Malta Holds Breath as 1800-Tonne Flyover Slab Locks In: Dawn Drama at Msida Creek

Watch: Heaviest piece of Msida flyover is installed
By Hot Malta staff

A hush fell over the Msida yacht marina at 05:47 this morning as the last slab of caramel-coloured concrete—78 metres long, 4.2 metres high and weighing more than a Boeing 747—inched into place like a giant Lego brick. By 06:12 the deed was done: the heaviest single segment of Malta’s new €22 million Msida Creek flyover had been married to its steel ribs, closing the most delicate chapter of a project that has kept traffic controllers, divers and parish priests on tenterhooks for months.

For anyone who has ever sat in the bottleneck between Valletta and the university at 17:30 on a Friday, the sight of the 1,800-tonne monster hovering above the water felt almost spiritual. “It’s like watching someone lift the lid off our collective claustrophobia,” said 63-year-old Gżira resident Tarcisio Zahra, who arrived with a camping chair and a thermos at 04:00 to secure the best vantage point. His father once operated the old Gżira ferry before the first Marsamxett bridge opened in 1972; Zahra brought the original brass ship’s bell to ring as the segment locked in. “Three generations of my family have cursed this junction. Maybe the bell will exorcise it.”

The engineering theatre began weeks earlier. Infrastructure Malta engineers rehearsed the lift on a 3-D digital twin built from drone scans and 1960s British Admiralty charts still marked “Secret”. Barges were ballasted with 600 tonnes of Gozo limestone off-cuts—cheaper than lead, and a neat hat-tip to the islands’ quarrymen. At 03:00 today, priests from the nearby parish of St Joseph sprinkled holy water on the cables; a practice last requested in 1902 when the Valletta seawall cracked. “Steel and concrete are strong, but Maltese traffic is stronger,” joked project manager Rebecca Vella. “We take every bit of help we can get.”

Local impact has already been felt beyond the tailbacks. Cafés along the Strand rolled out 04:30 “crane croissants” and sold out by dawn. A pop-up Instagram stall offered commemorative pastizzi stamped with the flyover silhouette—raspberry-filled, because “infrastructure should be sweet”. Even the kiosk hawking ħobż biż-żejt renamed its tuna-and-capers sandwich “The Load-Bearer” and doubled sales.

Yet the emotional resonance runs deeper than pastry gimmicks. Msida’s creek was once a salt-water lung where kids leapt off fishing boats and Regatta crews trained for the September races. Over decades it became a carbuncle of idling engines and overheated radiators. “We stopped seeing the water,” recalled 82-year-old Karmenu Fsadni, who captained the winning Għarb boat in 1958. “Maybe now we’ll remember we live on an island.”

The flyover’s design deliberately nods to that maritime memory: parapets are painted the same shade of viridian as traditional luzzu prows, and LED strips will ripple turquoise at night like a gently slapping wave. Architect Claude Borg, a Sliema native, sneaked in 24 tiny alcoves for nesting sparrows—Malta’s unofficial national bird. “If the birds adopt it, we’ve truly rebuilt the sky,” Borg said.

Not everyone is clapping. Bicycle activists argue the project still favours cars, and bird-watchers worry the lights will disorient migratory shearwaters. But even critics paused this morning. “I came to boo, ended up filming,” admitted 19-year-old climate striker Mireille Attard, her phone raised skyward. “It’s hard to hate something that looks like it’s floating.”

By 07:00 the cranes had folded, the bell had quieted, and the first commuter engine coughed back to life. In the shimmering heat, the new concrete artery already felt oddly timeless, as if it had always hovered above the creek like a Roman aqueduct with number-plates. Whether it cures Malta’s addiction to the private car remains to be seen, but for one sunrise the island stood still—no horns, no curses, just the soft slap of wave against barge and the faint smell of pastizzi on the wind. We may still be stuck in traffic tomorrow, yet today we witnessed the heaviest piece of our future click into place.