To date this blog has been a celebration of Birgu: the importance of its history; the grandeur of its architecture; and the commitment of its people in maintaining its traditions. Today, however, feels less like a day for celebrating, as Birgu plays its part in the personal isolation and social distancing that have quickly become the norm since the corona-virus pandemic hit Malta.
I have just been for a walk. It’s not that I am breaking my own self-isolation – I’m determined to keep my distance from others. But if this situation lasts for any length of time then fresh air and exercise will become important parts of a healthy routine. Plus I suffer from asthma and some of my medication is running out, so I needed to visit the pharmacy. Now more than ever I need to make sure my breathing is as healthy as possible.
Through the entire length of my walk, the city’s response to the pandemic is evident. My own street, usually noisy with the conversations of neighbours, is silent and deserted. Even the main road into the city is empty: no groups of tourists on their whistle-stop tours, no locals nipping in and out of shops, not even conversations from one balcony to another.
Signs on different establishments tell more of the story. The Inquisitor’s Palace doorway informs potential visitors that all Heritage Malta sites are closed until further notice. One restaurant has a sign from over a week ago warning visitors from France, Germany, Switzerland and Spain that they may not enter, as by government order they are required to undergo quarantine for fourteen days. A second sign, posted at the weekend, declares that the same restaurant is now closed until the pandemic is under control. Slightly more upbeat, the laminated poster by the door to the Vittoriosa Pharmacy announces “Sanitiser is back in stock”.
Heading deeper into the city, the central square is almost deserted. The benches by the bus-stop, a regular hub for Birgu’s older citizens, sit empty. The statue of St. Lawrence, usually a central meeting point, stands overlooking the square with nobody gossiping around its pedestal. The buzz of chatter from the line of cafés and bars on the east side of the square is gone, as indeed is all those cafés’ outside furniture, stored away until they are permitted to re-open.
From the square I took a short walk around the Collachio, which is equally deserted. In total I passed only four people: a man out to smoke a cigarette at the Post of Castille; a woman washing her car in an otherwise deserted street; and two tradesmen outside their places of work. The mood was sombre. Gone was the usual Birgu bonhomie; there were no smiles or greetings. Instead we respectfully kept our distance. As I continued my walk outside the city walls I passed more people, and we all seemed to understand the importance of giving each other a wide berth and not making contact. I could see the anxiety in their faces.
The only place that was business as usual was the Fortini Kiosk, where a group of men huddled together by the side of the road, laughing and joking. Here there was no social distancing, no isolation. I hope they know what they are doing.
All in all, the walk did little to lift my spirits. But returning home, I had a quick look at social media, and was reminded that the impression given by the deserted streets does not accurately reflect the resilience and camaraderie of the people of Birgu, and of Malta as a whole.
The weekly processions of Lent may have been cancelled, but the churches are still active. One of the current directives is that Mass should be said only in private, a restriction that is being tackled head on. On Sunday a priest of the Dominican order went door to door with the Host, an act reminiscent of his forebears during the Great Siege, who administered the sacraments on the walls of the city to the sick and wounded. Similarly the Church of St. Lawrence is encouraging its congregation to participate in the live-streaming of Mass on what seems like a daily basis.
The camaraderie of the Maltese people was also shown one night earlier in the week. The streets of the city were deserted, but at 9.00pm from windows and balconies began a huge round of applause, accompanied by whistling and cheering. The occasion was coordinated across Malta through social media, as a mark of respect for the selfless and relentless work being done by those working in healthcare services in the face of the corona-virus pandemic.
For me it served as a useful reminder that whilst I may be self-isolating, and while the majority of us are keeping social distance, we are never alone.