Summer in the new EU: Malta is known for its festas, fireworks and fish. Film is now also on the list - and a chance to be an extra for Spielberg, writes Herman Grech
I am sitting on a beach swarming with hundreds of scantily clad blond girls strutting their stuff as Italian men flex their muscles to impress.
A mere 100m away legendary film director Steven Spielberg is shouting "cut" to scores of extras on the beach promenade, which doubles as a historical backdrop to his latest film.
Hovering above, a helicopter from real life accompanies yet another landing of desperate illegal immigrants fleeing African strife.
For an island measuring just 316 sq km, and basking in sizzling temperatures, Malta is having anything but a siesta this summer.
We Maltese are a funny bunch. We are proud, we gesticulate to express ourselves, and we are rather loud - very loud indeed.
The Italians are no better and as hundreds of them pour on to the island for their traditional ferragosto holidays, you can imagine the din this month. Add to that the cacophony of firework explosions in honour of some village patron saint, and Malta is buzzing with activity.
Though religion is meant to be the underlying factor of the Maltese festa, most of which are celebrated in August, the common denominator is fireworks. The louder, the bigger, the more spectacular and expensive, the better.
Take away the bangs from the feasts and it's like having a barbecue with no fire. Every year a couple of men lose their lives as they concoct the dangerous fireworks, but any talk of abolishing them would cause a war.
With the government slapping outrageous new air departure taxes with effect from this month, most Maltese chose to shift their holidays to July. Add to this the thousands of foreigners thronging the island, and this August is fast becoming a godsend for retailers.
Of course, in true Mediterranean fashion, taxi drivers, bars and restaurants in tourist areas like Sliema and Bugibba will gladly fleece the odd visitor, but you can be rest assured they will do it with a smile.
The good news is that Malta remains one of the safest countries in Europe. The seafood is also safe: go to any dingy restaurant in the most obscure village and you are guaranteed to be served the most exquisite fresh fish, doused with fine olive oil and a bit of lemon. And the prices remain rather reasonable. Some things will of course never change - chips will accompany any dish you order. Malta was a former British colony, after all.
The majority of tourists are English. There are two kinds: the retired couples in search of the ultimate all-inclusive package deal, and the youngsters bent on turning Malta into Ibiza.
Thousands of young people throng the seaside area of Paceville until the early hours. The zone is a melting pot of cultures with one thing in common - booze. Be it some music festival or hordes of youths singing away as they sip Malta's own Cisk beer, this island never sleeps.
The new Valletta Waterfront project is a treat for the senses, though nothing matches a walk around the historic city of Mdina in the dead of night.
Finding a hotel in Malta in August could prove as difficult as buying a ticket for a U2 concert in Dublin.
The island has fast become one of the main centres for teaching English. And of course, the gangs of blond female students provide the perfect match for the many Maltese men determined to liven up their summer. Needless to say, most foreign students are in Malta to do everything except learn English.
The island might be tiny but you will still find everything under the sun. If you're looking for a church there is one at every corner. If you want a nightclub there are two on every street. You only need to brave the heat and walk.
Public transport remains primitive and driving in Malta, especially in August, is a recipe for a nervous breakdown.
We have this theory that we Maltese like driving in the shade - a good joke were it not for the fact that most drivers actually do it in reality.
The sight of a pristine car, pumping loud music and zig-zagging across potholed roads is not uncommon.
As tempers soar with the August sun, the one person we have all been rather patient with this summer is Spielberg, who seems to have taken up residence on the island while shooting a film about the hunt for the murderers of the Munich Olympics athletes.
The director has used Malta's every nook and cranny as a backdrop to the film, stopping traffic and cordoning off entire areas. For an island considered by Unesco as second only to Rome in terms of historical richness, this comes as no surprise.
While half the Maltese people are doubling up as extras, running around in the heat caked with make-up, the other half are making a quick buck off the film.
Reportedly, residents were paid thousands to lend their properties for a day. One woman was offered over €100 just to take her washing down from the roof because it was in the line of shooting.
Yet, away from the cameras, a real-life drama is unfolding. As the island parties away in the heat, scores of asylum seekers are landing on rickety boats after making their gruelling journey from Libya. Some, however, have perished in the seas. The situation has become so desperate that the government has called a state of emergency, and appealed to other EU states to consider a system of reallocation to help with the burden. As expected, no solution has yet been found.
Herman Grech is a journalist with the Times of Malta
