When I lived in Canada, from 1975 to 1995, I used to visit Malta on vacation on a regular basis. The change of scene between a modern city like Toronto and a Mediterranean island like Malta always made my holiday restful and enjoyable. After having been away from Malta for several years, I could see the island with a fresh perspective.

One of my memorable visits to Malta occurred in the spring of 1988. I did a lot of sightseeing in the sunny, mild weather, and I enjoyed relaxing at outdoor cafes in Valletta and Sliema. 

Village alley in Gozo, 1994.

Valletta looked glorious in the spring sunshine, especially as I looked down the side streets while I walked down Republic Street. The views of Sliema and the blue sea in the distance filled me with anticipation of places still to be explored, and adventures still to be enjoyed.

I was awed by the panorama of the Grand Harbour from the Upper Barrakka Gardens, where I had not been since the mid-1970s. I was even amused by the seedy aspects of the city, such as the ‘hive’ of activity at the old bus terminus. It’s what makes Malta Maltese.

I was enchanted by the beautiful vistas of land and sea at Senglea, and I was bowled over by the awesome panorama of Valletta from Vittoriosa. Bathed in brilliant sunshine, Valletta seemed like an aerial city floating on the blue sea. 

At Vittoriosa, I discovered military fortifications that I had never seen before in my life. Prior to my visits as a tourist from Canada, I had no idea that Vittoriosa had so much to offer in terms of sightseeing.

During my stay in Malta, I had a car at my disposal and I roamed all over the island in search of old towns and villages that I had not visited for decades. Arriving from Canada, I was especially struck by the old Maltese vernacular architecture,  structurally plain and simple but aesthetically pleasing with its golden-hued façades, and its alignment of houses in winding and narrow village streets. Our predecessors had an innate sense of ‘town planning’, and an eye for aesthetics. 

Sometimes, I walked into a village street that was picture perfect. I stopped in my tracks as I came across some old dwelling bathed in such a striking play of light and shadow that the building “demanded” a photo to be taken of it before the light moved on.

Bathed in brilliant sunshine, Valletta seemed like an aerial city floating on the blue sea

Old Malta is very photogenic.

Whenever foreign tourists ask me to point out to them the highlights of Malta, I always tell them that they are Valletta, Mdina, the Three Cities and the panorama from the Upper Barrakka Gardens. I also urge them to visit beautiful Gozo.

My next visit to Malta from Canada was in the summer of 1991. On a sunny day in June, while driving in the Dragonara area, I suddenly found myself on the road overlooking the panorama of St George’s Bay. What a delightful surprise it was! I hadn’t been there in “ages”.

Rabat on a glorious spring afternoon, 1988.

As I drove down to the beach, I was charmed by the seclusion and picturesqueness of the bay. It was a weekday morning and the only people I could see at the beach were a few British tourists sunbathing in the noonday sun. An air of calm and relaxation pervaded the summer scene. 

As I drove on to my next destination, I made a mental note to return to that delightful spot. This was the way St George’s Bay used to be before it was spoiled with over-development and overbuilding and with an artificial sandy beach. St George’s Bay has become ‘the goose that laid the golden eggs’ – for some.

‘Thanks’ to the proposed db Group’s massive project and Corinthia’s mega ‘development’, St George’s Bay will lose its charm and character forever. It will be transformed into a Miami or Las Vegas-style resort, consisting of hotels, apartment blocks and swimming pools in a soulless concrete sprawl.

This is a Times of Malta print opinion piece