I remember when wine bars were a huge thing. I had been introduced to a (good) wine by my brother. Till then, I had only drunk wine-coloured liquids tasting of soiled socks drenched in vinegar. They weren’t that good.

My brother promised me that the bottle in front of him tasted nothing like this, being a well-appreciated Italian red.

I still remember the moment vividly, and the pre-emptive disgust as I bravely put glass to lips. My palate immediately thanked me for it: this was truly a better offering than the wine drank with friends.

The opening of a wine bar was therefore news that I had welcomed open-heartedly, and, thankfully, a couple of others followed, giving wine lovers more choice and more space where to binge in their libation.

Soon enough, however, the trend spiralled out of control, and everybody and his neighbour wanted to open a wine bar, in all towns and localities.

“I’m going into business.” “Really, what are you planning?” “Opening a wine bar.”

“You know what just opened around the corner? A wine bar!”

“You know that restaurant that served big portions of below par quality? It’s now a wine bar serving small portions of even worse quality!”

“I’m opening an establishment.”

“Don’t tell me: it’s going to be a wine bar.”

And so, the usual mercantile clique deprived of any creativity covered the whole of Malta with wine bars. Wine bars here and wine bars there, wine bars this and wine bars that.

I wonder if they had started to serve wine instead of milk at schools? A plausible idea, given our relentless search for pro­gress, ‘fixing what ain’t broken’ and the never-satiated appetite for destruction, tearing apart centuries-old traditions for the pure aesthetic pleasure of it. Very philosophical.

Then it was time to close shop, or rather wine bar, and build a plethora of massive malls, a trend which, alas, has still not died. Because that is precisely what we need on our little island of ours: a gazillion shopping com­plexes dotting the landscape with their monstrous presence, all selling exactly the same thing at about the same prices.

It will soon be possible to book a room in a boutique hotel located in a marvellous newly renovated boutique hotel with a wonderful view of a luxurious boutique hotel

But hey, you may save a euro or two if you drive to the other side of the country (well, to the next town really, but the difference is nowadays hard to discern) and spend a fiver in fuel. You may then have to pay for parking or, in the probable eventuality of there not being any available, especially not two feet away from the aisle where the product in question is selling like pastizzi, just risk a fine. It’s two euros we’re talking about, after all.

Now the latest craze in this crazy country is the boutique hotel, so commonplace and ubiquitous that it is hard to justify the moniker. It will soon be possible to book a room in a boutique hotel located in a marvellous newly renovated boutique hotel with a wonderful view of a luxurious boutique hotel.

Meanwhile, what is unique is brought down and erased quick­er than you can say boutique. Not that one should utter such a word, now to be forever relegated to the dictionary of clichés thanks to its blatant abuse and overuse.

The former City Lights in Valletta. In a country where art cinemas – well anything ‘art’ really – is sordidly lacking, we could not come up with something better than another boutique hotel. Photo: Jonathan Borg

And so it is that one of the most infamous spots in modern-day Valletta, and the very last of the old cinemas, will perish for yet another boutique hotel. What creative genius!

Other countries would take this opportunity to turn the sordid into the cultural, providing a quirky contrast reminding visitors of the country’s past while showcasing its bright future.

In Malta we apparently don’t need this, and when we do emulate – nay, attempt to emulate – our wiser neighbours, we are sure to include a number of wine bars, because culture for culture’s sake? Who cares, right? Where’s the money in that? The preciousss money…

Back to the complete, irresponsible destruction of uniqueness: it is precisely these unique elements that make places like Valletta stand out. I think most people fail to see this, because they appreciate the whole without studying the parts of which it is the sum.

And so they go on, from wine bar to wine bar, boutique hotel to boutique hotel, loving and appreciating without know­ing exactly what makes their object of admiration so loveable and appreciable, until one day, with all the unique, quirky, beautiful parts gone, they finally realise that the place is not as lovely, and they stop appreciating it as they once did. And still they wonder why, because the reason for this ‘sudden’ change still escapes them.

In a country where art cinemas – well, anything ‘art’ really – is sordidly lacking, we could not come up with something better than another boutique hotel. To be fair, one can’t expect a better imagination from a country so deprived of art, and where art takes the back bench in fa­vour of economic progress, which somehow al­ways manages to come at the expense of the environment and art, the things that truly matter in life.

But it’s capitalism and progress, they say. Of course, don’t you dare take that argument to its tragic logical extent, because then the political correctness brigade will accuse you of being a fascist. And they would be right, but it’s funny how capitalism is put aside in some instances to ensure the rights of people, but rarely in the name of the country’s own ‘personality’. The mind boggles.

Malta is not the place for people belonging to a niche, partly because the niche will always be too small (unlike in bigger metropolitan cities, where niches are substantially populated), but mostly because no respect is afforded to diversity of taste.

Art cinemas abound in all major capital cities, especially so in Europe, yet not in Malta, where we have just one at the very periphery. You know, to tick the box and keep up appearances.

Come to think of it, perhaps we should turn that into a boutique hotel too.