Sushi Instead of a Disco: ROKA Moves into the Former Pachá on the Paseo Marítimo

Sushi Instead of a Disco: ROKA Moves into the Former Pachá on the Paseo Marítimo

In the early morning, when the first fishermen arrange their nets at the harbour and seagulls screech over the Paseo Marítimo, construction vehicles now stand where disco balls once reflected on the water. Men with coffee cups study plans, metal fences mark the site. The Japanese restaurant chain ROKA has announced it will transform the former Pachá into a ROKA restaurant with a robatayaki grill. After a summer pop-up in the northeast of Mallorca, the concept is now being anchored in Palma: high-quality sushi combined with a robatayaki grill.

The central question

How does the conversion of a once-noisy club into a top restaurant change everyday life for the neighbourhood and the face of the harbour promenade? This is more than a question of taste — it is about noise, traffic, local jobs, tourism quality and a small dose of identity politics: What role should Palma play in the future — party capital, gourmet destination, or both?

What is planned

ROKA is not bringing a mere sushi bar but a hybrid offer: fine fish dishes, nigiri, sashimi and grilled specialties from the robatayaki. International management, elegant interior design, high standards in equipment — these are the keywords. The old neon signs have been removed, craftsmen are laying cables, and the city is still reviewing permits. No concrete opening date has been given; internally it is only “soon”.

Voices from the neighbourhood

At the baker's around the corner people listen half-heartedly into their espresso cups. Some residents welcome the change: less nighttime noise, more stylish guests, new jobs for service staff. Others remember nights with bass and long queues, and now fear a new form of gentrification — higher rents, a changed clientele, a piece of urban diversity that is shifting.

On a walk along the waterfront, passersby stop, look over the barriers and exchange guesses. An old dockworker shakes his head: “The music is gone, now comes the wasabi.” A young waiter from a nearby restaurant is happy: “More guests, more work — we need that.”

Underestimated consequences

Less noise in the evenings is good — yet many consequences are more complicated. A top restaurant attracts other service providers: suppliers, upscale wine merchants, possibly exclusive taxis. That changes traffic flows on an already narrow harbour road. In addition, the question remains how sustainable procurement will be: will fresh fish come from local markets or will long supply chains be built?

Another point: historical patterns of city use. Clubs have given Palma a certain nightlife profile for decades; see Concession at the Paseo Marítimo: End of the Floating Disco? If such spaces are increasingly converted into fine dining venues, the balance between tourist scenes and residents' interests shifts. Not inherently bad, but a change that should be managed.

Concrete opportunities and approaches

More can be made of the construction site than just good food. Some suggestions that could build trust among all parties involved:

Transparent construction and operating hours: Clear rules for delivery times and waste disposal reduce nighttime disturbances. Truck access should be outside peak hours.

Joint noise protection measures: Good sound insulation inside and discreet exterior lighting protect residents without taking away the restaurant's charm.

Local supply chains: Prioritizing local fishermen and markets reduces transport emissions and strengthens the local economy.

Job guarantees: Training partnerships with catering schools on the island and a binding proportion of local hires would create concrete benefits.

Dialogue forum: A neighbourhood advisory board with the operator, city administration and residents can resolve problems early — from parking to special events.

What this means for Palma

The investment shows: Palma remains a magnet for gastronomy brands. That is a compliment to the city, but also a call to set the framework wisely. Quieter evenings, new jobs and a more attractive waterfront — these are opportunities. The loss of certain night cultures and the risk of a one-sided upscale transformation are the flip side.

For the people in the area this means: have a say. The construction site and diggers are the beginning, not the end of the debate. When the doors open, it should not be only for international guests, but also for the people who still drink their coffee on the promenade in the morning and watch the change closely.

And who knows — maybe a loud club night will soon end with a quiet dessert stroll by the water. The seagulls will hardly taste the wasabi.