The party is over, the market remains restless: Son Espanyolet after the sale of the holiday villas

The party is over, the market remains restless: Son Espanyolet after the sale of the holiday villas

Who really benefits when holiday villas disappear from a residential neighbourhood?

Early on a Saturday morning in Son Espanyolet the air still smells of freshly baked pa de vidre, the clatter of coffee cups comes from the little bakery in the side street, and the garbage truck rumbles down Mas Street. It was precisely here that a curiously loud episode recently ended: a Norwegian investor turned what had been a quiet ensemble of terraced houses into something like a horizontal hotel – with pools, noisy guests and several ETV licences. Now, after massive pressure from the neighbourhood, the company is parting with the remaining holiday accommodations. But is that really the end of the problem?

The facts are succinct: the company Alzina Living currently offers only two villas for sale in Son Espanyolet – the property known as Villa Son Mas with an asking price of three million euros and Villa Sant Josep, listed at 2.6 million euros. According to the advertisement, both properties have valid tourist licences (ETV) for larger groups. Anyone who knows the streets of the district knows: such licences are rare and therefore coveted.

The neighbourhood association, represented by Ferràn Aguiló, watches the development with scepticism. He recalls how the Norwegian buyer in 2018 acquired numerous houses in one go, carried out conversions and created accommodation capacity for well over a hundred guests – including a central kitchen, a reception area and infrastructure that made the operation possible like a resort. The town hall intervened; today only two tourist properties remain in the portfolio. At the same time, however, the investor has changed his business strategy: he is now building terraced single-family homes that cost well over a million euros. Many houses on Mas Street are currently being offered for sale.

The key question is: does the sale of the villas end the burden on residents – or does it only mark the beginning of the next phase of displacement? The real winners are not automatically the local community. A brief reality check reveals several risks: capitalised profits from rapid buy-ups and subsequent sales push property prices even higher. Buyers can be hedge funds, investment companies or individual investors with no ties to the neighbourhood. And even if short-term holiday rentals decline, residential offers at luxury prices follow, changing the social structure.

What is often missing in the public debate are reliable figures on changes of ownership, transparent information about ETV licences in neighbourhoods like Son Espanyolet and clear statements on how municipal planning regulates the conversion of residential space into tourist use and subsequently into expensive condominiums. Also rarely visible is the role that booking platforms and real estate listings play in creating these short-term business models.

A simple everyday scene makes the problem tangible: on a mild evening residents sit on the steps in front of their houses, hear the distant hum of a tourist taxi and try to talk about rising additional costs. Those who grew up here still remember neighbours who lived in a house all their lives that is now on the market for twice the price. The feeling is not only financial; it is an emotional loss of the neighbourhood.

What could be done to limit these effects can be summarised in a few pragmatic proposals: first, a more transparent register of owners at municipal level that shows who is buying and selling properties. Second, a moratorium-like review of ETV licences in densely populated residential areas, complemented by a cap on new tourist permits. Third, binding minimum requirements for noise, monitoring and local contacts, plus a digital mediation office for recurring disturbances. Fourth, fiscal incentives or surcharges that make short-term speculation less profitable, and fifth, targeted support for non-profit housing so that middle-income residents can remain in the neighbourhood.

Of course, measures must be legally secure and comply with Spanish and Balearic law. Nevertheless: without political will and local instruments to steer changes of use, the cycle of buy-up, conversion, sale and displacement remains intact. You can see that in the many listings now filling the portals – prices in the millions rarely emphasise the consequences for everyday urban life.

In conclusion: the withdrawal of a noisy landlord is not a victory for the neighbourhood as long as the mechanics of profit and speculation continue. Son Espanyolet needs rules, controls and a stable plan to preserve its residential structure. Otherwise the quiet residential area will remain an attractive target for investors who profit from conversions and new prices – while the street corners that smell of coffee and where children still play on the pavement gradually lose their mix of everyday life and neighbourhood.

Conclusion: The party is over, but the market music keeps playing. Without clear local answers Son Espanyolet faces the next tempo change – and residents will face financial as well as social consequences.