Munxar, Malta. If you google it, you’ll be directed to the page of the local council of Munxar in Gozo, which in case you’re wondering, supervises the area of Xlendi, its ugly concrete block hotels and its whereabouts.
My Munxar, the Munxar that does not come up in the Google search, is the stretch of virgin land between Marsascala and Marsaxlokk. To get to it, you have to go to St Thomas Bay, then past another small bay fringed by the ghetto of uncharming boathouses and then you’re there: at the very edge of Munxar. It’s a pristine piece of land which, unless you’re familiar with the south of Malta, you wouldn’t know about it.
I have a few treasured memories there, mostly of walking the dogs, unleashed, and watching them as they happily sniff the car-free track. It’s also the place I went to when I bought my first SLR camera, which had drained me of all my savings. Penniless, I caught the bus and went to Munxar taking pictures of the wild poppies and the raging sea, and suddenly feeling very rich.
Munxar is beautiful on sunny spring days, but is equally breathtaking on windy, wintry days, when the angry sea slams and thumps against the white cliffs. It is spectacular at night-time: there is absolutely no hint of light pollution and is a perfect spot for star-gazing or for watching lightening to the amplified sound of thunder and then running for it, carefree, laughing, when it starts raining heavily.
Past Munxar, and if you’re in the mood for a good hour’s walk, you’ll end up in Xrobb l-Għaġin, then Delimara, then Tas-Silġ, which is a stone’s throw away from Marsaxlokk. Most of us who go there love it for the green stretch of space that it is. We fill our lungs with air which tastes of sea salt, we walk to the sound of the crunching grass under our feet and we look beyond the unreachable (except by boat) turquoise sea, we feel the shackles of island-confinement fall off and, for a while, we’re free.
But not everyone sees this. Sometimes, every couple of decades or so, someone goes along, breathes in the salty air, shoots a glance all around and says: “Wow!” Followed by: “This place could really do with a swimming pool! And a hairdressing salon so, after they swim in chlorine, tourists can blow dry their hair flat like ours! And a tiger nail salon! And a tombola hall! And a recording studio for children of tourists who want to have a CD at the age of three! And a wine bar with 789 choices of wine, even if we then only stock 10! And a restaurant, where we’ll serve Pizza tan-Nanna!
If it’s a beautiful January day today, please go for a walk in Munxar and enjoy it while it lasts
“And a fully equipped conference centre for multi-purpose events, where people dress up as knights and have trumpets hooting while foreigners walk the red carpet under flashing swords! And a beach pontoon and a bar so we can have loud music because it’s too quiet here! And administration offices overlooking the sea, but we’ll have blinds all over or we won’t be able to see the computer screens with the glare! Woohoo!”
With their pupil the shape of dollar signs, such inspired people recently submitted a project application to Mepa to cover all the 2,000 square metres of the land of Munxar and called it agritourism. Sigh. Was your idea of agritourism a little cottage, hidden under ivy leaves and bougainvillea, where you can wake up and the owner will make you a breakfast of torta ta’ l-irkotta with tomatoes dried on her very sunny roof? Strangely, so was mine.
And I also imagined the said cottage owner gently encouraging the agritourist to go for an early swim at St Thomas Bay “M’hawnx aħjar mill-ilma baħar”; and then in the evening she’d recommend some lovely fish restaurant in Marsaxlokk and when they’re back home, she’ll leave a bottle of house wine on the table as a night cap.
But that all depends on the ‘perception’ of agritourism; you can also think of it as Las-Vegas tourism, it seems. The truth is Malta is so tiny that boutique accommodation in the many vacant village core townhouses would be the perfect sort of agritourism. From there they can move about from one spot of (remaining) countryside to the next – and all villages are equipped with a fitness centre, a beauty salon or tombola, if the tourists really want them.
Now we have to wait and see the outcome of Mepa’s decision on this project. We could be told, yet again, that this is “the embellishment of the south” and that it will give “the people of the south vast job opportunities”, like we’re unable to get in a car and drive elsewhere to work. Or it could all be the usual spiel to distract people off the bulldozers building that non-American institute, and we will then be told that there has been a lot of listening and ta-da! Munxar won’t be built up, and we will all sigh in relief until we turn round and choke at the sight of the ruined ugliness that was once Żonqor Point.
Whatever will happen next, there’s one thing I’d like to invite you to do. If it’s a beautiful January day today, please go for a walk in Munxar and enjoy it while it lasts.
krischetcuti@gmail.com
Twitter: @KrisChetcuti