The unhappy experience of the Arriva fiasco in the public transport sector completely shattered people’s trust. As passengers, they were promised comfort, efficiency and reliability. They got the bendy buses, chaos and mayhem. As citizens, they were assured the traffic flow would improve as more and more people leave their private cars in the garage and the roads and village streets would regain a sense of normality. They got the bendy buses, more chaos and even more mayhem.

It is a story so recent that we all have vivid memories of it and its consequences. The initial razzmatazz that cost many thousands of taxpayers’ money by way of releasing the Arriva magic hare among the excited public, with fireworks, more reassurances of “an end to the old system of tomfoolery” and a new, modern era for Maltese public transport, quickly turned into a national nightmare.

It was obvious the people involved, from the pompous minister and his officials down to their highly-paid consultants and other hangers-on, had simply botched the whole thing up. Rather than giving the public the transport system it so urgently screamed for, they gave it a desperate array of shambles that even destroyed the only two redeeming factors the old system at least had – the long-established network of routes that served people all over the Maltese Islands and the fact they all had Valletta as their focal point.

When you lose the public’s trust, it is not easy to regain it. The people involved in the fracas tried to patch things up but, again, got it all wrong. They first defended the purchase of Boris Johnson’s ill-fated bendy buses, then watched them catching fire, causing traffic pile-ups and congestions. They also urgently introduced some “new” routes, with Arriva quickly getting a bigger chunk of State subsidy.

Luckily for the country, there was a general election round the corner and the very people who penned and acted this public transport farce were shown out the backdoor. The new administration, however, still had to deal with the mushrooming crisis in public transport, or what was left of it after the Arriva debacle.

The rest of the story we all know. Joe Mizzi, the new minister in charge, inherited a chaos he had to turn into a semblance of order before the situation became worse. His decision to take the bendy buses off the streets and then sell them to somewhere in Africa was met with general acclaim and relief. Caught with their backs to the wall, Arriva soon had to call it a day. They had received huge millions in subsidies, and yet they had lost millions in the process – more economically confounding than that one could hardly expect to find.

The post-Arriva period has been marked by a slow return of the old, successfully-tried routes (most of which also have Valletta back as their point of destination/departure) and certainly a less hostile passenger public. But the lost trust still has to be won.

We have been told there are three companies vying for the public transport contract. Thirteen months on from the change of government, things have started looking up. This time I very much doubt there will be any fireworks to introduce the new service and, hopefully with one’s feet on the ground, no eccentric declarations of perfection. Winning back the public’s trust has to be the one and only way forward.

 

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River of ridicule

We seem to be getting this Italian obsession with referenda in which minorities, which have every right to exist, seem to want to impose their own values and beliefs on the majority. There is a paradoxical way of looking at it, however. While minorities need to be respected and treated fairly regardless of what the majority expects, minorities themselves need to respect and accept what a majority decides in a free and democratic general election. It is not an easy process, as the law of the majority is not always synonymous with democracy, liberty and equality.

Unlike some people, I honestly did not mind Brian May’s appeal to stop spring hunting. He’s entitled to his opinion and should be left free to say so even in front of an amused foreign crowd at a rock concert. I am an avid anti-monarchist and, quite obviously, once thought his rendition of an electric guitar version of “God Save the(ir) Queen” at some London commemoration as nothing but ridiculous. Jimi Hendrix had done it decades before with the US anthem, but, with the Vietnam War then still raging, it was more of a parody than anything else.

It is when this river of ridicule inundates us that it all becomes frustrating. The roots of fundamentalism grow deep and are not easy to destroy, especially in a minuscule country where so-called tradition and morality have, for centuries, been mixed and stirred with the everyday lives of free-thinking citizens. Not anymore, thank goodness. Malta has chosen to move belatedly into the 21st century where reality and a proper sense of belonging, whatever your views, looks and sexual orientation matter most.

It is the kind of society most of us have always pined for, having seen it, envied it and experienced it elsewhere. All those who disagree with it have to do is put it on an election manifesto, campaign for it and, if the nation votes for it, change it. For example, Opposition leader Simon Busuttil, who is credited with authoring two consecutive unsuccessful election manifestos, can just declare, in his party’s next one, he’d be undoing the civil union, transgender and other minority rights, including spring hunting, already achieved in this legislature.  

 

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Caroline’s 50th birthday

Back in 1964, when Malta was about to gain her “independence” from Britain, a huge change occurred in the world of broadcasting that had most of us teenagers at the time excited. Radio Caroline was born on a ship somewhere out in the North Sea and, incredibly, was playing non-stop music, with its DJs ad-libbing all day long.

Up until that time, people had the old, antiquated BBC light programme, imitated by all the national stations in the world, including our old Rediffusion cable system, which let off steam by playing pop music for a mere two hours on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon. Transistors were just in and Radio Caroline, together with that other old favourite, Radio Luxembourg, instantly became our declared mandatory listening.

Fifty years later, we have a situation where radio stations have multiplied and we are spoilt for choice. Not bad going. The only problem is the Maltese radio spectrum hardly offers anything different enough to be exciting. It is just a collection of the same old programmes by the same old presenters, the same old BBC relays, the same old rosary recitals, the same old clichés, the same old niche programmes in the poorest Maltese possible.

For us, the spirit of Caroline died at sea.

 

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Ah, yes...

Only last week, the British government quickly vowed to take “whatever steps necessary” after Spain, a fellow EU member, sent a research ship into Gibraltar’s waters. You see, the Gibraltarians had voted to stay “British” in a referendum, so the UK government is prepared to defend them and their decision.

Same goes for the Falklands/Malvinas, of course. But not for Crimea… that’s Russia and the goalposts can be moved.