The Great Mdina Escapade: A Tale of Unlikely Entrepreneurs

Disorder in the Market

On a sunny day in the bustling market of Valletta, two rivaling street vendors, Carmnu and Wistin, were in the midst of an “intense” business feud. Carmnu sold the finest ħobż biż-żejt in all of Malta, while Wistin was known for his artisanal gbejniet. However, their dispute wasn’t about their products, but rather the prime spot right next to the iconic Triton Fountain.

“How many times must I tell you, Wistin? My bread brings all the tourists to the yard!” exclaimed Carmnu, waving a baguette as if it were a sword.
“Uwejja! Your bread wouldn’t last a day in Gozo, let alone here,” retorted Wistin, his cheek full of cheese.

As they bickered, the rest of the market carried on, shoppers jostling past the commotion with an array of Maltese sayings and exasperated “mela!” exclamations. But amidst the chaos, an opportunity was born.

A Twisted Turn of Events

Suddenly, a group of tourists, clutching their Lonely Planet guides a bit too tightly, ventured into the fray. They whispered excitedly about the mystical “Azure Window” they could no longer visit. Wistin, ever the opportunist, hatched an outlandish plan.

“Psst, Carmnu, what if we build our own window, hein? We’ll be rich!” Wistin whispered, his eyes glittering with mischief.
“And let them watch what exactly? The view of your face?” Carmnu replied, skeptically.

Their quarrel was temporarily shelved as they envisioned a grand scheme to lure tourists to a fabricated attraction. They dubbed it the “Mystical Window of Mdina,” and their imaginations ran as wild as a festa night.

Construction Chaos

The two decided to pool their resources. They gathered material, ranging from discarded pastizz boxes to a motley collection of seashells and driftwood, and set off to construct their masterpiece. With a level of secrecy typically reserved for the plot of a Maltese prime-time soap opera, the “Mystical Window” began taking shape.

Unforeseen Complications

However, life in Malta is never as simple as a tranquil Għadira Bay afternoon. The residents of Mdina, upon noticing the unusual construction, grew suspicious.

Local busybody, Ġannina, live-tweeted the entire escapade, using hashtags like #MysticalMdinaMadness and #WhatsTritonGotToDoWithIt, leading to an influx of curious onlookers. The makeshift structure became the talk of the town, overshadowing even the controversy of the latest Eurovision entry.

“Kollox se jkun ġust! It’s going to be the eighth wonder of the world, you’ll see,” Carmnu announced proudly to the now growing crowd.

Word spread like wildfire, and soon enough, tourists began flocking to the site. Intrigued by this unexpected turn of events, a broadcasting crew arrived to interview the entrepreneurial duo.

A Not-So-Grand Reveal

The big day arrived, and the “Mystical Window” was unveiled to an eager audience. With a flourish, Carmnu and Wistin pulled away the covers, revealing… a haphazardly composed frame of driftwood that barely stood upright. The crowd’s reaction? A collective gasp followed by uncontrollable laughter.

Against all odds, the “Mystical Window” became a sensation for all the wrong reasons. It was the epitome of a Maltese “pjazza” joke. Instead of being ridiculed, Carmnu and Wistin were celebrated for their unintentionally comedic endeavor. Tourists and locals alike came for the laughs and stayed for the snacks.

The Twist in the Story

Just when they thought they had peaked, a peculiar thing happened. An influential travel blogger, smitten by the charm and absurdity of the place, wrote a viral article about it. Suddenly, the “Mystical Window of Mdina” was a must-see, transforming it into Malta’s quirkiest attraction.

Business boomed for Carmnu and Wistin, who became accidental heroes of the Maltese entrepreneurial spirit. The Triton Fountain was now just a spot where you could get the best ħobż biż-żejt and gbejniet before heading to Mdina to witness the spectacle that was never meant to be.

Reflections on a Pjazza

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the limestone walls of Mdina, Carmnu and Wistin sat on their new bench overlooking the crowd.

“Mela, we really pulled it off, didn’t we?” Wistin asked, chuckling.
“Yes, uwejja, I mean… who could have expected this? Just imagine what we could do next,” replied a smirking Carmnu, his mind already racing with more ludicrous ideas.

And as the stars began to twinkle above the silent city, the laughter of patrons blended with whispers of the next great escapade. Indeed, in Malta, sometimes the best business plans are those born from a bit of friendly rivalry and a generous dash of serendipity.