Category Archives: Malta

Harvest Time with a Dash of Non-Compliance

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We have entered a new month that is to bring us the season of autumn. It will feel like summer for at least another 6 weeks here on the Rock, but the days are shortening and I need to mentally prepare myself for the horrid, damp indoor cold that is the hit my dwelling in a few months’ time. But for now it’s still very much flip-flops- on- my- mind. It has been a good, yet not terribly eventful summer and as it’s getting considering cooler, it might be interesting to take stock of the harvest. It’s been a year since I returned to the Rock after a fantastic adventure, that has reinforced my desire for a certain lifestyle and on this Rock I have been leading a life that is quite contrary to that desire. But (for now) I am a corporate whore and my pimp is good to me, so there you go.

Feasts and ‘Victories’

Today is a public holiday on the Rock carrying the name Feast of our Ladies of Victories. Having done British-Isles living I’m used to public holidays just being a days off, seemingly for no evident reason besides that the government has decided so. If public holidays have ladies and victories in the name, one might start to wonder why. Apparently this public holiday is to celebrate the end of the Great Siege of 1565(!) when Malta’s rulers of the time, the Knights Templar, successfully withstood the Ottomans who wanted to conquer the island. The name might have been given to the event, because it was seen as a victory of Christianity over Islam, but I might be taken this too far. Although I am darn pleased with a day off, I don’t quite get why there needs to be a public holiday to celebrate something that happened almost 5 centuries ago and commemorates that some foreign rules, forming a secret society, kept some other foreign rulers out. But history can be weird and some people’s customs even weirder.

Election Scam and Burkini Ban

While September is a great month in terms of public holidays it also announces the end of summer.  My summer might not have been that eventful, plenty has been going on on the world stage. The phantom war on terror is still raging, and in the US a buffoon on the one hand and a lying, deceiving, corrupt and murderous she-bastard no one likes, except the mainstream media, on the other, are ‘fighting’ who is to become the next puppet president of the US. Who wins doesn’t actually matter. The populace is sure to get fucked by the pay masters of whoever gets (s)elected. Slightly closer to home, things have got rather quiet in regards to Britain’s Brexit vote and I don’t see it quite happening. In La ‘douce’ France some beach towns have found it necessary to prohibit women from covering up on the beach, which is just about the most retarded ban a so-called ‘free’ nation could impose. The French High Court has already ruled that the ban is unconstitutional, which a 5-year old could’ve figured out, but some towns stick to the ban anyway. I suggest that people, who find fully clothed people on the beach offensive get a life. If you are all about liberty and yet support this ban, you are imposing on someone else’s liberty in two ways. A, you seem to want to have a say about what people should and shouldn’t wear and B, you obstruct a woman who prefers to cover up on the beach from having a chilled time on said beach, because if she can’t wear what she would like to wear, she ain’t coming to said beach. If these are French values they totally suck.

Love and Non-Compliance

Besides a summer of burkini bans it has been a sports summer and with the exception of a few Euro 2016 matches I didn’t catch any of if. Give the people bread and games. I don’t eat bread and most of the games they want to distract us with are shit. Meanwhile I’m biding my time in the corporate prison, where I am sufficiently entertained and plan for new adventures. As I called for a no-fear summer a few months ago, I’d like to encourage you to keep the no-fear stance, prepare for the darker days and don’t be deceived.

Sail & Discover in Warriors One Two and Three

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Fire, Water and the Cross By Paul K Porter #paulkporterphotography

A couple of weeks ago I did something rather impulsive. I don’t consider myself an impulsive person, but when it comes to travel and adventure I’m keen to take on pretty much anything you throw at me, even- or especially- when it’s planned as a last minute experience. The yoga studio I train at in my overpriced and overrated neighbourhood full of foreigners, of whom many call themselves ‘expat’ – and if you want to know what I think of those, please check earlier posts on my life at the African Med- had organised a yoga- sailing retreat around the Maltese isles. As I am considered a loyal customer- and if you like yoga and know what hot yoga exercise costs in London Town compared to this island, you would be too, I was invited to join the enterprise at last minute for a very friendly price. My corporate jailers looked upon me favourable and I was released for a week to go on a yoga- sailing adventure. There were a few firsts for me, which I didn’t quite realise until a couple of days into the retreat. Although I am a keen yogini I had never been on a yoga retreat. I had never been at open sea on a sailing boat that small- the yacht had space for 10 sleepers- and I never had been on a boat for more than a full day.

The Retreat I went on- I bought it

What first became apparent was the clientele. As sailing is not a cheap hobby and inexpensive yoga retreats in Europe are very thin on the ground, most of my sister yoginis- as yoga tends to be a chicken fest- where boss-women with salaries to match. Think Destiny’s Child’s

“All the women who are independent
Throw your hands up at me
All the honeys who makin’ money
Throw your hands up at me”

Some of these honeys reserve plenty of time and funds to go on retreats as a solid investment into and for the betterment of themselves.

What’s Water Got to do with It?

Besides the boss-women honeys, there is the fact that one is on water and if you are used to steady land at all times, this can feel quite  unfamiliar and unsteady. On our first day the sea was unusually rough for the time of year and I got sea sick for the first time . Then there is the space, or the lack of it. Space on floating vehicles tend to be limited, unless you’ve booked a luxury cabin on a floating city. Although people are my favourite animals, I am a closet hermit, who needs her space and to some this can come across as anti-social or moody behaviour.

Beware the Zombie Collapse

As most of the power honeys were terribly attached to their mobile phones I was forced to deal with my pet peeve and what I consider socially accepted anti-social behaviour. It can be considered weird by some to physically remove yourself from a group, yet for most it seems totally accepted to mentally remove yourself from the group by finding the pettiness – in most cases- on you mobile device far more interesting than the people around you. I don’t get how real, face-to-face human interaction could every win it from interaction in cyber space between profiles, that are often just fabrications and half truths in an attempt to make oneself look good in cyber space, because one fears that the real ‘thing’ will never do. You might think I’m exaggerating, but the zombie collapse is here and it ain’t a joke.

Sailing, especially sailing for several days in a row in summery settings, forces you to connect with water. When it comes to the zodiac, I am an earth sign and I have been told that both the moon and the rising sign at the time of my birth within the same system are fire signs. For what this knowledge is worth, there is not a lot of water going on in my character. I both admire the wideness and depths of the sea and, as I am not a confident swimmer, they fill me with trepidation at the same time, but that trepidation might be a common sentiment amongst sailors and other sea-folk. Despite this sense of fear I believe that water has healing and transcending powers and that connecting with this element could be good for me, especially after getting rather frustrated after a sup yoga session, which is yoga on water on a longboard.

The Salt of the Earth

When I came back home, which was never far away, I felt that something had shifted and wondered what is in a holiday that can make you ‘shift’? What is in a challenge and what makes people change? Holidaying seems a necessity of life and it doesn’t seem to matter whether you work or lead a life of leisure or whether you love your occupation or vocation or not. As human creatures we seem to like a change of scenery and as everyone- who can afford it- seems to be doing it, it could be considered weird if one preferred to stay at home. Although we might be creatures of habit, I seem to learn and discover most if I break with my current routine. Besides not going to the corporate prison, this can entail engaging with people, you might normally not engage with or choose to live on water when you’re used to the steadiness of land. Or do yoga in the outdoors, where you can be effected by the elements, let it be wind, the sun or mosquitoes at dusk.

I’ve always considered Malta an interesting and pleasant Rock one needs to escape from ever so often. For this adventure I didn’t escape from Malta. I just saw the islands from a different perspective. For now, it’s my salt of the earth as it has given me well-being and great experiences and above all; it reinforces the idea to stick to the written word to set me free and avoid the smartphone zombie collapse in the process.

Namaste, sisters and brothers.

Things that make you go “ugh!” (and go for independence)

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cameron eton messIt has been a year since I made my Malta Move and as good and exciting as  it felt in the beginning the better and the more exciting it is now. I´ve managed to provide myself with a better quality of life and I believe that is quite a present to give oneself. My money here goes a lot (I mean A  LOT) further, the summers are long and proper, filled with plenty of entertainment, and besides all that I got to know some groovy people. But I´m very blessed; I tend to meet groovy people wherever I go. There are a few minor cons, but the pros by far outweighs those contras. The improvements are not only related to matters like weather, money and people. It also seems that the ruling classes of Great Britain, the country I ´fled´ from, make it more and more obvious that there really isn´t a vision – I´m sure there is one, but probably one, we, the people are not allowed to know- and that there is not much care for the needs and wants of the people. Most of my friends in the UK lead happy and fabulous lives, yet recent political developments by no means make me feel home sick.

First, the banking scandals keep on hitting us – gold price rigging by HSBC, RBS mortgage advice fraud-to the extent that people are no longer surprised. And still many a banker has the audacity to say the public has to stop the banker bashing. What do you mean out of touch?! The British people have been indoctrinated that the financial sector is good for the country and prior to 2008 that indeed seemed the case. But after massive boom came an even greater bust the earlier mentioned ongoing banking scandals clearly illustrate that the financial sector hasn´t got the interest of the people at heart, if it had a heart in the first place. When Cameron says protecting the financial sector is protecting  Britain´s national interest, he is basically saying that the national interest is not the interest of the people. The sector might provide many jobs and make a lot of money created out of thin air, but it´s not the people who are profiting from those billions generating. The trickle- down effect is a fallacy. Those financial institutions make nice tax deals with HRMC (UK tax collecting agency) and that tiny bit of  tax paid is spent on tax breaks for wealthy people or waging war in countries the UK has absolutely no business. New regulations and newly created institutions like the Financial Conduct Authority are to give the people the idea that the sector is reforming, but it´s business as usual and that massive bust of 2008 could and probably will happen again. So Don´t believe the hype.

No wonder quite a few Scots want to leave the union and if I lived in Scotland I would totally go for independence. Scottish first minister Alex Salmond doesn´t seem to have given the Scottish post-union economic structure and monetary policy much thought as his ideas on this matter seem a tat too simplistic and vague. But that doesn´t mean others haven´t given it a thought, as the independence movement is bigger than Salmond, or that Scotland wouldn´t be able to be a prosperous nation on its own accord. If Scotland is going to vote in favour of independence in a couple of weeks´ time, the million dollar question is: how truly independent will an independent Scotland be? Is there a nation on this earth that is truly by the people for the people? It doesn´t even have to be by the people, as long as it is for the people. Switzerland with her system of almost direct democracy might come close in comparison to the nations, that keep on invading other nations to ´spread democracy´, yet make a tragic farce of their own democracies back home: a fraction of the electorate chooses which individuals the vast majority get shafted by.

Talking of invading other countries, it seems the UK and the US are dead keen – literally that is- to ´return´ to Iraq and the wider region – not that they have been away-  although they are playing it cool. Isis, which apparently has changed its name to IS, is causing death and utter destruction in the region and Yes-We-Can-Scam-The-People Obama talks about the collective as if they were a bunch of naughty school boys that have destroyed the White House´s  flower beds. While IS or whatever the fuck their name will be tomorrow, has explicitly stated that they want to create an Islamic state in the Levant, which includes the state of Israel, the state of Israel, normally very vocal when it claims to be under attack, has been awfully and suspiciously quiet about the matter. Now, a couple of weeks ago a video was released in which an IS fighter with a British accent brutally murders an American journalist, who had been taken hostage, and all of the sudden the UK and US governments talk of a threat to national security. Why and how is not clear, but Prime Minister Cameron comes back from holiday- something he failed to do when London Town suffered from riots for several days  in the summer  of 2012- and apparently both US and UK governments are working hard to uncover the identity of this fighter, how is entirely unclear. Muslim kids from Western countries have been fighting in conflict areas with muslim populations for decades (Bosnia, Chechnya, Afghanistan, Iraq,) and this is all old news to MI5, MI6 and other security services. Yet, the scaremongering has begun and now we all have to be terribly scared of a terrorist attack, because there is a video of a guy with a British accent killing an American citizen. And now very recently it seems a second ‘IS beheading video’ has been released. Why are the frauds called the US and UK governments not at all interested in who is so very generously funding the beast called IS and remove this so-called terror threat in that way? Incompetence? Really?

top image: denfogeek.com

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The Prodigy, The Maltese Audience and How Not to Party

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silly-seasonThey call it the silly season or cucumber time in Lowlands Country Language. Apparently this time of year there is little news worth reporting, which is obviously bollocks. There is always something going on. It´s just that the boys and girls who produce the news are on holiday or can just be less bothered with the more serious stuff and a lot of serious stuff is going on. The papers and other newsoutles are bulging of all the ‘serious news’, but as they say it´s silly season, so  let´s first focus on some more trivial matters.

This is my first full summer on the Rock and I´m absolutely loving it. The heat has been most bearable and with all the action going on, boat party here, beach gathering there, life is just one big, fat, chilled holiday. A former colleague of mine from London Town commented on a pic of the Dark Fairy having a serious boogie on a boat posted on Fayz Boek saying that I make life seem tough, much to my amusement. And that is exactly that. Fish might be jumping, the cotton ain´t high, cause there ain´t growing any, but it is summer time and the livin´ is easy for sure. In this summer time I am engaging in some culture, both high and low and I have to express my bemusement with the Maltese concert crowd as in my opinion it´s a rather tame bunch.

As I’ve lived in several countries other than the one I was born and raised in, I have had the experience of expats- that´s just migrants with white skin and/ or from  wealthy countries- whining about the locals. They might be bigging up their expat lifestyle to the folks back home, in their country of residence whining about the locals- or just whining in general- seems a much beloved past-time for many a foreigner. After my experiences at the African Med, living on the Rock is a walk in the park and I refrain from whining as life is a ball and there are groovy and ungroovy people all over the world. But when I went to a few concerts within the space of few weeks I´m seriously wondering what it is about Maltese concert- crowd behaviour. Let me explain.

I did some high culture and went to a contemporary classical concert as part of Malta Arts Festival, which took place in a fancy hotel in Floriana. The piece the resistance of the evening was, what is called a video opera composed by fellow Dutchie Michel van der Aa, who I used to worked with in my previous life as a thespian, titled Up-close. The work was a combination of and interaction with a story told by means of video and a piece of contemporary classical music for strings with a charismatic solo cellist. The piece wasn´t terribly accessible, but it sure struck a chord with me and with the friend I was with and we both loved it. The applause from the crowd afterwards was terribly tame in my opinion and I was wondering if it was just a form of subdued appreciation or a lack of interest, engagement or understanding.

Then I few days ago I went to a concert headlined by the London geezers of the Prodigy. Very few groovy acts make it to the Rock – too small I guess- so I jumped at the chance and got myself a ticket. Going through almost 4 hours of warm-up acts of varying quality – one in particular was utterly shite- the big beat boys finally hit the stage at a quarter to one. The crowd made some noise, but not one I expected it to produce after a wait of that many hours. The geezers played a short and explosive set delivering to expectations. When they left the stage, only a few pockets of people shouted for an encore as the majority of the audience remained rather quiet and seemed ready to call it a night. Thank funk the boys were keen enough for some more noise as the crowd didn´t seem terribly demanding and after another 15 minutes that was it. After the concert some DJs played in a different area only catching a fraction of the crowd as the vast majority of people were heading for the exit. The DJ were of average quality, but I still enjoyed a boogie.

I´m- still- aware that I have been rather spoilt in my cosmopolitan bubble that is the City of Cities and that when it comes to culture pretty much everything is available in great quantity and quality. And when it´s good, on most occasions people do show their appreciation in what I consider appropriate measures. Now, I have been to a few good parties here on the Rock, mostly reggae, dub and trance parties that tend to attract some sort of a fringe crowd that know how to party. But seemingly when stuff becomes more mainstream  the tameness sets in. These events do attract a fair amount of foreigners as more expats – the migrants who can afford bollocks like this- are settling on the island and tourists fancy some culture too, but the majority of the audience is still Maltese. Many of them dress up for the occasion. In my opinion sometimes rather overdressed and in the case of the Prodigy concert rather impractical too – I mean, 10-inch stiletto heels (approximation, didn´t measure them) and pretty yet rather short dress kind of tells me that one comes to display one´s wares rather than to groove to a good tune, but each their own. Yet, the point being one does make a do out of the occasion. I´m just wondering whether the tame response is just culture, indifference or just ´not getting how it works´. I´ve only had a few experiences with crowd-vibes in this country, but if I can draw my conclusions from those experiences, I´m not that surprised the groovy acts don´t visit Malta. If all the crowd can do is look nice, but give me a luke warm reception to my art or entertainment, I don´t think I would be bothered to touch down and entertain the underwhelmed masses either.

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Going for the Edge

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11710302-young-girl-sitting-on-an-edge-of-a-cliffA bit over a week ago I celebrated my birthday in the presence of my dear sister and two good mates from Lowlands Country. My birthday and the weekend that followed was graced with lovely weather and I have been able to wear my flip flops, which was fabulously brilliant. I’ve entered a new decade, which feels both weird and promising. Weird because in a few years time I will be middle-aged, which totally smells of old people and that can’t possibly be me as I remain to be a five-year-old at heart. It’s also promising, because I appreciate the experiences I’ve had and the ‘wisdom’ I’ve gained throughout the decades and the happening that is called life just seems a far more chilled affair compared to only 10 years or so ago.

To pay tribute to my inner five-year-old, who just wants to learn and discover new things, I recently started taking driving lessons. Before my first lessons I’d never been behind a wheel in my life. Since everyone and his dog seems to know how to drive some assumed I don’t have my driving licence out of principle, that I am against motorised vehicles or something, which wouldn’t be terribly practical. I never learnt how to drive previously, because I never saw the need for it and always found it rather expensive. As the public transport network in Malta is not as extensive and reliable as in London Town and cycling is just not an option, at least not for me, and the cost of driving lessons here in Malta is a bloody laugh compared to UK prices, I’m totally giving it a go.

Despite a celebratory weekend last week and several outings during the week I had a strong urge to leave the house and leave my ‘hood’. So I took the ferry across the water to Valletta to feed myself some culture. Valletta is the very small, very pretty and rather hilly capital of the island state fuelled with history and culture. If one ‘doesn’t do culture’ there is sufficient opportunity for shopping and wining and dining. Yet, apparently it’s not the place to be for a raving night out.

After having a little wander I went to Teatru Manoel, which is the third oldest theatre in Europe with a little museum attached to it. The exhibition is small and very well set-up and the audio guide that is included in the ticket price is highly informative. For the next course on the culture menu I walked to the National Museum of Archeology, which is housed in an impressive building in one of Valletta’s main shopping street. Although there are many impressive archeological findings as Malta has been inhabited since the 6th millenium BCE, I was rather underwhelmed by the exhibition. Especially the exhibition on the ground floor seemed dusty, unimaginative and tame. And tameness has founds its place in my regard towards Malta. I’ve been here for a few months now and although there is still an awful lot for me to discover, the newness of the Malta move has worn off. It’s also winter and despite enjoyable winter sunshine there is far less action to be had. Despite having entered a new decade and appreciating the chilledness in life I am, and hopefully never will be, ready for tameness.

This Rock has everything going for it. Besides the exotic aridness, it has the sea, it’s bursting with history, there is plenty of stuff to do like diving, sailing, rock climbing or going on jeep safari and the place is uniquely both provincial as well as very international. And yet, I miss the edge. The edge that says ‘underbelly’, that says innovation, wackiness and differentness. The edge that says unconventionalism and excitement. I’ve come across a fair amount of people who are geeks and unconventionals in their own right. Yet, they seem entities of their own on a Rock of tameness.

As I’m entering a new decade and continue to be the curious, five-years-old-at-heart wanna-be wonder woman of the world aiming to advance in that self-realisation project called life, I am going for the edge. As middle-groundness and moderation might be wise, extremities are more interesting. Ruggedness or sharpness might be less pretty or even painful, it might also be more rewarding if we see and get through it.  If something doesn’t seem visible, that doesn’t mean it is not there. So while continuing to let my curious inner five year old reign free, I’m going for the edge. And if that edge is indeed too polished for my liking, I can always roughen things up. I think five-year olds have no problems with that either.

Teatru Manoel

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The Island in One’s Mind

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island2When I left London Town to settle on the Rock I moved from one island to another. From one that used to rule half the world to another much smaller one that used to be ruled by half the world. The weather and the quality of life might be a lot better on that smaller island, however, both pieces of land suffer from island mentality at different stages of severity, despite both countries being exposed to plenty of foreigners.

As former British colonies gained independence and initially all citizens of those lands were free to enter, live and work in Britain, the country has experienced a steady stream of migrants from all over the world. As Britain and its capital developed in the post-colonial era and the English language had become the lingua franca since the Second World War, not only people from former colonies flocked to the British Isles. Despite these foreign influences the UK still suffers from island mentality: calling continental Europe ´Europe´ as if the country weren’t part of it, but a continent on its own, having been a reluctant member of the EU since it joined the Union´s predecessor the EEC in 1973 and just wanting to do things differently believing it is still a superior force in the world.

 Malta has been ruled by several foreign powers including the British. Many Maltese almost seem proud to have been colonised by British folk, which I find, having parents from post-colonial states, rather peculiar. Despite a history of foreign rule, an influx of tourists from all corners of the globe and the presence of a considerable amount of migrants and foreign workers, quite a few of the natives suffer from proper island mentality. I guess they can´t help it. Although the place is small many people who were born and raised in a certain locality tend to stay there for the rest of their life. Dark Fairies are still considered rather exotic, attitudes are conservative to some- divorce got legalised only a few years ago and abortion is illegal- and provinciality is almost an art form.

 Island living can give you island fever and I was warned of this condition before moving to the Rock. I have submitted myself to something I called a hermit month, in which I don’t go out to increase focus and save some funds. So, without exploring the island further, engaging in few to no social events, my world has become particularly small as I work, live, do my shopping and go the gym within an area of less than 200m² (no joke). As my hermit month is coming to an end and I am in desperate need of some exploration, which will be happening throughout party month December, I’ve come to think that island mentality and island fever is not necessarily determined by place, but is mostly in the mind.

When I lived in that most vibrant City of Cities I suffered from the same phenomenon. London might not be an island, but it is a cosmopolitan bubble. London is not England or Great Britain, it’s an entity of its own, where its residents suffer from its own superiority complex and many don’t venture out to the peripheries. In the cosmopolitan bubble of London  there is also this urge to escape all the metropolitan action now and again.

 Island mentality might keep you safe, but often this is a false safety, which can lead to island fever. To the Dark Fairy life is about exploration and although one might have the need to retreat to an island of one´s own, I sure need to come off it, if only once in a while. Not only to keep my sense of sanity and fun, but also to keep exploring. The essence of progression and innovation is discovering and learning new things. So bollocks to island fever in the name of new Dark Fairy Adventures and let the exploration continue.

The Rock’s Rain and the Silver Brigade

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rain in MaltaWhere I’m from – Lowlands Country- and where I lived a considerable amount of my adult life – London- it rains a lot, hence these regions are green and lush. I think that’s why I’m particularly fond of arid land, ´cause it’s so different from what I’m used to. The Dutch Caribbean Island where my mum is from is a dramatically dry piece of land. So is most of Egypt, which includes my beloved arid and dramatic Sinai.

After a couple of years of challenging meteorological circumstances in the UK – insane wetness and a seven-month-long winter- I’m now residing in a place with for me ideal weather conditions (although I still have to experience the Maltese winter and the heat at the height of summer). The sun is out most times of the year and rain is a far more special occurrence. The downside of that is, that this island-state is relatively dusty and when it does rain, it tends to do so in a rather dramatic way: Rain often means proper downpours with windiness, thunder and lighting and if the heavens really go mental the lower parts of the island tend to flood. No half measures here. No drizzles that last all day, if not all week and make one´s surrounding a rather grey affair. No, no, no, no, no. Rain throws a tantrum and when it’s done, it’ll be sunny again as if nothing dramatic has happened. It seems to rain more in the winter months. I am to find out how wet it actually gets, but if a few months a year reserved for wetness means that it stays dry for the rest of the year, it’s all fine by me.

The absence of rain seems to be compensated by an increased presence of older people (no diss towards rain or the elderly intended). Malta has always been known as some sort of retiree paradise for especially British folk, but the iGaming sector, due to corporate benefits a rather active industry on this Rock, has attracted a younger and more international crowd. However, wandering the streets of my locality I see far more elderly people on the streets, Maltese and foreigners a like, than I would see in London or Lowlands Country. A quick check of this Rock’s demographics doesn’t reveal a bigger elderly population than in any other European country. So what does this mean?

This could mean that:

It´s just my locality that has a higher proportion of elderly people that is out and about, as this area was and perhaps still is traditionally associated with expats and the Maltese upper classes. The elderly within these segments of society have more means to frolic about and make themselves visible.

Or: Maltese society is more family orientated and less individualistic, therefor the elderly are included more in family activity which, due to the climate is mostly taking place outdoors.

Or the climate in general makes people want to play outside more, the elderly included. Or, a variation of this, due to the climate people, the elderly included, want to see and be seen and that´s not going to happen when one hides in doors.

I’m all for inclusion and seeing how the elderly milk the joys of life in pleasant weather conditions could be an inspiration for how life could be in a few decades time. However, I want to take Dark Fairy funkiness into my middle ages and beyond. And although the elderly are out and about seemingly happy and healthy, old age in Malta still seems to be a rather dusty affair. It might take a bunch of funksters of all ages to bring the funk into the concept of old age on this island. The Rock would be so worth it.

top images: Times of Malta