Money for sand: Who profits from Palma's beaches — and who gets left behind?

Money for sand: Who profits from Palma's beaches — and who gets left behind?

I stood early yesterday on the Paseo Marítimo, the fish are still in the pan, a delivery van rattles on the curb, and somewhere on the horizon the sea quietly keeps its beat. Between stacks of sunbeds and bins a simple question grows: How should Palma handle around six million euros in annual beach revenues so that everyone benefits — and not just the coffers fill up while the coastline wears down?

The city itself provides the figures: the town hall expects around €6.1 million per year until 2029 — see Who Owns Palma's Coast? Six Million Euros, New Sports Areas and Who Pays the Price. The biggest items: rental of sunbeds and umbrellas (just over four million), concessions for beach bars and kiosks, parking and special uses for events. The money is real; you can see it in the plans: away from the traditional blue sunbeds toward lighter tones, plus new sports areas at Playa de Palma and Ciudad Jardín.

The bill that rarely appears on the receipt

The official logic is simple: more offerings, longer stays, more revenue for operators and the city. But this is where the grey area begins. Existing concession contracts are often long-term and non-transparent — a concern detailed in Palma awards beach concessions 2026–2029: millions, rules and sand loss. Who holds the rights to which stretch? How much of the revenue really goes into cleaning, beach protection or local infrastructure? These questions have been negotiated confidentially so far, not at a café table on Cala Major.

Economically speaking, the coast is a scarce but lucrative public space. Instead of treating it solely as a source of income, Palma should steer it more: price caps for sunbeds, dynamic fees depending on the season, mandatory reserves for dune protection and regular cleaning — especially relevant as Why Palma is raising beach prices — who ultimately pays the surcharge? shows the pressure on users. Without such rules, there is a risk of redistributing commons into profits — a neighbor on the promenade is skeptical: 'Looks nicer, yes — but if the kiosk is closed for six months of the year, what good does that do us?'

What is missing from the public debate

First: the environmental costs. More events, more sports areas, more people — that creates pressure on seagrass meadows, dunes and local species. So far ecological compensation measures are often piecemeal. Second: the distribution of profits. Small local operators complain that larger concessionaires dominate spaces. Third: working conditions. Seasonal workers on the beaches often earn little and work long shifts — this remains invisible in the figures.

An old man from Playa de Palma put it dryly: 'White looks fancier, but why isn't it clearly written down who collects the rubbish and who pays for it?' That kind of desire for transparency sounds more like local pragmatism than protest; recent reporting on surcharges highlights similar worries in the community, see Price shock at Playa de Palma: Who pays for the beach?.

Concrete opportunities and realistic solutions

The city has room to act. Some suggestions that could be implemented immediately and be effective locally:

Earmarking: Deposit at least 30 percent of beach revenues into a dedicated maintenance and nature protection fund. That builds trust and visible results — more cleaning, dune stabilization, access for locals.

Transparent concession awards: Shorter terms, mandatory social and environmental criteria in tenders, publication of all contracts online. This can limit the dominance of individual providers.

Local participation: A citizens' forum 'Beach & City' with residents, small operators and environmental experts that reviews budget proposals annually — including co-determination on events and noise times.

Social standards: Minimum wages for seasonal staff, clear working hours, transparent tip management. Those who work on the beach should fairly benefit from the revenues.

This is not a utopia. It only needs political will, a bit of administrative courage and a few more people on the Paseo in the morning who start asking instead of just lying down.

What matters now

Palma stands at a small crossroads: either the city uses the six million to strengthen beach quality, nature protection and the local economy — or the coast is upgraded while users hardly benefit. The white sunbeds may look smarter; without clear rules they often remain just a pretty make-up for structural problems.

In the coming weeks I will watch the early delivery vans more often, continue conversations with beach vendors and try to bring voices out from the shadows of the concession contracts. Meeting point remains the Paseo, around eight in the morning — bring your own coffee. And anyone who wants to: come by, so we can together spell out what our beach should become.