As is often the case, an article in a recent copy of the Times of Malta got me thinking. The piece was by an American gentleman, a certain Randy Berry (No, I didn’t make that up). He is apparently a US special envoy for LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender) rights.
He was in Malta to investigate the possibility of, what he called, “gay-friendly Malta and Gozo moving to the front of niche gay tourism”... and why not?
Actually the whole concept of niche tourism made me wonder: if we can cater successfully for the LGBT community, why not other fringe members of society. For example, what about Malta holidays for foreign kaċċaturi?
OK I know some would say, we’ve got more than enough here already without importing extra. But it is a niche market that – I think – could prove lucrative.
Bring over lots and lots of pheasant, partridge and wood pigeon chicks; rear them to maturity, at which point you release them into Buskett forest. Then, advertise shooting holidays in sunny Malta in country pursuit publications like The Field – and just stand back and count the revenue accruing.
An idea along similar lines – and also using the forest up at Buskett – would be to organise paintballing sessions up there. It would be just the thing for foreign corporate companies using Malta for conferences and so forth...
Book them into a five-star hotel with conference facilities, then set half a day aside for a paintballing ‘bonding’ session. The only thing is... you’d have to be careful not to double book Buskett with hunters and paintballers at the same time; it could get rather messy and not a little dangerous.
Of course, homosexuals are far from the only marginalised members of society. It would be reasonable to argue that bankers and property salespeople are even more out of step and certainly much more reviled. So why not set up a branch of the Malta Tourism Authority to cater for niche speciality vacations for these poor outcasts?
The bankers could certainly afford to stay in some of our glitziest hotels, where we would provide safe rooms where they could spend as long as they liked counting their money and calculating their next hefty bonus.
The property salespeople would also demand custom-built hols. That should be an easy one to arrange. Just spend all day every day of their stay ferrying them round some of the most outrageously overpriced properties in Malta and Gozo.
You’d have to be careful not to double book Buskett with hunters and paintballers at the same time
If nothing else, it will make them feel all warm inside when they return to northern Europe and resume trying to flog their own outrageously overpriced properties.
One minority with whom I have a certain amount of empathy is that of racing pigeon fanciers. And here I should declare my interest.
My Uncle Herbert was one of this ilk, spending many hours ensconced in his pigeon loft awaiting the return of the latest batch of racers. In fact, his wife, Auntie Gloria, often grumbled that uncle spent more time with his damn pigeons than he did in her company. But anyone who had met Auntie Gloria would have understood the stronger attraction of a loft-load of birds.
But I digress: a niche racing pigeon fancier’s vacation would comprise a week – or two – touring the pigeon lofts of Malta and Gozo. Then when they return to their homes, they would trip a switch on a time clock inside their front door, and the first one home would win an extra week here... courtesy of MTA.
It’s hardly mainstream, but these guys become really obsessive about their pastime. So while that sort of break would bore me to tears, I reckon it’s one more niche to service.
And finally, how about catering for specialised holidays for Welsh or New Zealand people.
Why do I lump them together? Well, both are fanatical about the game of rugby and both are said to form... interesting relationships with... ahem... sheep.
We, in Malta, are not at all bad at rugby ourselves these days, and we can certainly talk a good game with our Antipodean and Celtic friends.
But when it comes to the four-footed woolly creatures... we’d just have to let them fight it out among themselves for the affections of the prettiest ewe.
But you know, I think we might be onto something here; niche tourism could well be the way to go.
And don’t forget MTA: you saw it here first.