but younger kids have no problem buying alcohol. In fact, "Sunday Afternoon" parties are aimed at this crowd who, not yet able to drive, have to arrive and leave early to make use of the bus. Maltese are both friendly and group oriented at once, so you may have trouble getting introduced, but after they know you their generosity is refreshing. Also refreshing, at least for the guys, is the amount of flesh paraded before our feasting eyes. Malta has perfected the wonder bra and everywhere you look are the most stunningly displayed pair of breasts. Look harder and you will see less spendid breasts, and not at all splendid pudgy tummies, likewise mounted and strapped like trophies.

This time of year Paceville is complimented by lost European families, pre-teen English students, and a bunch of Americans who parked their big boat in the harbour. All the above are very friendly but as they are short term residents, there is a tendency to frolic and play with little regard for others. I've been witness to some graphically violent fights in Paceville, and there are some bastards who will just start a fight without cause. If you're going to be a man, count how many friends the other guy has in the vicinity.

Bars close around 4am. Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays are the big nights out. The music changes every 20 feet because on both your right and left side will pass flashing neon signs beckoning you to try their 50 cent tequila or take advantage of the buy two Heinekens get one free special. Havanna is a great double decker for hip hop and good dance music, but the bouncers are racist against blacks and arabs. Fuego is crowded as hell, (if you're lucky enough to get in you'll lose the vomit smell for the stench of body odors and sweat), but plays decent Salsa and offers lessons three days a week. Sabor de Mexico also has good salsa and the best Mexican on the island for late night snacks. Misfits is the hang out for a more international crowd, with techno/trans, not much space for dancing, but comfy couches and outdoor tables.

Near Paceville is the movie theatre, the bowling alley (ever try drunk bowling? There's a bar full bar inside), and Bay Street, which is an arty new mall. Tonight, Easter Sunday, there was a party there for a bunch of teenage Europeans. A Maltes family attended, with 4 sisters age 6 to about 14, dressed up in boots and skirts and make up. They danced like prostitutes in front of their mother. Fun stuff.