Tower Road, in Sliema could rightly be considered as emblematic of Malta’s microhistory. It borrowed its name from one of the Wignacourt coastal watchtowers when Sliema was exclusively rural and virtually uninhabited.
Then British servicemen and settlers took a shine to that area and started building round the coastline. As always happened, if the colonisers did it, hordes of the colonised slobbered to ape them.
That accounts for the interminable rows of neat British-style bay-windowed bungalows that characterised the first incarnation of Tower Road. And that went hand in hand with the demographics: generally middle class, approximately English speaking, happy with snobbery and colonialism. Subtle class distinctions plagued even pre-war days – the real Brits would only settle for the ‘sunny side’ of Tower Road. The rest, the natives could fight over.
With independence in 1964, everything in the street changed. New money started asserting itself, the bay windows disappeared, the new gospel preached: higher and higher and the demographics became ever more assorted. In-your-face democracy put outdated gentility to shame. The new seal of fulfilment: the penthouse in Tower Road.
With all its undoubted quaintness and charm, early Strada Torre hardly captivated everyone. Leading and prolific Malta camera artists like Horatio Agius, the Watsons, Geo Fürst, Walter Kümmerly and Tony Armstrong Jones published not one single image of the road in its romantic heyday. They must have dismissed it as dismally unphotogenic.
And, in truth, it proved particularly stingy with landmarks throughout its length – only the watchtower of the knights, the Art Nouveau Casa Said, the Meadowbank Hotel – and that almost exhausts its notable exceptions. No one ever thought of erecting a theatre or single place of worship, architecturally dignified or otherwise.
All images from the author’s collections.