George Cini’s second book on the notorious Strait Street goes deeper into the nitty gritty details of former nightlife hotspot in Valletta, infamous for its stories of drinking, debauchery and bar fights. He describes his second work on the subject, however, as an oral history of the area, which gives an insight into the everyday lives of the Maltese who worked behind and in front of the bars, the musicians, the tattooists, the shop owners and the public health inspectors who have an intimate connection with Strada Stretta. Neil Camileri writes.

“A couple of years ago I was delivering a speech on my first book when this 90-year-old woman came up to me and said that I should have entitled my work ‘Survivors.’ She was right, because everyone mentioned in the books is a sort of working class hero. These are people who started from nothing but used their imagination and ended up running thriving businesses,” says George Cini, author of Strada Stretta – Iktar dawk fuq it-triq li darba xeghlet il-Belt (More light on the street that once lit up Valletta).

With his first book completely sold out, even after three other printing runs, Mr Cini decided on a second publication. The book goes into more detail on the men and women who entertained the throngs of British and American servicemen, the talented musicians that played in Strada Stretta’s bars and the general way of life and thinking of the many businesspeople who made a fortune – and blew it – in its drinking holes and shops of all kind.

“History books and newspapers from the time give you a general idea of what Strada Stretta was all about. But I wanted to research Strada Stretta’s oral history – the tales that only those who lived and toiled there can tell you.”

Mr Cini recalls how, some years back he went down to Strait Street in search stories. “When I began speaking to the people who worked and lived in Strada Stretta I realised that theirs was the oral history I was longing for. These were not just interviews … they were confessions. They were so frank about their personal lives that I felt that somethings had to be left out of the book, out of respect for them and their relatives.”

Strata Stretta Ink

One of the countless people he interviewed was a tattooist Tony Psaila, known as ‘Zalzettu.’ “He told me about how they would smuggle tattooing ink because it was illegal to import it. They were very creative in their own way. Their needles were made out of old doorbells.”

The book features a catalogue of tattoos from his shop. Most of them are simple – not like today’s elaborate inkings – bearing the name of a loved one, a ship or simply ‘Mum.’

Tattoo shops were not regulated and most operated behind closed doors. But the police usually turned a blind eye.

This was also the case on gambling and card games. The organisers admit that they used to bribe the police. In one case a card dealer would pretend to be giving an officer a box of matches to light a cigarette but there would be money hidden inside. “It was a case of scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours.”

Birthplace of musical talent

Many of Malta’s most renowned musicians are also heavily featured in the book. The reason is that they started their careers as children entertaining the crowds in Strada Stretta’s various bars. “The best musicians, like Vinny Vella Sr, Oscar Lucas, Frank ‘il-Bibi’ Camilleri and Joe Fiteni all learned how to play down there. They told me they used to rehearse on the job.”

Musicians made good money, Mr Cini says. “In 1958 Vinny used to earn ‎£1.50 a week as band leader and the band members earned ‎£1. But they always made some ‎£10 each in tips, every week. This was a time when the weekly wage was hardly a pound.”

Women from all over the island were also attracted to Strada Stretta by the promise of good money. “Young women had no opportunities and would often run away from home. Those who had some business sense went to work in Strait Street. They came from all over the island. A woman would earn ‎£1.50 a week working as a maid, whereas they could earn ‎£20 to ‎£30 every day working as barmaids. I am speaking about barmaids, not prostitutes.”

Barmaids made a fortune

Mr Cini explains how barmaids had two choices – they could either work for a salary or choose a commissions-based system. The better salesgirls chose the latter. “They would encourage sailors and soldiers to buy them drinks. They knew how to handle themselves, acting drunk when they were in fact drinking coloured water. The waiter would give them a tin token for every drink the patrons bought them and these were exchanged for money at the end of their shift. Some women told me it was not unusual for them to earn ‎£50 or even ‎£70 in a night. That was a ridiculous amount of money at the time.”

The job was not limited to women. Some men would also dress up as women. These included characters known as ‘il-Bobbie,’ ‘Johnny il-Golliwog,’ and ‘Guzi tal-Cairo.’ Apart from working the bars, transvestites would sing and dance, and some even worked as escorts.

The author says there was good reason for Strada Stretta to boom. “The British had been in Malta since the early 1800s and always had a garrison here, apart from the constant flow of ships. Wars always brought prosperity to Malta and the Maltese became used to this. In fact, many believed that this good run would never end.”

Getting around the rules

Another character mentioned in Mr Cini’s book is ‘il-Lubjana’ who acted as a sort of go-between with the courts whenever people got in trouble with the law. “At some point it was made illegal to employ underage girls and boys in the bars. Whenever a bar owner was caught breaking the law they went to il-Lubjana, who would advise them on whether they should admit to the crime or not. In many cases the punishment was a fine and a closure of the bar for a number of days. Il-Lubjana would ask the Magistrates (on the bar owners’ behalf) to inflict the punishment during times when business was slow.”

The man was also known for fixing marriages of convenience between poor Eastern European singers and local men, sparing them deportation.

Another interesting part of the book shows the administration aspect behind Strada Stretta. It includes permits issued by the authorities for the opening of bars and the sale of alcohol. Mr Cini obtained such documents from the National Archives. There are also court records which show, for example, how a man was sentenced two years hard labour for stealing a silver watch and some silk handkerchiefs form a woman of ill-repute.

Syphilis and gonorrhoea

A detailed interview with a former public health inspector (tas-sanita`) gives new insight into how the authorities acted to control sexually transmitted infections. “Both the Knights and the British tried to regulate prostitution. In fact, while loitering is illegal prostitution is not. The British knew that prostitution had its uses, especially in the case of sailors and soldiers who had been away from home for months on end.”

Whenever a serviceman came down with an STI a report was lodged with the military medical officer who, in turn, contacted the Maltese authorities. These would track down the ‘offending’ woman and order her to undergo a blood test and the necessary medical care. “Most of them went for the test because they had a reputation to protect and gossip spread fast. When the women were given the all-clear they were given a sort of medal which showed that they were once again safe for clients.”

The former inspector also recounts the peculiar case of a man who was reportedly living in a rat-infested apartment. “People reported that he lived with these rats and would play them the flute. After several unsuccessful attempts the inspectors barged into the apartment to find it swarming with rats. The man had to move out. I don’t know if he was playing the flute when the door was kicked in,” Mr Cini jokes.

Ir-Rufjan

There are two recorded murders of prostitutes in Strada Stretta’s history, Mary ‘is-Sewda,’ and Irene Johnson. The two murders took place in Strada Fontana – one of only two streets where prostitution was allowed - but prostitutes used to loiter in Strada Stretta, where it was illegal.  

“These women enjoyed very good business because there was always a steady stream of clients. To put you in the picture some 1,000 soldiers were billeted at Fort St Elmo, not to mention the sailors and airmen.

These women needed protection, both from the law and violent clients. That is where the Ruffjan came in. Ruffjani were usually tough, burly men who were asked by these courtesans to stay on the lookout outside their apartments while the ‘deed’ was done. They did this for two purposes, to warn if the police were coming, and to protect the women if they took too long, which could signal that the woman was in trouble.”

‘It was like Notte Bianca every night’

Having been born and raised in Valletta, Mr Cini clearly remembers the atmosphere in Strada Stretta. “It used to be jam packed, just like Valletta is packed on Notte Bianca. There could be as many as 10,000 British and American sailors on leave and Strada Stretta was the place to go.”

Mr Cini’s grandmother would warn him to keep away from the area, which by then had a bit of a reputation. But things were not always like that. “In the earlier years it was not all about prostitution and drinking. It was an entertainment hub. People would go there for dinner and live music. There were some really good bands playing there. During later years, when Rock’n’Roll and miniskirts came in, Strada Stretta’s image suffered even further.”

An economic motor

“People working in Strada Stretta would earn amounts of money we can nowadays only imagine. The owners of one particular bar and restaurant, Cickos, would fill a navy duffel bag to the brim with money at closing time. Establishments also made a lot of money from catering as sailors would prefer sampling the Strada Stretta menu than the monotonous selection on board their ships.”

Mr Cini says Strait Street was a motor of the Maltese economy of the time. The services offered revolved around the demand of the forces – drinks, food, women, tattoos, barbers. In turn, these created a demand on other products and services. Shops in Strait Street, for example, relied heavily on nearby bakeries, confectioners, markets and vegetable sellers.

“There are a number of related stories in the book. One is about a ginger bearded sailor – described as resembling a face on one of the old Players cigarette cartons – who went into this shop for a trim of the beard. The person who served him had no idea how to trim a beard but gave it a try nonetheless. The end result was, to say the least, not satisfactory for the client. The wannabe barber was spared a good beating only because his boss came in just in time and managed to fix the mess.”

Mr Cini refers to another story, from older days, about how flour used to go missing from a nearby bakery run by the Knights. It was presumed that the slaves who worked there were stealing the flour to pay for sex.

“The Maltese were very clever. They even accepted navy uniforms and food smuggled from ships in return for drinks. They then sold the products for a hefty profit. Some would make a killing by selling the gaxin (leftovers) they bought from navy ships. Remember, this was a time of great poverty.”

Strada Stretta’s popularity began waning with the British rundown in the 70s and closed completely in the early 80s. It did, however, serve a very important purpose. “It was the precursor to the tourism industry in Malta. When hotels started sprouting up in the 60s, many of their staff were people who had worked and learned on the job in Strait Street. It was their school, so to speak. Hotels needed cooks, waiters and musicians – and Strada Stretta had produced all of these.”

An everlasting fascination

Mr Cini says he would probably not write a third book. “The reason is that I would want to interview the people who worked there, not their relatives. But many of them are now dead.”

He seems to be doubtful about whether Strait Street could experience a full revival. “Even if six cruise liners come into port simultaneously, not all the passengers would go to that area. Father Peter Serracino Inglott had suggested that it would not work unless there was a steady stream of tourists coming in. In fact he had suggested setting up a harbour-area tour ending in Strada Stretta.”

Then again he feels that many people are still fascinated by the area. “If you go down there nowadays, even though the street is empty, you can feel that something great had happened here. Something which is just not there anymore.”