Not if, as has been reported, the brief (is that the correct word?) is already in Piano’s office. Once the contract is signed, payments will have to be made so plans have to be presented. So, I figure out that if they plan to kick start the project this year, this should have been in this year’s budget.

I worked in Valletta for a couple of years, and I found my daily walks (mostly through Republic Street) utterly depressing, especially as I increased my travels and saw the way other cities were kept and the appropriateness of the popular attire. Qed nghidlek, tiehu nifs u ghajnejk jiehdu gost immens.

Why depressing? Firstly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a shabby and ugly city entrance or a main street frequented by such a collection of loud, repulsive, bad-mannered, oddly-shaped, coarse people; secondly, I’ve rarely come across a city with so much potential; thirdly, both arguments have been made a number of times, and little has been done about it.

It isn’t about Prada or Gucci, really. It’s about what pleases the eyes and gives the town a smart overall look and feel. Do you at least agree that we could do away with the many retired men plonked around on doorsteps or on the opera house remains, with radios blasting out Eileen Montesin’s opinion (which, incidentally, we can also do away with? Does nobody see the scenic hopelessness of our white taxi drivers, sporting exposed bellies of heroic proportions and the quintessential qrun, with the occasional “tuksi plijz, yess mudam”? Am I alone in wondering how on earth certain clothing items are allowed into the country, never mind worn by people who are so badly assembled?…

…and you know what? I really don’t think that I’m exaggerating.

However, Daph, I’m sure these scenes exist abroad too – I’m more than sure; I’ve seen them. It’s not really about what is appropriate, but about what appropriate is; and that’s a question of taste, which can never really be solved. Can it?

In larger countries there is the geographical possibility of having certain towns and cities command certain behaviour, whilst having others predisposed to a predominance of pink track-suits, bleached hair and chewing gum popping. In England, you have the choice (even if, admittedly, with certain limitations) to live, shop or run essential errands in Luton or in Cambridge; in France, between Beziers and Paris. In Malta (apart from Hamrun which is in a league of its own) we have only one main town where different people come together.

In reality, though, you cannot really deny people their preferences. Thankfully, we’re entitled to complain about it.

[Daphne – Nicosia is like that. It’s awful.]

As far as I know the budget is for 2009. Do you believe that we are going to pay for this project in 2009? It will be in the budget for the year when we start paying..simple!

[Daphne – Don’t be ridiculous, Gerald. Some of those grotesque outfits cost a month’s earnings. It’s not a matter of having no money, but of having no sense of what’s appropriate.]

The plebs we can deal with. The rasta-haired bead-sellers, on the other hand…

[Daphne – That’s where you’re wrong. There were absolutely no shell-suits (no one wears them anymore) and everyone was very smart and well-dressed.]

[Daphne – Yes, I read John’s letter, and I don’t share his views, though he is a friend and we read archaeology contemporaneously. Incidentally, you raise a point that I regret not having brought up in my article on the subject: in a small place like Malta, a museum of modern art and a cultural centre do not have to be in the capital city, but can be anywhere else. Indeed, they would be better positioned somewhere that people can park without paying.]