Pack in tackiness, for Pete’s sake

I was stopped by a German couple the other day near Merchants Street, Valletta. They were cruise liner day trippers and wanted the quick tourist-guide fix – the Malta must-see sites, if you like. I told them to stay put, lose themselves in the streets of our capital city, pop into St John’s Co-Cathedral, and if they could stretch it any further, to check out Mdina or St Julian’s.

The mayor is turning Spinola Bay into the chav capital of bay areas and then justifying his position by telling us he has saved 120 parking spaces- Michela Spiteri

Much as I love many other areas of Malta, when it comes to locations I reckon these in particular are in a class of their own and hold a particular charm and appeal, especially among foreigners who are invariably and infallibly fascinated and somehow much more appreciative than us locals.

The bay area manages to evoke class while remaining essentially a very low key, quaint fishing town.

It has that ‘so close and yet so far’ thing going on. You’re right there in the thick of it and are somehow simultaneously remov­ed, always guaranteed a peaceful, easy night out. And yes, it is definitely one of our dwindling trophy locations – the closest we get to Capri or Portofino.

So turning it into a Jerry Springer show, replete with the whiff of bad popcorn and chip oil, stale lager, sufarelli and other people’s saliva, not to mention the miscreant mega football screen booming a running football commentary at peak dining time, is really not conducive to the five-star image and fine dining experience that neighbouring establishments have striven to cultivate over the years. Not without their fair share of sweat, sacrifice and heavy investment.

If I were to bump into that German couple today, I don’t think I’d send them to St Julian’s in a hurry. Or let’s just say that if I packed them off to Buġibba, they wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

And yes, there is an enormous difference between the two, which I’m pretty sure the mayor, Peter Bonello, is well aware of, despite his mock inverted snobbery and feigned protestations to the contrary. Otherwise he might well be living in Buġibba and coming up with mega deals and mega screens over there.

I absolutely fail to understand how this country works, or more to the point – how the St Julian’s Council works. Or perhaps I understand it very well, which is even more worrying.

But really, where does the mayor get off turning Spinola Bay into the chav capital of bay areas and then justifying his position by telling us he has saved 120 parking spaces in the process. It would be hilarious if it wasn’t so tragic and pathetic.

Truth of the matter, of course, is that whereas any permanent catering establishment needs a permit for just about anything, whether it’s signage, air-conditioning units, fume and chimney extractors, tables, chairs or music, the same rigorous bureaucratic rules and regulations apparently do not apply to temporary Johnny-come-lately makeshift structures which are removable after 30 days.

And while some people may feel that neighbouring restaurateurs in the area are getting their just dessert, because they are a part of the problem and not the solution, I am in vehement disagreement.

I’m not usually one for laying it on thick but I can safely say that these establishment owners have unanimously striven to up the ante on their culinary offerings and up-market ambiance. And they really don’t deserve to be treated this way.

Rome may not have been built in one day, but all it takes is one to destroy it. Never mind 25. And that is precisely what is going on here.

Everyone knows how tough the catering business is, even when everything is hunky dory. But when you’re in the throes of one of the world’s worst recessions and have been looking forward to the spring and summer months, this sort of madness beggars belief.

Consider the sort of investment that goes into keeping a business afloat. Not just your stock, your staff and manpower, but the nitty-gritty and grief that comes with the territory. It’s truly like Waiting for Godot – an exercise in holding your breath, waiting for licences and the absurd application of one permit after another destined to make you all but give up hope and shop.

It’s quite extraordinary really. We have a situation where proprietors face ongoing spanners in their works. While they are committed not only to their brand but to the area as a whole, and have consistently adhered to top-notch standards and requirements, they have had to contend with cheap shabby entertainment dished out by the local council ad nauseam.

If it’s not the Lejlet Lapsi diverting traffic and making a nuisance of itself, it’s some other tacky event that pollutes and bogs up the area and cheapens the general atmosphere.

These establishments have successfully cultivated an image and epitomise everything Brand Malta should be.

Today, they are having to deal with cancellations and walk-outs by patrons who justifiably feel cheated and short-changed, because Massive Promotions and its mega screen have been allowed to ride roughshod over this national legacy, because the St Julian’s mayor seemed to think it was kosher.

Interestingly enough, the same mass opposition from fishermen, hoteliers, restaurants et al is never demonstrated when it comes to the St Julian’s feast, because everyone agrees this is a well-organised, well-funded event which complements rather than compromises the atmosphere and offers quality entertainment across the board.

The government seemed to think it was only 25 days of a year and would have been content to let this forge ahead unresisted, were it not for the clamouring for its removal.

I rather suspect and fear that the dominos will continue to fall unless the authorities recognise that certain areas of such national and commercial importance have to be untouchable and can’t be subject to the unfettered discretion and whims of one person.

michelaspiteri@gmail.com