Although a gripe-free life sounds perfect, we all love a good grumble. In the real world, as we talk through what’s bothering us, a grumble helps us release built-up frustration. If everyone can relate to an issue as a shared point of reference, then we feel in the thick of the community, and that’s good for the soul.
Grumble number one in Malta is undoubtedly the construction industry, the metal clang, the stubborn drumbeat of hammering, the reversing beeps, a crunch and a crash, and Oh! The dust!
Following closely behind is the traffic. Closely behind indeed, and at a crawl, because wherever you’re going and at whatever time of day, you’ll be watching the brake-lights, somebody will have parked inconveniently at the side of the road, and you’ll be diverted. (Sadly, not in the ‘Oh! What fun!’ sense of the word).
In the grand array of possible solutions to Malta’s traffic congestion — from an underground or tram system to self-driving hover cars — one humble hero has been unjustly overlooked: the parasol. Yes, you read that right. That elegant dainty umbrella-for-sunshine accessory often associated with Victorian garden parties and chic beachgoers may just hold the key to untangling the roads in St Julian’s and St Paul’s Bay!
Last year I read an article in Times of Malta in which a student, despite living in Lija, relatively close to the university, and travelling by car, described having to leave home before 6.30am in order to guarantee being at his 8am lectures on time.
Now, I’m making assumptions here, that our student lives in the centre of the village and that he is heading to the Msida campus. If this is the case, then, according to Google, the distance he needs to travel is only 3.2km. This would take less than an hour to walk (on paper – not neccessarily on these specific roads) which would save our protagonist considerable time and angst. It would remove one car from the traffic jam and the car park that day. It would be better environmentally and would serve their health better. Besides, who wouldn’t want that hallowed 10,000 step-count under their belt before their morning croissant?
Another story in the news, and one that really caught my eye this week, was Jo Etienne Abela’s piece on obesity. Malta has the dubious honour of topping the ‘Plump’ league of Europe. This is perhaps no surprise given that the pizza and ice-cream in Malta are the best in the world (whatever the Italians say) but there are considerable individual and societal health issues as a result. And the answer, apart from cutting down on our conspicuous consumption, lies partly in being more physically active.
As the summer approaches and the raging heat settles in, being bumper-to-bumper in the A/C may seem preferable to padding along pavements and sweating it out on the raggedy roadside.
Step up the humble parasol, like the Għonella, its purpose to provide portable dignified shade from the direct sun and to protect the skin from UV rays. The history of the parasol can be traced back to China, where, made of silk and bamboo, they were used as early as 2000 BCE. In ancient civilizations such as Egypt, Greece, and Rome, parasols were used as a symbol of royalty and nobility.
So, while an umbrella says ‘rain’ – and carrying one portends the miserable post-shower damp-bag syndrome – a parasol says ‘sunshine in style.’ It’s the ultimate fashion accessory: you don’t need to worry about your waistline as you coordinate your overhead canopy, bedecked (should you wish it) with ribbons and bibbons and loops and lace, with your bag and shoes. And while I don’t like to gender stereotype, to cater for every type of style and gender choice perhaps Charles and Ron could lead the way in parasols for the understated man about town and the flamboyant catwalk queen?
Alongside, let’s have an upgraded hands-free version, the Maltese Vietnamese bamboo hat. We’ve already adopted the rickshaw, after all.
Is it now time to reintroduce the parasol into popular usage, an eco-friendly, traffic-reducing slimming device for the twenty-first century? If the government was to provide one per person as part of a national strategy, it would surely be cheaper then more flyovers and fat-reducing interventions. We could even breathe fresh life into the traditional lace-making industry at the same time.
Let’s give it a whirl!
