SOON TOURISTS WILL ONLY PHOTOGRAPH EACH OTHER IN MALTA
By Anna Marie
In the run-up to the election, neither PL nor PN has called for fewer tourists or admitted overtourism as a crisis. Labour highlights regulatory improvements and record figures. The PN pushes tax relief for restaurants and indirect quality-of-life fixes.
Tranquillity has become a rare luxury in Malta. Overtourism is eroding the very culture and peace that once defined Malta.
For decades, our politicians have preached the gospel of tourism. Citizens were told, year after year, that more visitors meant more jobs, more money, more progress. Billboards, speeches, and school lessons reinforced the message. No government dared question the endless rise in numbers. Each new record was hailed as victory. Ministers patted themselves on the back while cruise ships grew larger and Airbnbs multiplied.
The result is plain to see. We have choking crowds in Valletta, Sliema, and Gozo. Beaches that once offered calm now resemble car parks. Rents have soared beyond the reach of young Maltese families. Noise never stops. Locals retreat behind closed shutters.
Local shop owners feel the strain daily. The grocer used to know all the customers by name. Now it’s just groups rushing through, buying water and leaving. They don’t stop to chat. The soul of the place is gone. Tourists are good for business, but too many ruin everything. As the owner of a souvenir shop put it, the rent has doubled in five years. Maltese families can’t afford to live in the floors above him anymore. He sells the same plastic junk every day while the real Malta disappears.
Yet admitting the problem remains unthinkable. Suggesting limits on tourist numbers is treated like heresy. It is akin to telling an overweight nation it must slim down, cut down on its pastizzi. This would be politically dangerous and emotionally uncomfortable. Both political parties remain trapped in the old script. More tourists equal success. Fewer would mean failure. So the machine grinds on.
The cost is already visible in brick and stone. Historic sites face new pressures. The old barracks at Fort Chambray in Gozo stand as a warning. Built in the 19th century, these fine military buildings now risk being swallowed by yet another hotel or holiday apartment block. If development continues unchecked, such treasures will vanish. Malta will trade its past for concrete and profit.
What will remain for future visitors? Stripped of authentic culture and historic depth, the islands may offer little beyond crowded restaurants and overpriced plates of tourist food. The very things that drew people here, such as the quiet charm, the layered history, the sense of discovery, will have disappeared.
Malta does not need to reject tourism. It needs to manage it with honesty and courage. A cap on daily arrivals, stricter rules on short-term rentals, and protection for heritage sites are not radical ideas. They are common sense. Without them, the islands risk killing the golden goose and losing their soul in the process, until nothing authentic is left to sell.