Issue link: https://maltatoday.uberflip.com/i/1545759
T he first to greet visitors at Louis Cini's farm isn't Louis himself. It's Sandy. The loyal dog appears at the gate first, wagging enthusiastically before circling back to Louis, never straying far from his side. Throughout the morning, Sandy shadows every step his owner takes across the fields, a fitting companion for a man who has spent almost his entire life rooted to this land. For 26 years, Louis has been a full-time farmer. For the last 17 of those, he has been a certified organic farmer. Yet, as he tells it, becoming organic wasn't really a change at all. "I was already farming that way." The certification simply gave a name to what he'd been doing all along. The farm has belonged to his family for generations. Before Louis, it was cared for by his parents, his mother's uncles and aunts, and the generations before them. Eventually, the responsibility passed to him, and today he continues that family story largely on his own, with the occasional helping hand when needed. Louis recalls the turning point almost casually. One day, the mayor of Mellieħa invited him to attend a meeting about organic farming. Curious, he went along. After inspectors visited the farm, they told him something that his methods already met almost all the requirements for organic production. He barely used pesticides and had always preferred working with nature rather than against it. The mayor even helped submit his application. Following the required two- year conversion period, Louis officially became one of Malta's first certified organic farmers. For him, the certificate simply confirmed what had always been true. Walking around Louis' farm feels like exploring two worlds at once. The first is alive with vegetables, fruit trees and seasonal crops. Louis grows an impressive variety of produce, supplying organic shops across Malta while also welcoming visitors who prefer to pick their own fruit and vegetables directly from the fields alongside him. As we walk, he reaches down, cuts a handful of broad beans straight from the plants and places them in my hands. Fresh enough to eat immediately. Louis opens the doors to the old family quarters. He has deliberately left them exactly as they were when his uncle, the last family member to live there, passed away. Nothing has been modernised. Nothing has been staged. Stepping inside feels less like entering a house and more like walking into a family archive frozen in time. The bedrooms remain intact. The tiny kitchen still tells the story of life before electricity, with colourful enamel pots resting on shelves slowly surrendering to rust. Old quilts lie folded where they were left years ago. Wartime boots sit beneath layers of dust. Manual farming tools lean silently against stone walls. Photographs, softened by decades of salty air and wind, still watch over the rooms from faded frames. Every object carries the quiet presence of the people who once lived here. It is impossible not to feel as though you've travelled backwards through Maltese rural history. Back outside, Louis continues his tour. Among the many reminders of traditional farming is an old water pump that has served the land for generations. Long before electricity reached the countryside, a mule or donkey would slowly walk in circles, powering wooden gears and chains that drew water from the deep well below to irrigate the surrounding fields. Today, modern methods may have replaced that system, but its presence is a reminder of the ingenuity and resilience of earlier generations. Louis speaks about organic farming with the quiet confidence of someone who has lived it rather than studied it. He acknowledges the challenges. Organic farming demands more patience, more observation and often more uncertainty. But for him, that uncertainty is also its greatest reward. Watching nature find its own balance, he says, is endlessly fascinating. These days Louis manages the farm mostly on his own. It isn't simply his workplace. It's his escape. His sanctuary. There is a calmness about him that seems inseparable from the fields he tends every day. This is not the kind of place most tourists ever experience. Hidden away in the countryside of Mellieħa, Louis' farm offers something increasingly rare: an authentic glimpse into Malta's agricultural heritage, where generations of family history, traditional farming and organic principles continue to exist side by side. Visitors leave with far more than fresh vegetables. They leave having met a farmer whose story reflects the enduring relationship between people, land and time itself. And, if they're lucky, they'll probably be followed back to the gate by Sandy. 19