The other day I watched for a long time as a super yacht slowly but elegantly sailed out of our Grand Harbour. While trying to get my jaws to pull themselves together, someone shouted out that it was Eclipse, the boat (ahem) of Roman Abramovich, also known as the Chelsea Football Club owner.

I can see the reason behind the name. This yacht is so big that, like an eclipse, it blots the sun out, and can momentarily cause bling-bling blindness. It’s so excessive that it ought to classify as the ultimate naff show, a ħamallaġni, but still, watching it glide out past the bastions makes you forget all about bourgeoisie aspirations, and all you can think of is: “Ah, if only I win the lottery...”.

The thing is, what would I ever do with a ship that has two helicopter pads, two swimming pools, a hundred hot tubs, a hairdressing salon, three launch boats, a restaurant, a disco, bullet-proof windows, a built-in missile defence system, a 70-strong crew and a submarine?

I don’t even know enough people to fill half its deck. “Eh! But then everyone will want to know you! You’ll see how easy it will be to fill it up!” friends kept telling me as I tried to grapple with the very idea. (They also assured me they’d be very happy to jump from one hot tub to another, just so to test them all out).

I am not sure I’d want to be surrounded by people fawning over me, telling me I look fantastic, when 99 per cent of the time I’ll have sushi seaweed in my teeth and scaldy blotches from those hot tubs.

But the damage was done, and thanks to the Russian oligarch and his second-largest yacht in the world, I went out and bought a stack of Grand Lottery tickets. Fine, I exaggerate, three tickets in total, but that meant that I swapped a nutritious lunch at Piadina for a two pastizzi. Shock! Horror! I now can empathise with those people who do away with bread and milk just to buy more lottery tickets.

All this, of course, makes me think some more about what it is exactly that makes us want to win a lump sum of money? Do we really believe that money will sort all our troubles out?

Do we really believe money will sort all our troubles out?

What baffles me is how everyone seems to have uniform thoughts on what to do to upon winning: “I’ll give half of it to the poor, the rest to my family and with the remainder I’ll go on holiday”.

Really now? Do you know how guilty that makes me feel?

When I plan this winning business, I always conclude that by the time I pay off my mortgage; buy an orange electric car (don’t ask); a container-load of Geronimo Stilton books (strict orders from my daughter); go and watch Chelsea win against Manchester United (maybe I could get a seat next to Abramovich?); and buy a lovely house in Valletta overlooking the Grand Harbour, I’d be already skint, with barely enough dosh to employ a much-coveted butler to get me sashimis at the snap of a finger, and even less in the kitty for ‘the poor’.

Tsk, tsk, shame on you Kristina, as one minister would put it.

In any case, this got me intrigued enough to carry out some research on what real winners actually spend their money on. We have no stats in Malta, but in the UK they carried out a survey of the spending habits of the 3,000 millionaires created since the National Lottery’s launch.

Money is spent in this order: property, fund investments, cars, caravans and travel and tourism. The majority of winners – 59 per cent – give up work, while 19 per cent carried on working despite their big win; 40 per cent of them take up unpaid voluntary work. Many use the cash to start their own business.

The majority changed their main home and spent on average £900,000 (€1m) on a new houses all furnished with hot tubs (what’s it with these?), walk-in wardrobes, electric gates and a games room.

One-third of the winners employed a cleaner and a gardener. Most winners change their cars to an Audi, Range Rover, Mercedes or Land Rover. Then they go on holiday to the US or the Caribbean and stay in five-star hotels. My plans sound exciting compared to these. I mean, electric gates? An Audi? B-o-r-i-n-g.

I even came across phone call recordings of the very moment when lottery winners get the phone call telling them that they’ve won large sums of money: in some there’s stunned silence, others screech and scream.

I promise that should I win, I will let you know how I reacted the week after. Actually, what the heck, I’ll rent out a super yacht and celebrate in style – you’re all invited, of course.

krischetcuti@gmail.com