The best thing about the British Hotel, the oldest in Valletta, is its location half way up the cliff that is the southern edge of the city. Our funky room, the only one located on the top floor of the hotel, wasn’t very large or comfortable. In addition, when leaving the room in the morning, we had to step gingerly around the piles of soiled sheets and towels the maids were sorting in front of our door. However, at the cocktail hour, we would take our plastic cups of scotch onto the large, adjacent terrace and enjoy a sunset view over the Grand Harbor that was second to none. We treated the terrace as our own private domain as no other guests ever seemed to come up there.