The Beauty of Dining Al Fresco. And the Pitfalls?

In this two-part article, Victor Calleja explores how Malta’s beloved al fresco dining culture, once a symbol of Mediterranean charm and relaxed living, is increasingly being challenged by overcrowding, overdevelopment and the unchecked takeover of public spaces.

Malta might not be the paradise we would like it to be. But it does tick a number of boxes which give it a good ranking in the world’s desirable places.

The weather, the Mediterranean feeling of comfort and easy living, are a definite plus. And these make it ideal to dine, or to have a leisurely coffee, al fresco. Most of the year, except for a short time when our mild winters turn wet, wild and windy, we can enjoy lounging outdoors, sipping our drinks, eating our fill, discussing anything under the sun (or moon and stars).

Watching the world go by, listening to the sea lapping the shore, feeling the breezes or the sun, while we sit glorying in food, is close enough to idyllic. Or should be at least. But is this always the case?

Have we been so over-zealous at enjoying our outdoor world, that we have ruined it? Will success, rampant as it seems today, be our own failure? Or, if not a failure, will it – or has it already – change from a golden opportunity to a barely desirable one?

Sliema, Gżira, Mellieha, Marsalforn, Marsaxlokk, Rabat (Gozo), and most towns and villages, have seen a huge escalation in restaurants, cafés and kiosks encroaching on public land and filling it with chairs, tables, and anything necessary for outdoor dining and drinking.

Valletta, that city of cities, a city which when built 460 years ago had planning and design as its major attribute, has now been transformed into what looks like a huge dining area, a food court of sorts. A place of noise, mayhem and beautiful surroundings over-run by throngs and harem-style tents.

Mass tourism, that boon of our modern times, has gone from an attribute to a scourge, with over-tourism suffered on a worldwide scale. The problem over-crowding creates, especially in a small country like ours, cannot be overcome too easily.

Besides tourists, the locals, Maltese and not, nowadays go out more, dine out more at all available outlets. They, locals, tourists, and people living permanently on the island, cannot be deprived of the wonderful experience of being al fresco.

Beyond the numbers of tourists we host, beyond the figures that keep our economy ticking, beyond the efforts the authorities make to make our tourism more sustainable, isn’t it, however, time for a radical overview of our food and drink offering? Or at least of the space establishments are given, or in some obvious cases of the areas taken over illegally?

Isn’t it time for a rethink? Isn’t it time for some introspection and re-evaluation of what we are offering, especially outside on our streets, our promenades, our pavements and our squares?

There was a time, long decades ago, when the authorities – these sometimes damnable, unknowable people who rule by decree or pettiness – decided that Malta could do without al fresco wining and dining. Hardly any permits were issued; the few places licensed to operate outside their establishments were bound to abide by strict rules. Valletta, and even Sliema and the rest of the country, had scant outside seating.

It seemed odd. A country enjoying such mild weather, a country whose people loved – and needed – to stay outdoors, linger and enjoy the atmosphere en plein air, needed more spaces to enjoy the piazzas, the nooks outside restaurants and cafés.

Even our forefathers spent many an hour sitting outside their own porches, on their doorstep, eating, drinking and chatting with neighbours, family, friends, or passersby.

It was bizarre to not have, or hardly have, outside seating for cafés and restaurants. But that was back then. Then it all changed. The floodgates were opened and in no time it became a jungle of people filling every available space.

From barely anything to anything goes. In this we sure prove the Maltese adage right: jew nejja jew maħruqa (it’s either under-done or burnt to a cinder).

Nowadays, in certain areas, it is hardly possible to walk; you need to navigate, skip, jump, hop to escape the obstacles. The chairs, the feet, the tables, the umbrellas, the tents, the waiting staff, the musical instruments, the speakers blasting out ear-piercing sound levels, the garbage bins, the advertising boards: it’s a never-ending flow of hurdles to avoid. It’s like an interminable obstacle race, and god help you if trying to manoeuvre a pushchair or a wheelchair.

As always, not a modicum of planning was carried out. As usual, a good thing was subverted to become a nuisance or worse. The goose was strangled or is being strangled. Al fresco entertainment is all about enjoying life, enjoying peace, or at least enjoying some tolerable noise, certainly not a decibel-deafening atmosphere.

But, many say, it’s successful: people spend loads of money enjoying what is on offer. So why change? Why turn back the clock to a time of less outdoor living if the living is good?

The ideal is obviously not to ban all outside entertainment but to regulate it: regulate and enforce the rules. Make it a joy to walk around the streets where there is dining – or whatever – al fresco. Where small patches are used for entertainment and the rest is preserved to admire and enjoy.

Everything done in excess, everything left to pure chance with no guidance and no proper rules, turns ugly in the long term. We have something beautiful, something enjoyable, let’s preserve it, let’s keep it wonderful.

In the next issue we speak to people in the trade, to organisations involved in the hospitality world. What do you think about this issue? Send in your ideas and thoughts on vc@victorcalleja.com