Dystopia at the airport
A phenomenon that repeats itself every year, punctually, is Aena's disregard for its Mallorcan users. It becomes apparent right after the end of the tourist season: not the following day, because the season closes on October 31st, and the next day is All Saints' Day, a public holiday. But on the first business day after the airport is left without tourists (though this situation is becoming less frequent), the construction work begins, bringing with it inconveniences and disruptions for users. But if these users are residents, locals, native inhabitants, what does this inconvenience and disruption matter? None whatsoever, on the contrary: the construction work aims to improve the airport facilities, and if you have any doubts, this is repeated—in Spanish and English, never in Catalan—on signs you'll find all along your route, both in departures and arrivals.We are working to improve the airport.It should be remembered that the absence of signage in Catalan goes against the Law of Linguistic Normalization and the Statute of Autonomy, and is unacceptable in a public place such as the airport grounds.
Aena earned a net profit of €1,934.2 million from Son Sant Joan Airport in 2024 alone. These spectacular earnings consistently place the Mallorcan airport among the three most profitable in Spain, alongside Barcelona and Madrid, far ahead of the rest. It's worth noting that Mallorca is not the size of Barcelona or Madrid. Furthermore, Son Sant Joan is the airport that, in proportion to the island's capacity, receives the most disproportionate number of passengers (almost twenty times the resident population, which is already the most densely populated in the country: 249 inhabitants per square kilometer, compared to the Spanish average of 97). It is also the airport that is growing at the most unsustainable rate, in order to meet the demands of hoteliers and other businesses in the sector.
In contrast, of the three airports mentioned, only Madrid's receives substantial investment on a regular basis. Adolfo Suárez Madrid-Barajas Airport boasts constantly updated and comfortable facilities, optimally connected to the city and its surroundings, quite the opposite of what happens with El Prat Josep Tarradellas and Son San Juan Rafa Nadal (I know that's not the correct way to say it, thankfully, but there are those who would prefer it and suggest it). The only investment Palma Airport receives is for its constant expansion, which has transformed it into this obviously excessive facility, a tool for overexploitation and speculation on the island's land.
In return, the resident user spends the period from All Saints' Day to Easter having to endure construction both inside and outside the terminal, closed facilities, service restrictions, and absurdly long walks to reach the boarding gates or to exit, with few, if any, incidents, inconveniences, or obstacles. The feeling of walking through a dystopian film set (navigate corridors, halls, conveyor belts, and stairwells under dim lighting, just to get to or from a domestic flight) is matched by the certainty of being the victim of a colossal, blatant, and parasitic rip-off.