There’s a small but mouthy minority of Maltese who profess to despise anything British (including this columnist) and delight in that nation’s problems. They must be laughing their socks off when they read that the UK declares a state of emergency whenever the mercury there heads for 30 degrees or more.

Pathetic, is it not, that the nation that once ruled most of the earth on which the sun never set can’t cope nowadays with high temperatures in summer?

What they may overlook is the thought that, if there is an actual pattern in climate change, it tends to suggest that Britain – and much of northern Europe – is looking at hotter summers and milder winters.

Let’s pause and think what this might mean for Malta.

Apart from the attraction of cheaper booze and cigarettes, the only thing that brings thousands of pale package holidaymakers to these islands is the promise of sunshine – of an intensity that is, or has been, unknown back home.

They no longer come for the history. Nope, it’s the sun, sea and sand that tempt them here.

And to get here they are prepared to cope with understaffed UK airports, three-hour check-ins, the abolition of paid-for fast-track, limited luggage, snail-pace queues for baggage X-rays and, sometimes, even last-minute cancellation of flights. They are content to spend about four hours sitting in an aircraft with the same degree of comfort and legroom as they’d get in the back seat of a Mini. Then queuing for passport checks at this end and guess-the-fare taxis touting for passengers.

And, of course – might we who are concerned about the effect of fuel emissions mention this? – they’ve flown off to the sunshine trailing a stream of used fuel vapour that depletes the ozone level.

You see where I am going here. If the UK is predicted to get Mediterranean sunshine levels in summer (that will last far longer than the set-aside fortnight or 10 days in Malta), why should they bother with all the harassment involved in getting here?

After all, England has far better beaches, some of them five miles or more of golden sand. Nowhere is further than about 60 miles from the sea (say two hours when the roads are busy, or an hour on a train, with a service, maybe, every hour). For many stay-at-home holidaymakers, the trip to the coast would take less time than the ride from Luqa to Ċirkewwa. Or the queue for a ferry at Mġarr.

If it’s history they’re after, the UK has far more than Malta- Revel Barker

Quality restaurants at the English seaside are cheaper and the fish (not farmed) is as fresh, with far more choice, as in Malta. The air is quite definitely cleaner.

They already have a word for it, invented during lockdown. Holidaying in your home country is called a ‘staycation’. What’s not to like?

They can pack the boot of the car after breakfast and arrive at their destination in time for a paddle in the sea before lunch and drive home after dinner. Whereas if you were travelling to Malta this year you allowed a full day of your holiday for it (and if it was an early flight, as many are, you allowed the previous night, too).

Not everybody wants sea and sand. If it’s history they’re after, the UK has far more than Malta. Some people prefer the pleasure of roaming across empty hills and dales and looking at trees or visiting stately homes and gardens. There’s abundant opportunity to do that, in England.

Now it looks as though they will be able to do all this in the sunshine. And if the promise of milder winters comes to fruition (and the Brits know how to wrap up warm, on the off-chance) the option of a staycation will be available all year round.

Who needs British tourists (the nay-sayers will ask)? Who cares if they don’t come? The answer to both questions is that Malta does because tourism is still by far the biggest industry. And the Brits are the biggest punters.

A far more pertinent question might be: ‘Who needs Malta?’

Revel Barker is a former Fleet Street reporter and a long-term resident of Gozo.