There were food stalls, and entertainers on stage, and sports activities for the kiddies.

I guess only in Malta could the opening of a new hospital end up looking like a cross between a theme park and a museum as guided tours took people round in large groups (“and, on your left is the ITU where, God willing, you shall never end up”).

Strolling through the large foyer it also felt bizarrely similar to the airport’s departure lounge, what with a sprawling newsagent on one side and a cafe doing brisk business on the other as people munched away at pastizzi, sausage rolls and qassatat as if determined to boost up their cholesterol levels so that they could be the first to experience the hospital’s facilities.

Outside, the children were having a great time running around, jumping on trampolines and trying out the gym equipment that was set up to encourage a more active lifestyle. The adults (many of them overweight, pot-bellied and munching on hobz biz-zejt) were less enthusiastic, preferring to glare at the treadmills, and occasionally taking a stab at hopping onto a machine in their unsuitable flip-flops and sandals.

As hospitals go, yes, Mater Dei is very impressive. Straight out of Grey’s Anatomy, in fact.

But then, after 17 long years and at a final cost to the taxpayer of Lm250 million, it bloody well should be. It is, in fact, what I expected it to be, and the kind of hospital I feel we deserve as a nation in the year 2007. About time too.

(Of course, there is always the little matter of whether it really needed to cost so much… just another example of how this country swings crazily from penny-pinching to unnecessary extravagance. Like a man in the grips of a mid-life crisis who needs to over-compensate for his shortcomings by buying himself a ridiculously expensive Ferrari, when it comes to doing things on a national scale, we go overboard. As we like to say among ourselves, “naraw kbir”).

You see, the problem I have with all the pomp and circumstance that surrounded the opening of Mater Dei is that, just because it has met and even exceeded people’s expectations, it doesn’t mean we should be grovelling at the feet of the government in pathetic gratitude. It’s that Third World country attitude all over again.

Instead of feeling all warm and fuzzy because we’ve been rewarded for being good little citizens by being “given” a decent, immaculate hospital, we should be pissed off for putting up with a decaying, decrepit hospital for so long.

St Luke’s ended up becoming the antithesis of what a hospital should be because it was left to rot for too many years. Its very appearance is grubby, unhygienic and generally depressing. Even if you’re not ill, when you walk through its doors, you feel sick just walking down the corridors. So, anything by comparison is going to look better. The silly vox pops I heard on the news and other programmes asking the public whether Mater Dei is better than St Luke’s were really irritating. Did they really expect people to say “Oh no, I just love the rusting metal bedside cabinets, inedible food and the fact that my elderly mother is in a bed in a corridor with no air-conditioning.”

The problems at St Luke’s have never been about the quality of health care provided, nor the dedication of nurses and doctors, but about the general air of neglect that is like a thick cloud hovering over the whole place.

During these last, grindingly slow, 17 years, as Mater Dei’s construction hiccupped along in fits and starts, couldn’t anyone have found some spare cash to give St Luke’s a fresh coat of paint, some new furniture and bright curtains? Even these few cosmetic changes would have made a difference to staff and patients.

All these thoughts were going through my mind as we marched behind our tour guide, the women with prams in front, as if in some kind of zany race to see who could get their first. (“Slow down, the hospital isn’t going anywhere,” one security guard joked.)

Official-looking men wearing headsets were directing the entire operation to ensure there were no human traffic jams (“we have a situation in Radiology, let’s keep it moving. Gsssh, do you read? Gsssh, Roger, over and out.”)

As I half-listened to the guide droning on about blood samples whizzing through chutes, repeating his spiel for what must have been the millionth time that day, it occurred to me that for the thousands of men, women and children who showed up to tour the hospital this was their weekend outing (“il-harga”). Kind of like the Trade Fair, but with CT scans and angioplasty equipment instead of sofas and kitchens.

The same thing happened when Malta International Airport was opened – everyone rushed to see it, because it gave them something to do. (Which just makes us even more sad as a nation – I mean, really, are we that bored with driving around from one end of this tiny island to the other that we treat the opening of a new important building as if it were a visit to Disneyland?)

Sure, sure, I was there touring Mater Dei, too – buy hey, I have to do my research first-hand now don’t I? Plus, I wouldn’t have missed this latest attraction for the world. It was a fascinating study in human behaviour. The men, especially, walking around with their hands behind their backs, scrutinising every angle for all the world as if they were health and safety inspectors. One guy even knocked on the countertop in one department to check what kind of wood was used. With a nod of satisfaction he walked on, seemingly pleased with what he had learned… (I was dying to ask him: plywood, post form, what, what?!)

Others were videotaping everything, presumably to send a copy to Giljan il-kugin in Australia.

Yes, it’s true. The Maltese public really did turn out in droves to see how all their tax money has been spent and – from what I could see – everyone seemed pleased. Swelling with pride, even. The comment I heard most was, “let’s hope it will be maintained in this pristine condition”. (Although the hygienic factor of thousands of feet traipsing through it all at one go is debatable).

But now that the euphoria has died down, and we drum our fingers waiting for it to really open, the same refrain keeps cropping up with everyone I speak to: no way will it be possible for any government to sustain this mother of all hospitals and ensure that our health service keeps on being provided for free.