Gozo’s Mġarr ix-Xini is at its most beautiful in spring, autumn and winter. But once summer kicks in, it’s a ‘parking bay’. Gone is the bliss of complete, or comparative, solitude. Instead, you compete with other road-users, obligingly backing up the narrow steep hill to let them through (a literally thankless task). Next, after the burn-out and the burnt tyres, the Holy Grail of a parking spot fails to materialise. You leave them to it, select forward gear and vow never to return.
Yet I found myself there again on June 29 (a public holiday no less). And why? Because I’m a willing slave to what I can only describe as ‘the things we do for the dogs we love’. Mġarr ix-Xini, you see, is renowned for being dog-friendly.
Even on the internet as recently as May 2020 (GuideMeMalta.com). And, wonder of wonders, fortune favoured me with a parking spot. I was laughing all the way to the beach.
Actually, I made my way to the rocky part (right-hand side if you’re facing the bay) and perched on the most comfortable rock I could find. Dog-friendly or not, I was not going to inflict my dog on other bathers. That’s because I believe in my furry friend enjoying himself without making the lives of others a misery. An ethos, in fact, that I believe all beaches – doggy or not – should observe. Which rules out rowdy boats, loud music and even screaming children kicking up sand.
By comparison, my dog is very well mannered. He doesn’t bark in public, although he likes his swim and will instinctively shake when wet. And on a dog-friendly beach, you’d think he’d be well within his rights to do both.
Perhaps it’s time to introduce him. Larry’s a big, goofy golden retriever who looks like something you’d find at Cordina or Elia wearing a bow and an Easter egg. Retrievers are known to be gentle and eager to please, which might explain why they are used as service dogs for the disabled and, ironically, as search-and-rescue dogs on beaches. They also have an instinctive love of water, having been bred as hunting dogs to retrieve waterfowl. It is therefore impossible to keep them out of a stagnant pool, let alone the shimmering Mare Nostrum that washes our islands.
This obsession with keeping dogs out of the sea is baffling and symptomatic of what I can only describe as a backwater mentality
True to form, Larry jumped in. But nobody – nobody – was disturbed. Until, that is, we were interrupted by a young man in a MTA shirt, who denied the dog permission to swim.
At first, I thought the problem was the swimming without a leash, so against my better judgement, I created a noose and tied the lead to a hook in the rock. This allowed Larry to swim after a fashion. But it wasn’t my idea of ‘dog-friendly’, let alone ‘dog-safe’, given that leashes are a hazard in the water to both dogs and swimmers. But I was in no mood to argue.
Within minutes, however, he was back to tell me that my dog was not allowed in the water. Period. I pointed out that this was listed as a dog-friendly beach. His reply, loosely translated, was that he didn’t give a damn what the internet said and that the Gozo Ministry had decided otherwise. He then threatened to call the police. Charming.
Uncouth and gormless individuals are precisely what the MTA does not need at this time. It would have been interesting to call his bluff, given our culture of non-enforcement and the fact that the police have a habit of not showing up when you desperately need them. In fact, I suddenly pictured hapless Miriam Pace pleading for help while the police were taking money from construction companies to look the other way.
In a very loud voice, I told him exactly what I thought about the ministry’s cruel policy and reminded him that the Gozo minister was once the minister for animal rights. Clearly the minister’s convictions didn’t last long.
Meanwhile, the bay was chock-a-bloc with every boat imaginable: jet skis, speedboats, cabin cruisers, all dangerously close to the shore, belting out black smoke and doubtless turning the bay into a collective toilet. To say nothing of the damage caused by anchors to the seabed.
I did a quick recce. The usual suspects. Beer cans, bottles, yesterday’s garbage, cigarette butts, shards of glass, used masks. Yet only dogs were claiming the man’s attention and provoking his wrath.
This obsession with keeping dogs out of the sea (on an island!) is baffling and symptomatic of what I can only describe as a backwater mentality. The only rationale I can think of is that some people are afraid of dogs swimming freely. But then they’re unlikely to be visiting a designated doggy beach. And by the way, dogs, unlike humans, do not urinate or excrete in the water. Neither do they pose the risk to swimmers that powerboats do, or dump rubbish at sea like commercial shipping. These days we are aware that large ships, cruise liners included, produce as much lung-clogging sulphur as all the world’s cars.
I was recently stopped on a beach in Sliema by a LESA warden who threatened to fine me because my dog was not on a leash. At 7am, on a windy morning, when there was no one else in sight, I failed to understand who we were bothering. I thought I was being considerate. Surely there could be designated times (early morning, before day trippers arrive) when friendly, non-aggressive dogs and breeds could be allowed to swim freely on designated rocky beaches?
Meanwhile Balluta Bay, where my dog is most definitely not allowed to swim, is slowly being turned into a cesspit and will probably soon be home to a ferryboat service. Some might say that our country has gone to the dogs in every possible way, except literally.