The EU recently rapped Malta on its knuckles for not meeting the deadline to submit noise maps which identify the noisiest areas. Kristina Chetcuti tours the island equipped with a noise meter and is surprised at the din islanders are subjected to daily.
When was the last time you could honestly say you sat down and read a book without some blaring, rioting noise ruining your concentration – a truck reversing, a car alarm bleeping, or a neighbour re-selecting ringtones?
Perhaps only our grandparents can answer that. They were born in a world with some birds tweeting and the occasional vehicle passing by, not faster than 20mph. Not so now. The sound track to modern life is getting louder and more persistent.
The European Commission recently said it was preparing to take legal action against Malta for failing to comply with the EU’s Noise Directive. Malta is over two years past the submission date – the idea was that by now, action plans would have been drawn up to try and manage the worst affected areas.
So while the Malta Environment and Planning Authority is still compiling noise data about major roads, airports and agglomerations, let’s put noise in a context: 35 decibels (dB) is the sound of a whisper. A washing machine records a noise level of 65dB and a hair dryer 80dB.
According to the World Health Organisation guidelines, noise above 42dB at night time is considered to cause sleep disturbance. Chronic night-time exposure of over 50 decibels can cause cardiovascular problems. According to the EU Noise Directive issued in 2006, employees exposed to sound levels at or above 85db must be provided with hearing protection.
How noisy is our daily life in real fact? To find out I spent a weekend armed with a noise meter, constantly checking the levels of our exposure to daily background noise. I thought I would have to stand next to bulldozers and loud people on their mobile phones to find real problem noise but it turns out it is absolutely everywhere.
On Saturday morning I left home to the noise of a neighbour’s carpenter (115dB). A short walk to Paola Square revealed constant traffic noise in the 85-90dB region, except when a car with black windows and fire tattoos on its sides drove past: its stereo blaster hit 102dB.
The background hum of the old diesel bus which I caught to Valletta averaged 94 dB, which is relatively high when compared with the 75dB marked during an earlier trip inside my car.
At the Valletta Terminus levels were in the decent high 70s decibels but not for long. When it was time for the buses to leave the terminus – and usually several left or rattled away at the same time – the noise level shot up to 114dB.
Even in Republic Street the noise meter never dropped to anything that could be construed as unobtrusive and on average played around the 90dB. The hustle and bustle of Café Cordina at 10 a.m. hit 80-85dB, soaring up to 90dB each time the cappuccino machine was used. Out on the street, the noise meter bleeped 130dB – workmen at the Main Guard Palace Square were using a jack hammer.
On to Sliema for some shopping. At 11 a.m., traffic noise in Bizazza Street and Tower Road was round about 80dB. At the Plaza Shopping Arcade the noise levels averaged between 70-75dB. In some high street clothes shops the music blared at 90dB. (Possibly some marketing research somewhere says if you feel obliged to walk around in tune to the music, you’re more likely to spend.)
Down to Giorgio’s for a coffee break but not a noise break. I sat on a table outside with traffic constantly passing by (80–95dB). The four sweet old ladies sitting on the table adjacent to me were comparing mobile phones and whooping with delight (82dB) whenever one of them got a call (73dB).
What of the noise levels on the island’s night entertainment scene? Out came a handbag which fitted the noise meter and I headed off to Paceville, the clichéd entertainment mecca. Admittedly, the club bouncers raised an eyebrow or two, wondering whether the instrument was a 1980s mobile phone or some lethal weapon.
In the Paceville circus the crowd noise levels were a brain-jangling 107 dB. Inside three different clubs, levels fluctuated between 115-125 dB. To put things in perspective a jet taking off is 140 dB; once levels hit 160dB it is cause for immediate physical damage. Down to an Irish pub in St Julians things become more ear-friendly. Music is at 75dB, and it is even possible to have a 60dB normal conversation.
In the two days of wandering the streets, I’ve seen the meter only occasionally drop below 50 decibels, the figure the Occupational Health and Safety Authority describes as “acceptable”.
Back at home, in a residential road with the windows and the door shut, I get the meter down to 45. Ahh. Peace and quiet. Until my daughter starts screaming (80dB), which is a cue for the dog to start her uninterrupted barking din (106dB). That’s louder than a fire engine.
Even at home, it seems, we’re not safe.
The not-so-silent killer
Recent research by WHO suggests stress from long-term exposure to traffic noise is the cause of three per cent of deaths from coronary heart disease.
In addition, it found that two per cent of Europeans suffer from severely disturbed sleep because of noise pollution and 15 per cent can suffer severe annoyance. Chronic exposure to loud traffic noise causes three per cent of tinnitus cases, in which people constantly hear a noise in their ears.
Research has shown noise can increase the levels of stress hormones, such as cortisol, adrenaline and noradrenalin in the body, even during sleep. The longer these hormones stay in circulation around the bloodstream, the more likely they are to cause life-threatening physiological problems. High stress levels can lead to heart failure, strokes, high blood pressure and immune problems.