It’s a windy Sunday, or at least it’s supposed to be. That’s if the weatherman got his calculations right and a strong wind should have been blowing across the island since last night acting as a downright spoiler to whatever estival events you might have planned. For me that means that a boat trip with the extended family will not be taking place this afternoon and that I will have to forego the last visit to the various nooks and crannies of Comino and Gozo. To others, this ill wind scattering uninvited across the isles has meant a forfeit of an evening of melodic entertainment with Malta’s favourite musical son and Signor Cocciante.
Doubtless the anti-open theatre lobby will already be smirking and repeating the “I told you so” mantra about the usefulness of open air theatres and events in Malta. The crowing started earlier this week when the predicament of the European Baroque Orchestra showed up the limitations imposed by our humid environment on most instruments in open air. To be fair I did not really see the point of so much complaining when I sat through the splendidly set Midsummer Night’s Dream in the Argotti gardens (Bravo Globe Theatre people). While the occasional firework might have proven to be a slight distraction every now and then, the most distracting noise on the evening turned out to be a tiff between cats towards the end of the performance.
All this probably leaves a hung jury on the business of the pros and cons of outside performances at the end of the day although I am beginning to be convinced by the arguments favouring a revision of the City Gate plans to incorporate a roofed lot where the Opera House used to be.
Mistral
But back to the ill wind. It has been a splendiferous couple of days barring the couple of hours when the sweltering heat combined with the drenching humidity sufficed to send any reasonable man in tilt. I cannot stop singing the praises of some of Malta’s finest beaches – top among which must be Ghadira Bay. It might take a humungous effort of coordination and civic consciousness but the crystal waters and the absence of beach louts are enough to make you want to visit the beach again, again and again. Undoubtedly Malta’s best advert is Mother Nature herself.
Unfortunately we do not seem to be too keen on preserving the more natural side of the equation. It’s not just nature in the tree-hugging sort of sense. There are also more modern kinds of pollution that lead me to marvel at how tourists are not abandoning the islands in droves. Whatever happened, for example, to the rule/law of no major construction works in tourist areas in the summer months? Have the PLPN benefactors had their way again? Why does the man with the jackhammer still wake up anyone within listening distance of Church Street, Paceville at 8am and how does he walk away from his job after four hours daily of constant hammering. Does not prolonged use of a pneumatic drill turn a man into a human vibrator?
Another thing. Who, and with what divine inspiration, allowed the myriad cranes to apparate along the main thoroughfares of Paceville without so much of a by your leave? Paceville must be the only corner of Malta to witness 24-hour gridlock. The carefully planned (do you smell the sarcasm?) blockage of more parking spaces in Saint George’s Road (for Pender Place trucks to exit occasionally) must be second in uselessness only to the massive new “No Parking” footprint (at least six places) blocked out by the new boutique student harem/hotel known as The George. You would think that if new hotels come complete with underground parking they need not block a whole street of parking places.
Scirocco
Out on a boat trip on Friday (course reunion – never put 14 lawyers in one boat – which is why we used two) I could witness the growth and growth of the buildings along the coast from Valletta to Comino. Sliema is particularly impressive though not, obviously, to the levels of the Manhattan skyline that one can see on an evening trip on the New York Water taxi. A question that rings through your mind as you cruise along the beautiful waters is how much public land is dedicated to private building and foreclosed from public use. The saddest picture of them all must be the tiny tower dwarfed by a hotel in the Saint George’s Bay area. It yells for help surrounded by the walls of concrete – a fate soon to be shared by the tower at the end of Tigné Point.
One of my colleagues raised an interesting question regarding the foul smelling tuna farms. Technically speaking the area of the sea in which these tuna farms are kept is public property. How much of that public property generates returns to the benefit of the nation? Which set me thinking that if this was Venezuela we’d have nationalised the tuna farms ages ago. Instead we make do with a pittance of taxation on a product reared on public property and which incidentally leaves a nice oily trail on our seabed. Spiffin’.
Levante
Leaving nature and the seabed behind us there’s still things political going on in this island of Don Camillo and Peppone. News of Sliema’s young mayor being locked out of his own council’s emergency meeting made the headlines this week as yet another mayor seems to have to deal with a mutiny on his hands. This follows hot on the heels of the Fgura incident where another young mayor was sidelined by his own party – supposedly for his own good. Are the young studs of the PLPN stables finding the kitchen too hot to handle?
Meanwhile in Zebbug it was not the mayor making the headlines but the parish priest. Father Daniel Cardona erected a temporary billboard (we assume it is temporary for there is a temporary indulgence of 21 days from the requirement of Mepa permits if a billboard has a socio-religious function). The infamous quote of Malachi 2:16 has now become “God does not want divorce” – to which the obvious answer should be “God has no vote”.
Now I have no problem with the Catholic Church or members thereof airing their opinion publicly about the best future of civil legislation on the institute of marriage and its possible dissolution. As any other member of this open society of ours, and as one which has long influenced its staggered progress towards the future, the Church too has a role and understandable influence on what happens in our society. Which does not mean to say that its “catholic” and universal elements still hold automatically. If the civil debate on whether or not to allow divorce should centre around the issue of whether deities approve of such dissolution then we might as well resort to augurs and the slaying of goats on altars as we read the signs in their entrails.
This is proving to be hard to explain to the weak-willed believers who are unable to come to terms with the fact that the availability of divorce does not perforce mean that they themselves will be forced to avail of it. I should hope that we will not get stuck discussing the finer elements of divination while ignoring the more secular of arguments that should be relevant to this discussion. Once again J’accuse laments the fact that the only party with the balls to take a definite stand on the issue of the introduction of divorce is the one that has been effectively ostracised by the voting population. Such is our ironic predicament. Bring on the cohabitation Bill – there seems not to be a Malachi quote to tell us of God’s will on that particular issue.
Libeccio
I’ve left the worst wind for Gozitan commuters for last. I didn’t spend enough time on Gozo this time round and must make amends as soon as possible. Last Sunday though I did get to eat at one of Gozo’s best kept secrets. Il-Lantern restaurant at Marsalforn (part of the guesthouse in Qbajjar Road) serves what is probably the best rabbit spaghetti and stew in the whole of the Maltese islands. A footballing buddy of my youth, Rafel, braves the heat of the kitchen to provide you with a five-star homely stew fit for the palate of a king. Don’t expect refined silver service – it would not befit the ambience – but do expect a welcoming smile and good hearty food that your grandma would enjoy without batting an eyelid. Sunday visitors can also buy the Indy on the way in.
It’s been a fun break back home packed with sun, food and sea. It will be hard to slog back to Mitteleuropa where the winds are known to reach over 120 km/h and where most concerts and activities are held indoors in magnificent theatres but a man needs to get bread to the table. Even if most of it is gluten free. I’m over and out from Paceville, Saint Julian’s, Malta.
www.akkuza.com returns to Luxembourg by Tuesday. Back to basics and blogging for Malta’s longest-running source of indy punditry.
This article and accompanying Bertoon appear in today’s edition of The Malta Independent on Sunday
