Saint Julian’s

Saint Julian’s spans approximately 1.6 square kilometres and is home to 13,792 registered inhabitants as of 2020. It occupies a narrow coastal strip on Malta’s eastern seaboard, lying just north of the capital, Valletta, and contiguous with the neighbouring towns of Sliema and Swieqi . This compact town combines a storied past with the rhythms of contemporary Mediterranean life.

The earliest extant records of Saint Julian’s date to the late sixteenth century, when Bishop Tommaso Gargallo noted a modest chapel dedicated to its patron saint. By 1601 the settlement was already identified as Portus Sancti Juliani—“Saint Julian’s port”—an acknowledgment of its sheltered bays and the fishing vessels that clustered in Spinola and Balluta . In 1688, Fra Paolo Raffaele Spinola commissioned a palatial residence at the water’s edge. The ornamented façade and baroque gardens of Spinola Palace were conceived expressly for public enjoyment, inaugurating a phase of coastal reclamation that would shape the town’s built environment for centuries. In 1733, Fra Giovanni Battista Spinola expanded the palace, reinforcing its status as the locus of communal life.

The turn of the nineteenth century brought upheaval. In June 1798 French troops under General Claude Henri Vaubois made landfall in Spinola Bay, marking the first Maltese town to fall during Napoleon’s Mediterranean campaign . Following the French interlude, Saint Julian’s reverted to its tranquil roots. For much of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the town remained a quiet coastal enclave. Fishermen, farmers, and their families dwelt among the limestone terraces and lentisk groves, punctuated by the occasional stately villa.

A formal parish was established in 1891, after six decades of petitions and ecclesiastical debate. Dun Guzepp Scerri became the first parish priest, shepherding a community on the cusp of transformation . The current parish church, designed by Arturo Zammit, began rising from its foundations in 1961. Although unfinished, it hosted its inaugural service in 1968. On 27 May 1990, Pope John Paul II celebrated Mass within its nave, acknowledging the parish’s emergence as a central spiritual gathering point. Across town, the Millennium Chapel—conceived by architect Richard England—opened in 2000. In May 2018, its adjoining meditation garden was dedicated, offering a haven of quiet reflection amid the hum of Paceville.

Geographically, Saint Julian’s is defined by its constellation of small bays and promontories. Spinola Bay, Balluta Bay and St. George’s Bay carve shallow inlets into the limestone coast. The rugged cliffs of Il-Qaliet afford elevated viewpoints over the Mediterranean expanse. The rocky platforms along Spinola and Balluta invite swimmers to descend into crystalline waters via fixed ladders. At St. George’s Bay, imported Jordanian sand creates a rare sandy beach, its gentle slope appealing to families; a modest expanse, yet unmistakably a refuge from the hard rock of the Maltese shore. Visitors are mindful to wear protective footwear, for the submerged outcrops host sea urchins and hidden crevices.

By the mid-twentieth century, Saint Julian’s was poised for rapid change. Hotels rose along the waterfront, while international investors greenlit apartment towers. The Portomaso Business Tower, completed in the early 2000s, briefly stood as Malta’s tallest building. Today the Mercury Tower, still under construction, will surpass its predecessor in height, a testament to the town’s evolving skyline. These glass-clad structures overlook the older neighborhoods of Ta’ Ġiorni, Tal-Għoqod and St Andrew’s, which retain narrow lanes and low-rise dwellings.

The district known as Paceville anchors the town’s leisure economy. From dawn’s first light, housekeeping staff prepare hotel corridors; by afternoon, terraces and cafés bustle with patrons. When evening falls, neon lights trace the edges of nightclubs, bars and casinos. Bowling alleys and small cinemas provide alternatives to dance floors. Despite the nocturnal crescendos, the community preserves quieter rhythms: clergy of the Millennium Chapel welcome parishioners for daily mass, and residents stroll the promenade that knits Saint Julian’s to Sliema.

Cuisine here reflects both tradition and cosmopolitan flair. As a former fishing village, the town maintains a devotion to freshly caught fish. Small outlets along Spinola Bay serve grilled sea bream and lampuka pie. The area also features a concentration of Italian trattorie and pizzerie: Peppino’s, nestled beside an old chapel, offers Italian and French-inspired menus; Piccolo Padre combines Neapolitan-style pizzas with modestly priced fillets of meat and fish. Generations of Maltese recall family suppers al fresco, the skyline’s tapering church spires framed by the glowing calm of the bay.

Cultural festivities animate the calendar. The principal feast of Saint Julian, observed on 12 February in the post-liturgical calendar, is supplemented by a summer celebration on the last Sunday of August. Processions wind through decorated streets, the statue of the patron carried aloft amid incense and brass-band strains. Two rituals hold particular local resonance. Participants in the ġostra contest attempt to traverse a greased wooden pole sloping above the sea, vying to seize one of three dangling flags—each conferring a distinct prize. In another spectacle, Hunters—descendants of the city’s namesake Julian the Hospitaller—fire blank musket salutes from the parish church roof, their thunderous volleys echoing the town’s martial heritage.

Throughout its history, Saint Julian’s has grappled with the trade-offs inherent in growth. In 2020, plans to establish a tourist ferry point within Balluta Bay met with objections from residents, the local council and environmental groups. The proposal was criticized for its potential to disrupt marine habitats and obstruct the shoreline’s visual harmony. Such debates underscore the community’s commitment to preserving the character of its coastal landscape even as it embraces the dynamism of tourism.

Saint Julian’s remains a town of contrasts. It is at once intimate in scale and international in outlook; ancient in its chapels and avant-garde in its high-rise ambitions; serene along its bays and exhilarating within its entertainment hub. Its limestone streets bear the footprints of seventeenth-century pilgrims, eighteenth-century dignitaries, nineteenth-century villagers, and twenty-first-century sightseers. Yet, amid these layers, the enduring presence of sea and stone, chapel and palazzo, feast and festival, forges a unity that transcends eras. In Saint Julian’s, the Mediterranean is never far from view, and the rhythms of human community—measured in waves, exultations and quiet reverence—remain steadfast.