Although state statistics speak of a global decrease in sales by foreigners in recent months, in the Balearic Islands the reality is quite different: according to the latest data from the Ministry of Housing and Urban Agenda, in 2025 these citizens acquired four out of every ten properties over €500,000 sold. A proportion that doubles any figure from other autonomous communities.

A few days ago, the president of the employers' association of real estate developers in the Balearic Islands recommended that young people start saving 300 euros a month to be able to access, in five years, the thousands of limited-price homes that are planned to be built in Palma. The news, at first glance, even seems hopeful. Finally, a residential solution could begin to open up for part of the resident population. And it is probably true that many of these developments will be necessary. It is also true that without formulas like limited-price housing, a significant portion of residents could no longer aspire today to access housing in the current market. But behind this promise there is a question that is hard to ignore: what will happen during these five years? And, above all: who will build these homes?

The historic Café Gijón, open since 1888 on Madrid's Paseo de Recoletos, has been acquired by the Cappuccino Group and has closed for a few months, until January, although the new owner "will retain the essence that has accompanied it throughout its history." This was announced on its website by the real estate consultancy firm Busquets Gálvez, which advised on the transfer process from the Escamilla family, until now owners of the historic literary café, to the Cappuccino Group, which manages other venues, restaurants, and hotels in the Balearic Islands, the Iberian Peninsula, and Switzerland.

The former family home built by the pedagogue, teacher, and politician Guillem Cifre de Colonya in the early 20th century, located in the privileged Colonya Valley (Pollença), has gone on sale for €3.2 million through a British real estate agency.

The tourist overcrowding in Sóller and the arrival of thousands of foreigners year after year has led some of them to decide to buy homes in the town. According to sources from SOS Sóller, there are about twenty real estate agencies in the vicinity of the town square. At the time of writing, the cheapest house listed on the Idealista website costs €255,000, but it only has 52 square meters. It's a third-floor apartment with no elevator. In this context of neighborhood tension due to the problems that Sóller's reputation entails, a local real estate agency has celebrated selling a house to a resident. Real estate agency Tolo Oliver has hung a sign in a window of the residence, which reads: "Sold to people from Sóller, as it should be."

Real estate agencies are dream factories: like Hollywood, but smaller. Or we can consider them, depending on how you look at it, a first step toward living the way Hollywood stars are supposed to. It's curious that, in the age of social media and algorithms, real estate agency windows still display photos of the type they sell: houses, apartments, and building plots (an adjective that has lost much of its meaning because now almost all of them are buildable). But these windows must be effective, because they achieve what they want, which is to attract attention. This is at least the effect they give when we see people stop in front of these windows and open their eyes for a while, sometimes for a long time, in front of the advertisements, which are generally A4 sheets hung on the glass with a suction cup. The sheets in question usually have a printed photo, as well as the main details of the property for sale: location, square footage, room layout (if there is more than one, per room), amenities (if there are any in the house or in the area), and, of course, what everyone wants to see, what everyone wants to know and understand: the price. And this is where a truly important change has occurred.

One million and a few hundred is what it will cost Inmobiliaria Formentor to have demolished an iconic building, the Formentor Hotel, without a permit. And not only that: immediately afterward, the construction of the new building was carried out from scratch, for which it also lacked a permit.