When the Benches Become a Bar: Residents Sound the Alarm on the Paseo Marítimo

When the Benches Become a Bar: Nights on the Paseo Marítimo

The question many residents in Palma now ask themselves is simple: who is supposed to step in here? Since the last warm evenings the Paseo Marítimo: Residents Take Stock – From Promenade Boulevard to a Nighttime Problem. Not only walkers and couples stroll along the waterline — groups with loud music, cardboard boxes and beer or bottle residues sit on the promenade benches. This is documented in Paseo Marítimo: Trash, Noise and the Smell of Urine – How Much Nightlife Can the Promenade Handle?. Officially: no sale of to-go alcohol after 10 p.m. In reality, however, complaints include receipts with times like 11:05 p.m. or 11:40 p.m. — tangible evidence that residents are now collecting.

From Receipts to Protest: Residents Take Action

“We're tired of cleaning up,” says María Santos, who runs a small residents' association on the corner of Av. Argentina. Her list includes not only times and shop addresses but also photos of abandoned bottles, pizza boxes and wet wipes. The idea of collecting receipts themselves seems pragmatic: if the administration does not respond, the documents should create pressure. On the streets around Calle Portixol neighbors report night-time purchases, young people mixing drinks with energy drinks and the constant smell of alcohol in the warm sea air.

Structural Problem: Who Owns the Promenade?

A core problem is less the alcohol itself than the fragmentation of responsibility. Parts of the waterfront belong to the port authority, others to the municipality. The result: enforcement gaps, and inspections are often dismissed as “not our area.” Business owners, for their part, argue that they sold before 10 p.m. — sometimes that may be true, but repeated violations of the curfew raise questions: Are there no clear penalties? Not enough staff? Or a lack of coordination between port police, city police and the public order office? The issue is highlighted by reports on the promenade's refurbishment in Paseo Marítimo: Big Spending, Little Everyday Usefulness, which note investments but limited everyday usefulness.

What Is Often Overlooked

Several aspects are missing from the public debate: first, the economic logic of some shops that attract customers with late sales. Second, the social consequences for residents — sleep loss, fear of escalation, and the longer-term displacement of those who seek quiet nights. Third, the health risks, as outlined in the WHO fact sheet on alcohol: mixed drinks with energy drinks, alcohol consumption by minors and early signs that night-time groups more frequently get into conflicts. And finally the purely physical effect: less cleanliness, benches with lingering smells and damaged seating surfaces after some nights.

Concrete Demands from the Neighborhood

The residents' list is surprisingly pragmatic: regular checks after 10 p.m., a binding exchange between port and city police, clear sanctions up to temporary closure for repeat offenders and visible signs that unambiguously explain the curfew. Some propose evening patrols by volunteers — not as a replacement for the police, but as observers who document incidents. Such citizen initiatives can create pressure, yet legal experts warn: volunteers must not intervene themselves.

What a Solution Could Look Like

Rather than isolated hard cases, a coordinated package of measures would make sense: temporary reinforcement of controls during the summer months, clear rules in shop licenses (e.g. automatic shutdown of cash registers after 10 p.m.), mandatory seller training on youth protection, more bins and nightly cleaning rounds as well as a binding memorandum between the port authority and the municipality. Digital tools can also help: a hotline for documented offenses, an online form to upload receipts and a map of problem areas.

Between Everyday Life and Politics

Last night, around 11:15 p.m., a streetlight flickered, a dog barked in the courtyards, and three people sat on a bench with beer cans. No one was aggressive, the sea whispered softly — and yet the litter was enough to explain the frustration. The residents' message is clear: it's not about bans per se, but about enforcement and responsibility. If the Paseo Marítimo is to remain a place where residents and visitors feel comfortable, it will take more than appeals. It requires clear rules, graduated sanctions and — surprisingly important — agreements that work across jurisdictional boundaries.

The tangible argument of the receipts shows: residents are willing to put in the work. The question for the authorities remains: are they finally ready to act just as consistently?