The economic development of the 1960s encouraged many residents of inland towns to settle in coastal developments to enjoy the summers. ARA Baleares spoke with some who were able to and others who weren't.
PalmWith the boom In the 1960s, our coast began to be colonized not only by hotels but also by housing developments. The emerging consumer society of the time allowed some families to build a second home on the seashore, a place that, curiously, had been feared for centuries as a gateway to epidemics and pirates. The democratization of the car, a symbol of freedom and modernity, facilitated family travel along the coast.
The one who was left wanting to enjoy this new trend was 64-year-old Inquera resident Caterina Valriu. Today, she is a professor of Catalan Philology and General Linguistics at the UIB. "My older sister and I were never able to spend the summer. My parents ran a butcher shop. They couldn't afford to lock it up in the summer. They also had a farm with animals that had to be fed every day." However, there was one tragic event that marked the family's relationship with the sea: "Our brother died in denial on a beach in Colonia Sant Jordi when he was 14. I was 7 at the time. At home, they didn't want us to go back to the beach."
Before the boom In the tourist area, Inca had already seen shoemakers and doctors with summer homes, especially in the Pollença and Alcudia areas. Since the late 19th century, a number of medical schools had been established among the aristocracy in Europe, claiming the therapeutic effects of salt water and sunbathing. In the mid-1970s, it was the turn of more humble classes. "They were teachers," Valriu notes, "office workers and merchants who had prospered thanks to their businesses. The changing times encouraged them to build a villa or buy an apartment on the coast. At the end of the course, I was bawling my eyes out in a corner when I saw friends of mine driving to Al Barcarès, in Alcudia. I didn't have any for two months. I just prayed they'd invite me to spend a few days with them."
Images of the Alorda family spending their summers at the Barcarès house in the 1970s.Arxiu Joana AlordaImages of the Alorda family spending their summers at the Barcarès house in the 1970s.Arxiu Joana Alorda
Being alone, the summers in Inca seemed very long. "Mostly only the peninsulars remained. Today, the same is true of the North Africans. Back then, there were no summer schools. My friends, on the other hand, could frequent the nightclubs that began to open in the coastal towns." The term "Rodríguez" became popular in 1964 following the release of the film Mr. Rodriguez's warm summer, performed by José Luis López Vázquez. It referred to the married man who stayed to work while the family was away on vacation. Throughout the year, the house by the sea continued to be used on weekends. "On Friday afternoons, a very typical image was seeing married couples loading their 600 little baskets to leave for Alcúdia or Can Picafort. The mothers, who were mostly housewives, already had everything ready. Sometimes they would go directly to pick up the children."
That new lifestyle marked social status in Inca. "It was the time of the first municipal swimming pools. It was a way for the town councils to bring the sea closer to the towns. Before then, there were already restaurants that had that as an attraction"
Joana Alorda, 60, from Sa Pobla, was able to enjoy summers by the sea. "After school, my two sisters and I moved into a house that my godfather built in 1955 in Barcarès. It had two floors. We stayed with our paternal cousins until September. We only returned to Sa Pobla at the end of July, for the Sant Jaume festivities. I remember having to sleep with the windows wide open."
Alorda felt privileged to be able to live like the protagonists of Blue Summer, the successful TVE series from the 1980s that chronicled the summer adventures of a group of young people in a town near Málaga. "In my group, I was one of the few who had a second home. This meant that I had another group of friends in Barcarès, the summer ones. It was a microcosm of people mainly from Sa Pobla and Inca. We were out all day, playing games and without cell phones. Tourists barely left the two hotels nearby."
These changes brought about by the new consumer society greatly surprised the children of the post-war period, born during the so-called "hunger years." This is the case of 77-year-old researcher Antoni Tugores from Manacor. "As a child, I only went to the seaside occasionally. Back then, cars hadn't become popular, and my father, who worked as a flour miller, would take the whole family in his car to swim in Cala Anguila or Cala Varques. And we wouldn't find anyone there. That's unimaginable today."
Images of the Alorda family spending their summers at the Barcarès house in the 1970s.Arxiu Joana Alorda
Starting in the 1960s, Mallorca's eastern coast began to become more democratic. "Thanks to the extra wages from the pearl workers, many people from Manacor were able to buy a plot of land at a good price on the Islet and, above all, in Portocristo, where the wealthy class already had monumental villas at the beginning of the 20th century. Villafranqueros and Carrioneros also lived on the Islet. The Spetrers, on the other hand." The houses built by this new generation were very simple ground floors. "They usually built them themselves, without the help of a master builder. Back then, people knew how to do everything, even stonemasonry. And if not, they would call a friend who was."
Austerity
Despite having a second home, household finances required them to live a frugal life. "The summer move also meant moving the mattresses and the television. The families couldn't afford to buy new ones. Settling on the coast all summer also meant giving up certain comforts of their home in Manacor," says Tugores. The godmothers played a very important role in that new life. modus vivendi. "Since the pearl workers didn't have two months of vacation, they would drive to work in Manacor in the morning, leaving the children in their care."
The seaside had the added attraction of being able to play with friends on the beach. We went fishing and looking for crabs. I well remember the spectacle of witnessing the ox boats entering the port." the hotel, while on the street everyone was enjoying the fresh air." In the midst of that oasis of slow life without digital distractions, there would come a boom in hotel-based music groups like Los Cinco del Este, who became famous in Cala Millor. "Their concerts were not lacking in the famous picadors, always on the lookout for the 'suencas' in Can Picafort."
The researcher is amazed at how times have changed. "Today, no family considers owning a second home. They can barely afford one, earning two salaries. Economically, thanks to their presence, the town's San Jaime festivities have revived in recent years." This new paradigm shift occurs amid a significant demographic change. Over the last century, Mallorca's population has tripled. From 300,000 inhabitants, it has grown to nearly one million. "We're living in a state of despoiled territory. I never would have imagined reaching this point."
Beginning in the 1960s, during the development era, the term "domingueros" became very popular in Spain. It referred to the working classes who traveled by car to areas near cities on Sundays to enjoy their leisure time. In the Balearic Islands, they were those who went to the beach because they didn't have a second home. This was the case with the family of journalist Laura Jurado, 40. "My parents," she says, "are from a town in Seville. In the early 1970s, they settled in Palma, where they already had friends from the town working. My father found work as a driver for a decoration company, and my mother as a cleaner. I was born here."
Jurado remembers the summers of his childhood very well. "None of my classmates had a house by the sea. My father, because of his job, was driving every day. At least, when the weekend came, he didn't want to drive again. Sometimes, though, we managed to get a ride to Santa Ponça. From Monday to Friday, we spent as much time as we could in Palma."
The journalist acknowledges that her family fit the typical Sunday-goer paradigm. "We would settle down in the shade of a pine forest, bring out the camping tables and chairs, the radio, the ice cream, and the capers. The siestas were unforgettable. In the afternoon, we would return to the house in Palma to shower, just like my older sister did. It's a real treat."
The term "dominguero" is a stigmatized, often ridiculed word that was coined from the elitist perspective of the wealthy classes. "It's also a term," the journalist asserts, "but it's an endearing label that refers to working-class families who tried to enjoy the sea in a humble way. In our case, we only acted as Sunday people in July. In August, we left for my parents' town in Seville to spend the entire month. There, we went to the pool every day, rather than going to the beach." At 16, my first contact with the microcosm of summer homes came. "For a few days, I went to Portocolom to babysit for the children of a friend of my sister. It was great. For me, that was another world."