Sitting in his living room, Salvino Sullivan extends an arm in front of him and, with a tight, trembling fist, passionately closes his eyes and sings a few verses from Verdi's La Traviata.

"Opera is just spectacular... It is history and art. It's a pity that, nowadays, young people have no clue about opera," says Mr Sullivan, who celebrates his 100th birthday today.

His passion for the opera soon morphs into frustration and anger at the fact that Valletta's Royal Opera House has been left derelict for decades. This, he believes, resulted in a younger generation that is ignorant of opera and Malta's various governments across the years are to blame.

An avid reader of The Times, Mr Sullivan joins the ongoing debate about the site's future and remarks, "It is the government's duty to educate the people and expose them to opera... And I insist the opera house ruins should be rebuilt into the Royal Opera House and nothing else".

Last December, the debate was rekindled when the government announced the site would house a new Parliament building designed by renowned architect Renzo Piano. The building is also intended to house a cultural centre with a separate entrance.

"The opera house is history. It should be rebuilt into the Royal Opera House," he insists, as he thinks back to his younger days when he became infatuated with the music genre.

As a child, Mr Sullivan's parents would take him to the theatre or the opera. "I remember they would buy me a box of chocolates so I would be quiet while they watched the show," he giggles to himself.

When he grew into a young man, and started appreciating the music, he would go to the opera house alone to listen to a range of operas.

"At the time I could not afford much so I would go to the Wednesday matinee that was cheaper than the Saturday soiree," he recalls, singing excerpts from Verdi's Rigoletto and Aida.

The eldest of 16 children, Mr Sullivan attended St Aloysius College and decided to become a Jesuit priest. Three years into his preparation for priesthood he realised this was not the life he wanted.

"I could take the poverty and obedience vows... but chastity was not so easy," he jokes.

Soon after this decision, he fell in love with a young ballerina but circumstances forced them apart and he later learnt she had become a nun.

"After that I became a playboy. But, once I met my wife, she was the only woman for me," he says, fondly looking at a portrait of his Italian wife, Maria , who is 19 years younger than him.

As a young man, Mr Sullivan worked with his father's shipping business for some years and eventually enrolled as a volunteer in the British Army.

He was made captain of the intelligence corps and posted in Italy. When he was in Naples, the army requisitioned a villa in Torre del Greco that was inhabited by a family and their teenage daughter, Maria.

"I would smile at her from a distance... Then, one day, I met her in the villa's garden and told her I was being moved to Padua and asked her whether she wanted to join me. She said 'yes'."

The couple got married and had seven children. He left the army and worked with his family's shipping company in Malta.

By the time the couple settled in Malta the opera house had been bombed and reduced to ruins.

"My days on this earth are numbered but I do hope, for posterity, that the opera house is rebuilt," Mr Sullivan says.

As he looks back at the century that has been his lifetime, he notes that it has been an adventurous bunch of years. "Life has taught me that the most important thing is to be good to others," he says adding that, at 100, he still kneels down by his bed and prays every night.