Bus driver and cabbie don't take customers for a ride

Bus and horse-drawn cab drivers are not necessarily synonymous with impeccable manners and do not enjoy the greatest reputation in the public eye. But a couple are going against the grain, raising standards and even flying the flag for their counterparts.

Raymond Cassar and Alfred Chircop, bus and karrozzin drivers respectively, have won awards for excellence in the service, hospitality, or product sectors by the Malta Tourism Authority.

Bus drivers may bring to mind unruly behaviour, impatience with foreigners and poor road etiquette while those of horse-drawn cabs can be witnessed harassing tourists to be taken for a ride - in more ways than one.

But Mr Cassar and Mr Chircop are some of the exceptions to the rule. They were among 15 individuals, who won the awards, receiving a certificate and €800.

About 7,500 tourist nominations were received last year in recognition of outstanding service from almost 850 persons, highlighting the importance of human resources in tourism. Efficiency and professional service as well as genuine hospitality with a smile are vital in the industry.

But honesty seems to be the winning card for both Mr Cassar and Mr Chircop, who assume they were awarded because they do not take their customers for a ride.

Mr Cassar's first comment at the bus terminus at Valletta City Gate is a complaint about the state of the pavements. "Look at that hole! You could sprain your ankle," he observes, pointing out the potholes, which are not only a hazard but also an eyesore.

Constantly seeking improvement, his entire conversation is riddled with criticism: from cars parked haphazardly, blocking the road and preventing him from offering his service; to the wrong date printed on a leaflet mapping bus routes; to the one single uniform they have had to wear all year; and the lack of promised toilets and showers at the bus terminus.

The owner of two buses, Mr Cassar insists on the importance of being smart and complains about those who "have big pays, lots of responsibility, but do nothing".

In his view, he won the award because "I am careful and take an interest".

Mr Cassar refuses to point fingers at his colleagues and blames any bad behaviour on stress, traffic, long hours and no relief, explaining that they work 16 hours, day and night.

Drivers are lacking, which means they cannot afford to take a day off, or even be sick, he says, describing the situation as a "total loss".

On a more positive note, Mr Cassar boasts he goes that extra mile, helping tourists with their luggage - others would simply refuse to load it.

The 39-year-old used to drive around in his father's bus from the age of five and the job runs in his blood. He is constantly investing in his vehicles and has just installed new seats.

Foreigners go mad over the old Maltese buses, he says, pointing to one that almost runs the photographer over as it reverses blindly. He is not against the public transport reform as long as his vehicles are showcased in a museum.

At least, they would still be enjoyed, he maintains.

Not all of them belch fumes, he insists, adding that others need to sort out their engines too.

Then there is Mr Chircop, who is in the business of horse-drawn cabs because he loves the animals. And Orietta Berti, his horse, is equally loyal, waiting patiently outside his spacious warehouse opposite Fort St Elmo, in Valletta, which houses her stables.

Proudly hanging at the entrance are his two certificates - he won the awards twice. And the reason, he believes, is because he gets on well with the tourists and does not rob them.

Mr Chircop may agree to a 30-minute trip round Valletta but he does not exactly consult his watch. "I stop to explain along the way and I wait while they get down, look around and photograph the sites. I like to see them satisfied."

His patience is often rewarded and he ends up getting paid more.

Mr Chircop too refuses to be drawn into criticising his colleagues. All he can say is that he has never tugged at anyone's sleeve to persuade them to experience a ride on his karrozzin.

He shrugs off the admitted dangers of driving a cab on Malta's roads, risking getting hit from every angle, and ignores his wife when she worries that he is going out in the sun, or the wind.

"I have too many grandchildren at home," he says, happy to escape.

His is just a part-time job, which the 75-year-old does in his own time. And two weeks can easily go by without a single sale: "Tourists prefer to walk or have no money".