No, but seriously...Sour kraut...

I've been rather saddened to see that recently the Italians have been beastly to the Germans... again. I mean come on. It's not their fault they are bombastic, Teutonic oafs. They were born that way. We... I mean the Italians, not us... should show compassion towards our... their northern allies.

When I read about Signor Berlusconi's spat with a Kraut in the European parliament, I was on the verge of picking up the phone and taking issue with him. Then, hot on his tongue, his very own minister (soon to be ex-minister) of tourism is hopping on the bandwagon and blowing even louder raspberries in the direction of the marauding Hun.

But then I thought: Hey, hang on... Maybe Silvio and Steffano are doing us a favour. All those cancelled holidays in Venice and Brindisi may send a few more blond Teutons in our direction. Great. Fantastic. Bring them all in... But what we must try to avoid is making the same mistake.

So, with my public service hat on... yet again, Sylvanus would like to give you a few tips on keeping the Germanic hordes sweet. I've compiled a sort of check-list of dos and don'ts, to ensure we keep our jackboots... whoops, I mean feet, out of our mouths, and don't cause high-profile offence to our soon-to-be Euro partners.

Dos:

Do try to be positive at all times.

For instance: When escorting a platoon of German tourists around Valletta, lie through your teeth about how the Opera House ruins came to be ruins. Tell them it was stray British bomb. The Brits won't mind, they are used to taking the blame.

Always take them to the National Museum or the Museum of Fine Arts and, at all costs, avoid the War Museum at St Elmo.

Try really hard to smile politely every time a vast Bavarian bum reverses out of a shop in Republic street, without looking left or right, and sends you sprawling into the gutter.

Grit your teeth and think of all those lovely euros pouring into the island's coffers, each time you tread on the brakes, as some dour Dortmunder strides out into the road, with one hand held up (actually not unlike... no never mind) to hold up the traffic as he and his hausfrau stroll nonchalantly - and oh so slowly - across the road.

Do try to think pleasant thoughts, the next time you sit in a bar full of beer-swilling and very loud Leipziggers, who appear to have taken a temporary lease on the place.

Always respect the right of every German tourist to reserve their spot round the swimming pool by placing their extra large beach towels down, to bag their pitch. And never ever, on any account, lose your cool and throw the whole bloody lot into the water.

Don'ts:

I know it's a cliché but, don't mention the war... either war. Oh sure it happened over 60 years ago, but losing doesn't come naturally to your average Klaus or Hildegaard, and their period of adjustment and acceptance is still going on.

Try to keep off the subject of Boris Becker's penchant for coloured girls.

Never praise the policies of either Silvio Berlusconi or the lamented Steffano Steffani, in front of a delegation of Mannheim manual workers.

At all costs try not to ask a resident of Dresden if he or she were ever in the Stasi.

Don't ask a German... any German, what he/she thought of Schindler's List, Life is Beautiful or The Pianist.

Words and topics not to be used in conversation with a German:

Zieg Heil! - Basil Fawlty - queue - Gestapo - Italian holiday resorts - neo-nazis - arrogance - 'Allo 'allo - the economic miracle - the swastika - the 1966 World Cup final - Nuremburg Rallies - Baader Meinhoff - Kristal nacht - torching Turks - Auschwitz - Eva Braun - the Anschloss - Austrian house painters.

Oh and finally: Please, please don't be so insensitive as to remind any of our Rhineland guests that Michael Schumacher actually drives an Italian car.

Guten tag.