Roses love our climate, but we seem to love them only on 14 February

Valentine’s Day, a Monday this year. So not really the best day of the week to dine out with romance in the air. But, in Malta we’re sure that won’t deter the ardent couples or couples to be. Against a backdrop of the pro-divorce, pro-marriage, anti-divorce debate, Valentines will be celebrated here as it usually is. Roadside stalls have been much in evidence this past week selling flowers, all red of course, along with heart-shaped balloons sporting corny slogans. Commercialism reigns even if commitment might not.

This most unsaintly of ‘saints’ days is long awaited by local businesses. The Westin Dragonara Resort ran a photo competition asking people to send in their most romantic shot to have a chance to win a hotel night with slap-up meal thrown in. We love the entries – an anthropology of Malta’s romantic duos at its best.

With social media the Valentine’s Day business can reach out further. Of course, others on social media step in to parody the efforts; many competition photo albums now do the rounds with unintended captions attached.

But if you’re paying for your romantic meal out rather than winning it, pause a moment to think whether the night of the 14th, Monday aside, is the best day to choose. I had the misfortune to dine a few years back in Gozo on the 14th, completely forgetting it was Valentine’s. The atmosphere was slushy, the music and set-piece menu for ‘Valentine’s Day’ even worse and the meal came after a very long wait and at a very high price. In a restaurant that was normally excellent. That was on a Saturday. Perhaps some of us will be spared this year thanks to V-Day falling on a Monday.

Photo:Ricky David

Corto Maltese - but what's this character's connection to Malta?

Malta and Maltese, noun and adjective, don’t always relate to the island or its people. Our Google Alerts for these words regularly comes up with a motley bunch of people, places and things that seem to have some connection to the islands, but what exactly? To sort out fiction and fact, we dig behind the names to see if they can claim some Maltese heritage, genealogy or other links. These are the ones that surface often online and when you chat face to face about Malta with people overseas.

Maltesers

A confectionery product manufactured by Mars, Inc. They are near spherical and have a malt-honeycomb centre coated in milk chocolate. They are most popular in the UK, Australia, Ireland, Canada, and Portugal, so says Wikipedia. The current name is a portmanteau of the words “malt” (one of the main ingredients) and “teasers”. Despite the similarity in the name, Maltesers are not named after the European country of Malta or its people, the Maltese.
We say, however, that anyone Maltese who’s lived abroad, especially in Anglophone countries, no doubt will have had their leg pulled at some point by being referred to as a ‘Malteser’.

Maltese Falcon

Four connections here: the novel, and film of the same name; the bird itself; and a 289-foot clipper sailing yacht.

Novel & Film: think Malta, and a lot of people think of ‘The Maltese Falcon’, a 1930 detective novel by Daschiell Hammett which was immortalised into a film noir classic (1941) of the same name starring Humphrey Bogart. The novel’s Maltese Falcon is a jewel-encrusted figurine of a black bird that has is believed to have been a gift from the island of Malta to the King of Spain a few hundred years before the action takes place. The jewelled bird has a peripheral but ever-present role in the plot, and therefore lends it name to the novel. But no action takes place in Malta. The rare, valuable figurine could easily have been something else from somewhere else had the author wished.

The Bird: Malta does have a regal association with the falcon though. When Holy Roman Emperor Charles V granted the Maltese Islands to the Knights of St John in 1530, after they were driven from Rhodes by the Saracens, he requested two Maltese falcons in annual rent: one for himself; the other for the viceroy of Sicily. Malta was renowned then for best-of-breed peregrine falcons, and was, until the mid 20th century, still a place where they nested, albeit in meagre numbers, on Gozo’s Ta’ Cenc cliffs. But, instead of being prized as hunting birds, they themselves became hunted to near oblivion. The last resident pair was shot in 1980. It’s probably fitting then that the Maltese falcon of Hammett’s novel is a statue. For more on falcons and the art of falconry today in Malta, see here.

The Yacht – this Maltese Falcon is the third largest private sailing yacht in the world (88m), and is berthed at Vittoriosa, Malta. Check it out here.

Corto Maltese

This is one of our favourite loose Malta connections. Corto Maltese is a comic book hero/anti-hero created by the Italian, Hugo Pratt, in the 1960′s. Pratt produced Corto Maltese stories for over two decades with the last serialised in 1989. The comic book character Corto Maltese was a wandering gentlemen rogue of World War I era in Europe and a sailor on the Seven Seas. His adventures ranged Venice to the then Congo, China and Siberia. The character was ‘born’ in Valletta on July 10, 1887, the son of a British sailor from Cornwall and an Andalusian gypsy. Corto Maltese’s name is thought to derived also from the Venetian Corte Maltese – Courtyard of the Maltese – today Corte Contarini del Bovolo, next to Palazzo Contarini del Bovolo in Venice. His name has been propagated into other comics and even into Tim Burton’s Batman movie. Whatever the fictitious connections with Malta, this rogue character does ring true when you walk some of Valletta’s less done-up waterfront areas and back streets with their music hall relics! We love him…. See the books here.

Amber Valletta

Ok, so we’re deviating with ‘Valletta’ but it’s a common enough Maltese name. American model and actress, Amber Evangeline Valletta, born February 9, 1974 in Tuscon, Arizona, has no links to Malta we can trace. She may well wash up here filming something at some point though, given Malta’s attraction as a location. Check her biog out here.

Maltese Dog

This breed of dog does seem to have some connection of the Islands, or at least the central Mediterranean, even if we can’t pinpoint Malta in its pedigree. It’s a popular miniature breed, and another popular diminutive breed, the Chihuahua, is a favourite in Malta today. The Maltese is an ancient breed has been known by a variety of names throughout the centuries. Originally called the “Canis Melitaeus” in Latin, it has also been known in English as the “ancient dog of Malta,” the “Roman Ladies’ Dog,” the “Maltese Lion Dog,” and the “Bichon” among other names, according to Wikipedia. Malta is ‘Melita’ in Greek and Latin, ‘malat’ in Phoenician, so a strong association between breed and country dating from ancient times seems likely. From Wikipedia, we read: ‘the dogs probably made their way to Europe through the Middle East with the migration of nomadic tribes. Some writers believe these proto-Maltese were used for rodent control (MIO:’which we think would have made it particularly useful here in Malta!’). The oldest record of this breed was found on a Greek amphora found in the Etruscan town of Vulci, in which a Maltese-like dog is portrayed along with the word Μελιταιε (Melitaie). Archaeologists date this ancient Athenian product to the decades around 500 B. C. References to the dog can also be found in Ancient Greek and Roman literature.

Photo: Halighalie

In need of a good home.

I noticed this year that the usual Christmas roundabout adornments were slightly later going out. Now that we have a lot of nicely landscaped green patches as we gyrate around the Islands, the consortium that maintains them, ELC, does us proud with a variety of cribs and nativity tableaux each year.

I don’t have much time to glance at them as I attempt to enter and exit roundabouts with car and body intact. But my son in the back seat loves to spot the differences among them. Last year, after we’d passed some, he said that few cribs actually had baby Jesus in them. Joseph and Mary were there, heads inclined lovingly downwards towards an empty nest. It hit the news a day or so later. Apparently the baby Jesuses were being stolen. Baby snatchers were in the news in Germany a day or two ago, but in Malta, baby Jesus snatchers make the headlines.

This year, signs are that the roundabout robbing of festive decor is back again. So far, we’ve had a Father Christmas stolen near Zurrieq. Perhaps it proved just too much a burden of guilt to go for baby Jesuses this time round (apparently, a Jesus was handed in to a ‘confessor’ in Gozo last year in remorse).

The price tags on the small models in the photo above do seem to suggest the snatcher-robbers’ motive. Why share the joy of the crib with all and sundry passing by in a cloud of exhaust fumes when you can have your own personal Jesus for free? I am foreseeing an amnesty being introduced by ELC after Christmas each year to encourage the snatchers to return their booty without prosecution.

But I write this from the UK in a small town where this year’s town square Christmas tree is surrounded by link fencing – to stop louts, petty thieves or vandals stealing decorations or damaging it? A sad state of affairs. Malta’s crib snatching may be a good laugh, but the trend to damage communal efforts to celebrate Christmas is on the rise. Our version is just less insidious than that elsewhere. For now.

E6ZY2BPSUS33

Perfect in its imperfection

Life’s too short to paint a louver.

I came to that conclusion last weekend. As I laboured over the louver shutter with sandpaper, my mind recalled the phrase, coined over 30 years ago by British writer Shirley Conran on publishing her book ‘Superwoman’, that ‘life’s too short to stuff a mushroom’.

I’d been attempting to scrape, undercoat and apply two coats of top-coat gloss to louvered doors leading out onto a balcony. I did them two years ago, but already their paint has flaked off from the constant blast of sun and rain they get in their elevated position. I can just about paint regular doors and frames (27 in all on my house’s exterior), but the one and only louver I possess is another matter.

Malta’s spring, all to brief, sees most householders, and cafe and kiosk owners too, in a mad race against time to do repairs before the heat dries paint on the brush in an instant. It’s tough finding enough time between winter’s last throes of dampness and summer’s searing heat to get these D.I.Y jobs done. Inevitably, spring comes and goes and I get perhaps one door painted. Meeting the louver biannually has made me pause for thought and reason out why I am happily giving up on painting this year…

Peeling, neglected paintwork in sun-bleached muted colours is an archetypal feature of the Mediterranean and no stranger to Malta. Visitors here fall into two camps when the see the poor paintwork: either they think it endearing, and worthy of picture postcard shots (Judging by our Flickr stream, faded doors and shutters are a popular photo subject); or they are astonished we don’t care for our houses more.

They are both right: I don’t care because it is darn hard work painting against the odds. Now, as a local, and no longer taking holiday snaps, I must remind myself how quaint the peeling veneer once seemed to me. It is the stuff of a thousand coffee table books on Mediterranean style, homes and life. But I am lucky enough now to live here and have the real thing to admire!

Photo: Courtesy of Gege Gatt

If you live in Malta, at some stage, you're going to experience a blackout.

Living on a small island requires a sense of humour. None more so than knowing how to cope during a major power outage.

Blackouts are part of Malta’s ethnography – like death, they’re the great leveller.  No matter how rich, beautiful or connected you are, at some stage, you will be plunged into darkness, your computer will stop working, your fridge will stop humming, your washing-machine will go silent.  In Malta, you need to be stocked with matches, candles (or in my case, solar-powered garden lights) to cope with the inevitable.

What’s noteworthy about the recent cuts are two factors. First, their frequency – one on March 22nd, and the other yesterday, April 2nd; and second, their universality – total, blanket outages, as opposed to the ones that regularly, relentlessly strike households, and are tolerated as ‘scheduled’ outages.  The fact that yesterday’s blackout occurred on Good Friday at 19.35, at the close of a day that was uncharacteristically blue and sunny, with processions in full flow, triggered more diatribes about Enemalta, fat cats, incompetence, rocketing tariffs and sustainable solutions. The serious side of this is that last night, many businesses suffered losses because of something beyond their control. Others just couldn’t work.

Blackouts can lead to other things. I was in the middle of preparing a lovely sugo for one when the lights went out. Five minutes later, as I scrambled in the garden to uproot my solar-powered lights, I got a call from a friend whose laptop had no battery life. Ten minutes later, glass of wine in one hand and a ladle in the other, we mulled over the upsides of Malta’s regular blackouts:

Conversations. In total darkness, people can say things they have been meaning to say for a long time.   For all we know, during Malta’s power cut, people outed themselves, ruffled the hair of their children and finally said sorry,

Wine-drinking. There’s probably no better tonic for a blackout.  And for once, you can really focus on identifying all those subtle influences  and tannins that connoisseurs always boast about during wine-tastings.

Star-gazing. You realise the extent of light-pollution during a blackout.  Last night, the church was backlit by a canopy of stars.

Wax figures.  You normally have to be a kid to be allowed to do stuff with wax and crayons.  On blackout day, you get to do your own swirls and get your eyebrows waxed by accident.

Book-reading. A book by candlelight takes a totally different spin.

Romance. Some people go for the early night and rekindle their sex life.

Gratitude. When the lights come back, you literally feel like partying like it’s 1999.

Photo: Mario George Vella

Five men make light work of a heavy statue or three. Say cheese.

There are 359 churches over 316 sq km in Malta.  That’s 1.14 churches per sq km. I believe that puts Malta slap behind the Vatican in terms of church coverage .  Now consider that we have 1,309 inhabitants per sq km, that 98% of Maltese are baptised Roman Catholic and every village has some band club of sorts and the theocracy maths starts getting complicated.

I live in Siggiewi, right behind the lovely baroque dome of St Nicholas parish church. You cannot get more village hard core than this. If I crane my neck, from my wi-fi station in the garden, the dome soars above the TV aerials and the water tanks and the pigeon coops.

Maundy Thursday is migraine day.   During the day, the bell ringing in incessant, perhaps to encourage visits to the  Last Supper pageant.  In the evening, at exactly 20.23 hrs the bell-ringing is replaced by a loud, relentless rattle.  It’s difficult to describe, except that it’s a horrible, slow, throaty, tuneless sound that could be a large, megaphoned cheese-grater or some special effect from a Hammer Horror film.  It scares the living daylight out of anyone aged 7 or under and means I will not sleep well right up to Easter Sunday, when the bell-ringing will be even more energetic, and hopefully more tuneful.

The second phenomenon is that from Maundy Thursday all the way to the evening of Good Friday, people go on a carcade of seven churches.  If you’re a kid, it’s an interesting ritual if you’re not prone to car-sickness, as you get to visit churches off the beaten track and compare tapestries, statues and overall opulence of the parish your parents happen to hit on.  And if you crash a village at the right time, you can also join the traditional, occasionally gruesome Good Friday procession and meet a Roman centurion or your own personal Jesus.

Add to this fasting, special confectioneries and theories about the weather and you have a uniquely Maltese cocktail of folklore, religion and superstition rolled into one.

I wonder how many people on Good Friday are barricaded like me, in a village core besieged by the madding crowds clocking up the church count, to the backdrop of a grating rattle.

Photo: Andrew Galea Debono

It's OK, the real live wave is coming soon

Pope Benedict XVI’s visit to Malta, scheduled for April 17-18, is to celebrate the 1,950th anniversary of the shipwreck of St Paul (Malta’s patron saint) on the islands in A.D. 60. Malta will be his 14th trip overseas since becoming Pope and makes an ideal visit outside his home territory.

Malta is near (an hour from Rome); has a population that’s stated as being 98 per cent Roman Catholic, and is guaranteed therefore to give him a vociferously warm welcome; is safe (little likelihood of the allegedly deranged leaping barriers to have a go at him); and it has a history steeped in defending the faith (as home to the Knights of St John for around 250 years).

There are also the benefits of Malta that most tourists enjoy – Malta’s compact size means the Pope, according to his published programme, will pass through some 33 parishes (just under half the total). The Popemobil won’t stop in all of course. During the visits of Pope John Paul II (1990 and 2001), many parish priests were disappointed, to put it mildly, as all they saw of the Pope was a papal wave from a rather high-speed Popemobil. Allegedly too, local legend has it, nuns were known to have used rather interesting methods to get to the front of the crowd during previous papal visits.

No doubt Pope Benedict’s trip will provide years’ worth of anecdotes along with memories of his astute addresses and the solemnity of religious ritual, handshakes with the President and blessings. Leaving aside the logistics, you’ll come across mumblings about the Pope’s visit. The Vatican has said that the Pope’s visit will be a time to reflect on and deepen the Christian faith. Here’s a round up of some issues minorities would like the Pope to reflect on in Malta, but on which he is he is unlikely to:

Interfaith Dialogue: When the Pope visits Britain later this year, interfaith dialogue will have to be on the agenda given the recent schisms in the Church of England and the multi-faith make-up of the UK. But, in Malta, with a solid 98 per cent (not all practising of course) Catholic, his agenda setters see no need to bother with it here, despite calls from Hindus and Jewish leaders across the world for him to urge Malta to have greater moral responsibility towards minority faiths on the Islands. The minority will just have to let the show go on. But, we should reserve judgement till we hear the Pope’s addresses, though it seems he will play to a home crowd only.

Religious equality under Maltese law for minority faiths: Linked to the point above, is a similar call by influential spokespeople of other world faiths for the Pope to urge Malta to treat all religions and denominations equally under its laws. Malta’s Criminal Code reportedly makes one liable to imprisonment up to six months for publicly vilifying the “Roman Catholic Apostolic Religion”, while committing such act against “any cult tolerated by law” makes one liable to imprisonment for up to three months.

Teaching of comparative religion in Malta’s schools: While religion is not a compulsory subject in the curriculum, there are those who feel religious teaching in Malta’s schools should include information about all world faiths, not solely the dominant Catholic religion. Children get a lot of Catholicism from their upbringing, family and parish yet have no formal way of being introduced to the teachings of other world faiths in the spirit of understanding, broadening horizons, tolerance for other’s beliefs and so on.

Pope Benedict’s 13 journeys to date have been tailored to national situations. Malta, with its homogeneity of faith, doesn’t require him to raise these issues. Both fervent Catholics and the less so will be living in hope then for the Pope’s visit. One group may be more disappointed than those parish priests who missed John Paul II – at least they got a brief wave. The minority voices here most likely won’t even get a cursory nod in their direction.

Photo: Gethin Thomas

Islands are like a magnet to those that have been away for a while

In Brazil, they have a word called ‘saudade’.  Literally translated, it stands for ‘longing.’

It’s inevitable that there are more people of Maltese origin living away from Malta than on the islands.  They’re increasing by the day, as young people maximise on the opportunities that an EU passport offers and leave in search of work, adventure and fulfilment in the bigger world. It’s a positive thing, and brings renewed energy and much-needed new ideas when some of these people trickle back to the country.

There are two events that bring migrants from the UK and mainland Europe back to Malta in their hundreds. The first is national or EU Parliament elections, with the unique Maltese practice of hugely-subsidised airfares on Air Malta as an incentive for Maltese citizens based abroad to come back and cast their vote.  The second is Christmas. You only have to log on to Twitter or see the status on Facebook pages for signs of the Maltese version of ‘saudade’ and sheer expectancy as migrants get into countdown mode to reconnect with family and old networks. Luqa airport these days is a traffic jam of tears, squeals and trolleys piled with over-sized luggage.

So for the next 10 days or so, the islands will echo to the migrant tribes. You will find them congregated in huddles in old friends’ homes, in village bars, in organised parties in expensive venues.  Eating too much, drinking too much, blinking at the Malta they left behind with new saudade eyes.

Picture:   Kris Damato

University of Malta: open or closed to exploring the limits of a nation's morality?

On 29^th October, the Rector of the University of Malta banned the publication of Ir-Realta’, a student magazine, and reported the editor, as well as the writer of a piece within its covers, to the police.  The ban triggered a national debate about censorship and freedom of expression:  our view was (and remains) that this was yet another side-effect of the smallness of the nation.  On the 4^th December, the Rector wrote in a national newspaper to explain his decision and students held protests on the University campus on the same day.

Andrew Galea, a University student and writer, wades into the debate with his personal opinion on the matter.

Isn’t it fair to say that people expressing opinions in public should do so responsibly?  And that they should disseminate their messages having considered their audiences carefully?

So far, these question have been lacking in discussions on the censorship of Alex Vella Gera’s  ‘Li Tkisser Sewwi’, published in the student magazine Ir-Realta’. The debate should not be focusing on the piece’s literary worth – that is purely subjective – but rather on the propriety of publishing so graphic a story in a freely-accessible journal.  It worries me that no one seems to have picked up on this.

There are specific reasons why films are age classified.  And it doesn’t take a background in psychology to appreciate the effect of so vivid and colourful a story as ‘Li Tkisser Sewwi’ on young minds.  This is why such material is legally designated in most countries as unsuitable for dissemination to those below the age of 18.

The argument of the editor of Ir-Realta’, for whom I have a tremendous respect, is that he has ‘never seen a child roaming about university campus’.  I find his argument falls short.  If, by child, he means primary or middle school students, then I too have only seen children in the context of school excursions to the university library, or science week on campus, or being walked from the crèche.  However, he appears to exclude the prospective sixth form students and occasional secondary student, who are usually below the age of 18. Quite apart from this though, I believe that Ir-Realta’ is distributed at Junior College.

However, this is more than an issue of age classification, because, in any case, the appropriate classification for such an article can be disputed; some might say 18, some 16.  The point is more that no effort at all was made to give readers advance warning of the nature of the story in the now infamous Issue 8.

I have read most of Ir-Realta’s publications keenly, enjoying intelligent and thought-provoking articles and opinions. However, I was surprised by the unusual inclusion of a story like this.  It is not something I am accustomed to reading in Ir-Realta’, and not something I would necessarily look to the paper to provide.  Given this, it’s not hard therefore to imagine someone putting it down inadvertently on the kitchen table, not having read the piece in question, and then have a younger sibling pick it up and read it.

Bizarrely, those arguing against the banning by the Rector of Issue 8, have drawn comparisons between their case and the censorship of Unifaun theatre’s production ‘Stitching’, written by Anthony Neilson, as well as the arrest of the person who created and projected weird visuals at a party, and a man arrested for impersonating Jesus at a Nadur carnival.

The parallels fail most prominently because of the reasons for the censorship. In the case of ‘Stitching’, we have a play that was not even properly read by the censors, and was thus banned on ignorant, ridiculous grounds.  With regards to the young man sentenced to six months prison with a fine for his visuals of the Pope and then of a naked woman, as well as the man arrested for impersonating Jesus at a Nadur carnival, we have cases of censorship that are at worst akin to fundamentalism and at best just downright humorless.

I would conclude by saying this to those incensed by the perceived censorship of Ir-Realta’ and everyone else jumping on the whole anti-censorship bandwagon:  your right to freedom of expression is indeed sacred, but so too is the right of others to be warned in advance that some of what you say or do may be offensive.  In short, would it have hurt so much to offer an explanation or an age classification sticker with the story?the unsuspecting public – particularly youths.

Photo: Albireo

Tourists or the new locals? Hard to tell these days.

It seems to be the most obvious thing for an island that has in its past functioned as a colony and has lived off tourism for the last half century, that people from across the world wash up here. To their surprise, many stay far longer than they intended. However, in the past five years or so, there seems to be a far greater influx of people who are choosing to move here for work and play. EU statistics out earlier this month showed that Malta’s population rise in the past year was mainly attributable to migrants (of various kinds).

We’re now 414,000 people in all. So, we’ve taken a stab at an anthropological view of the new Malta tribes, in no particular order:

1. Returned Maltese migrants. Nothing new in this. The Maltese have been emigrating since the 1950s, and some trickle back when they hit their silver years. The older ones tend to be the most patriotic. Someone in category 6 below once told me: ‘You guys always seem to have a quiet alarm bell, when you are living away from Malta. It’s mumbling ‘Go back home.’ It just gets louder the older one gets’. This is changing, of course, as many Maltese now choose to go and live in EU member states.

2. Online gaming company executives. Malta saw a niche in the online gaming sector a few years ago and set up EU-endorsed legislation that enables online gaming companies to operate from this country on a pan-European basis. This has led to a veritable influx of senior and middle-management types – mainly Brits and Swedes – that took up residence in Malta without much knowledge of what was waiting for them. Many tend to congregate around Portomaso until they find their feet. Some are more intrepid though and are braving old farmhouses in village cores, probably seeing their stay as an adventure/or kind of extended holiday.

3. Tax-mitigators. People with access to bright accountants looking for a more tax-efficient way of protecting their earnings, levering on Malta’s double taxation agreements with several countries. If you’re a lone professional, you can elect to get your world-wide income taxed here if that income is generated elsewhere, and you choose to be resident in Malta.

4. Heritage lovers. What you get in Malta is world-class heritage, from pre-history to British colonial rule. We’ve found a few museum and arty luvvie types that fell for what they saw and stayed.

5. Divers. They live to dive so the move is for pure quality of diving life. They boast to friends back in their homelands that diving is just 15 minutes from their work place. We still think that Malta has some of the best diving around. Sailors too have moved here for similar sport-lifestyle reasons.

6. Consultants to Government. Not as significant in numbers as the days when Malta was preparing to join the EU, but you still meet a fair few people who are working on making the public sector and various government agencies more efficient.

7. Senior Telecoms executives. Now the three main telecoms companies are all in foreign hands, senior people have moved in.

8. Bankers. Same as 7 above, except that one Maltese bank lingers on.

9. Hotel & Catering staff. The five-star hotels ship them in to run the show, speak to customers in their native language. Always seem to be uncannily sun-tanned. One popular beach bar is manned entirely by foreign staff.

10. Footballers. Yes, we’re devoid of success in international football, but that hasn’t stopped the local teams from scouting for cheap talent – often finding footballers way past their prime and who might fit into some of the other categories here.

11. Call centre operators. Young people, primarily working on 24/7 shifts in online gaming and banking.

12. Timeshare touts. Mainly British, London boys or ‘from somewhere up north.’ You can spot them a mile away because they look friendly at 8.30 in the morning and give chase when some innocent old dears decide to have a leisurely walk before the heat sets in.

13. Dancers and ‘entertainers’. Usually permanently based in Paceville, but with some spillage in Bugibba and Qawra. Often from Eastern Europe.
‘
14. British and German retirees. They come for the sea and that flat in Bugibba or a farmhouse in Gharb, Gozo.

15. Love birds. Again, a fairly universal tribe who pack up on impulse to join their better half. They either go native and get crinkly skin or miss everything cosmopolitan, orderly and green, and start planning an exit route soon after their arrival. May take a lifetime to actually crystallise their departure. Married life, kids at schools and so on makes their departure almost impossible. They are nostalgic for life back home, but would never really return there.

16. Quality of lifers. Made up of several subgroups including dreamers and people fed up of Northern climates, commuting, the rat race, high house prices and various other ‘modern life is rubbish’ gripes. Can also cross-over to various tribes in this list. Can be of any age group.

17. Refugees and ‘illegal’ migrants. Their arrival has become one of the most most divisive topics on the island, but was inevitable once Malta joined the EU. Sadly, their plight tends to bring out the worst in a lot of people, and the best in a mere handful.

Photo: Walter Lo Cascio