BASIL Fawlty is alive and well and working in a bank in Malta. I know this news will bring great joy to all his fans and could spawn a mini-tourist boom to the Mediterranean island which actually lies nearer the equator than Tunisia.

How this far off speck has become part of the European Empire ...err sorry, Union, is a mystery to me; but then given the Lisbon Treaty, those in Brussels clearly have designs on something slightly larger than the Common Market, as it used to be called.

The treaty means there will be a President: Tony Blair obviously played his hand far too early for that one as he appears to be slipping out of the running. Heading the list now is a poetry-writing Belgian politician who no one outside his country has ever heard of – and probably not many of those inside either.

He has the wonderful name of Herman Achille Van Rompuy. He didn’t really want to be Prime Minister of Belgium, but he is, and this apparently self-effacing man is not really that keen on being President of Europe either – but has thrown his hat in the ring.

Bookies have slashed his odds from 33-1 to 3-1 while would-be President Blair sees his chances sliding away faster than jelly down a plughole.

There will also be a Foreign Secretary and David Miliband is the hot tip for that one, which – given his chances of still having a government post this time next year are as close to zero as you can get – looks a good option for the man.

Clearly though, as the European Empire takes shape, our Parliament – using local government as an analogy – is going to be reduced to that of a parish council on the world’s political stage.

So, yesterday a Market, today a Union – tomorrow the World and eat your heart out America.

Meanwhile Maltese newspapers were last week cheering the fact that they had finally got one person in some sort of position of miniscule power in Brussels, but most of the islanders couldn’t really give a fig.

Anyway, back to Basil. We were staying with Ed who lives on the island and were enjoying a morning coffee – wearing teeshirts and shorts of course – outside a little cafe on the seafront of a small picturesque fishing village.

He decided to pop across the road and change some sterling into euros – yup the Maltese have surrendered their currency to the funny money. He was asked to take a seat and the cashier then proceeded to make a phone call.

What she had failed to realise is that after three years of living on the island Ed has picked up a smattering of Maltese and the phone call involved a dinner date with someone called Rod. After five minutes the Senior Relations Manager (please note that title) came over and asked Ed to follow him.

Ed made some polite comment about being kept waiting which clearly triggered the Basil Fawlty genes. The man spun round and told Ed if he didn’t be quiet he’d be “thrown out of the bank”. He took him into office and told him to sit down. Ed gently protested at the treatment and was then told to “shut up”.

Clearly they thought he was some English tourist and weren’t really bothered. In fact he has an account at the said bank, his salary is paid in there and his mortgage is through them.

Ed picked up his euros and walked out saying he would take the matter further. Mr Senior Relations Manager pointed at the few cents he’d left on the desk and said not to forget them. The reply?

“You keep them. You’re going to need every cent when you’ve lost your job.”

Classic.

Coffee extended into a leisurely lunch as we discussed the training ‘Basil’ must have gone through and at what point in the customer relations seminar they were told to tell customers to ‘shut up’ and why you introduce ‘I’ll throw you out of the bank’ so early into the meeting.