I don’t remember the Acropolis, or very much else about my trip to Athens in 1997, apart from stifling heat and generally abrasive people, particularly the taxi drivers. I’d probably go as far as to say they were downright rude, were it not for the fact that it was Greek to me. Then again, you don’t really need to speak a language to know when people are being nice, and more importantly, when they aren’t.
I never went back, and, in much the same vein, have no wish to return to Seville – a glorious city which captured my interest on my first visit there 20 years ago. Three years back, I returned, curious to revisit and reacquaint myself with the place, and now wish I hadn’t. Some things are best left in the past.
I will henceforth be forced to remember the shabby way I was treated on that last trip – turned away from restaurants by gormless waiters, abandoned semi-naked in changing rooms for what seemed like an interminable time, waiting in vain for shop assistants to hand me dresses and suits which never materialised, as I held back tears of indignation. It felt like I was being punished for not speaking the language and I vowed there wouldn’t be a next time. It therefore came as no surprise to me that Spain had been brought to its knees, and the Spanish, treading water.
Human beings are monstrously fickle – with a whole world to explore, crossing countries off your list is actually a relief.
Like wanting to buy a dress you don’t really need and hoping they don’t have it in your size or, at any rate, that it won’t look good on.
This article has been percolating in my mind for a while. I’ve lived in Malta my whole life, and although I wake up every day and discover something else I don’t like, I love Malta warts and all.
Still, I’m not sure I’d put up with it – or whether I’d even like it – were I not born here. Almost like that friend you’ve known forever, whom you like unthinkingly and automatically. Although chances are that had you met later on as adults, you wouldn’t have.
Countries are a lot like people. With some it’s love at first sight, others grow on you like a fungus. And some you write off and have no wish to see, ever again. So, to borrow a phrase from Alastair Campbell – the first step to getting the right answers is asking the right questions.
Which brings me to mine – would I write Malta off if I were a first-time visitor? Would I want to come back? In many ways, I feel like I’m writing myself into a cul-de-sac here. I’m actually writing this on my sofa and I can hear the awful rumbling sound of a jigger in the background which has rudely joined the neighbourhood and become part of our lives.
Surprise! There’s a block of flats coming up next door. We get the drill (literally) Monday through Saturday from 6.30am until I can no longer bear it and head out.
And when the rumbling subsides, like Chinese torture, I’m always waiting for it to start again. What a great way to live.
I live somewhere between Sliema and St Julian’s, smack in the tourist capital of Malta. You’d think that the government would ‘cheat’ and at least ensure that the places where tourists will definitely gravitate look fantastic – even if the rest doesn’t.
With us, it’s the other way round. Sliema and St Julian’s are vying for pole position in the treacherous and appalling roads and pavements department.
If local councils still haven’t managed to clean up our act (they’re obviously too busy cleaning up theirs), then perhaps the Prime Minister should rethink the councils altogether. Or at least, rethink their set-up and constitution.
Something is clearly not working. Are the councillors working for individual MPs or for the community? Are these MPs influencing the contract process and trying to get their own people in? Are political affiliations getting in the way of pavements?
We deserve decent pavements and roads, an abundance of dustbins, neighbourhood noise regulation, proper planning and road work and construction enforcement rules. Why should traffic constantly be forced to reroute on account of poorly planned road works?
Why should I be woken up at 6.30am on a Saturday morning wanting to scream profanities?
It’s pointless having a rich cultural tapestry, crystal clear waters and super financial incentives if we skimp on cosmetics
If the government wants to sell citizenship for cash, so be it, provided the cash translates into better and improved quality of life, to social and economic wellness and prosperity. Malta is still too Third World in parts – power outages, water shortages, poor infrastructure, street litter...
Forget brand Malta – how about a brand new Malta?
The country is still too dirty, too noisy, too disorderly and too inefficient. Traffic is wrist-slashingly depressing; construction doesn’t follow any sort of rhyme or reason – although I’m sure it makes perfect sense to the developers.
The few remaining unspoiled beaches are heading towards the same sort of fate as they risk being hijacked and commercialised.
Why should I go for a swim and have to put up with pounding club music because of the beach concession next door?
Before we go about branding Malta and getting our image out there, we first need to get our image right, especially if we want people to be brand loyal and come back.
It’s pointless having a rich cultural tapestry, crystal clear waters and super financial incentives if we skimp on cosmetics.
We’re in dire need of an infrastructural facelift. We’re a small country with lots of potential and an English-speaking edge over the rest of the Mediterranean. Deserving or not, we seem to have retained our reputation as a safe, warm and hospitable nation, although the United Nations and many detained immigrants might not agree. But that is another story, for another time.
michelaspiteri@gmail.com