For 45 years, Celestino Merino has called his apartment on Carrer Salou in the Sants district home. He built a life with his wife there. Now, at 77, he faces dual heartbreak. Just seven months after becoming a widower, he is fighting an eviction notice from the real estate firm that recently purchased his building.
Your browser does not support the video tag.
“I have lived my whole life here, with her, and now it seems I will have to leave,” Mr. Merino told Catalan newspaper Ara, his eyes welling up. “It will be hard; I will miss the neighbourhood very much.”
Mr. Merino, a retired pastry chef, is the oldest of nearly a dozen long-term tenants across three buildings-one in Sants, another on Carrer Tapioles in Poble-sec, and a third on Carrer Cortines-who face eviction after the investment firm Second House acquired the properties and declined to renew their rental contracts.
A ‘Flipping Operation’
Housing activists argue this is a classic case of real estate speculation. “They want to carry out what we call a ‘flipping’ operation, which is to say, buy cheap, do a minimal renovation, and sell high and fast,” explained Isi, a spokesperson for the Sindicat de Llogateres (Tenants’ Union), which supports the residents.
Rodrigo, an affected resident in the Poble-sec block, highlighted the stark price difference: “They are selling the flats for between €340,000 and €370,000, when we know the valuation places them at €235,000.” He added that online property listings for the flats use computer-generated renderings of post-renovation interiors rather than showing their actual condition.
Despite impeccable rental histories, many tenants are refusing to leave quietly. “I have always paid my rent religiously; I have never had any delays, no debt,” Rodrigo stated. Supported by the union, they have vowed to stay put and negotiate new, fair contracts, drawing inspiration from high-profile tenant struggles like the Casa Orsola case.
Second House, in a statement to Ara, maintained it “always acts in accordance with current regulations on urban leases.” The company stated that contracts had simply reached their legal expiration date and renewal was not obligatory. Nevertheless, it added that it “maintains an attitude of dialogue with tenants” to find solutions.
A City’s Contradiction
The plight of these residents highlights a profound tension at the heart of Barcelona’s housing policy. Even as speculative investment displaces long-term locals, the city grapples with the consequences of its own aggressive move to reclaim housing stock: a plan to eliminate all legal tourist apartment licences by November 2028.
Intended to free up some 10,000 homes for residents and cool rental prices, this policy has sparked fierce backlash from the business community. Apartur, the association of tourist apartments, has launched a high-profile advertising campaign with a stark warning for conference attendees: “Coming to Barcelona for a congress? Prepare to sleep in a stand.”
The campaign, visible at El Prat Airport and Sants Station, argues the move will strip the city of over 50,000 beds, jeopardising its standing as the world’s fourth-ranked city for international conventions. According to a report in ABC Cataluña, Apartur warns this could devastate an industry that brings wealth and prestige, potentially pushing major events and their economic benefits to rival cities.
Legislative Gaps and an Uncertain Future
While the city government focuses on tourist flats-a policy neighbouring Badalona is now emulating-activists argue current legal frameworks are failing to protect tenants like Mr. Merino from local speculative pressure. The Tenants’ Union has criticised a draft law, currently debated in the Catalan Parliament, as “very watered-down.”
“It does not prohibit practises like real estate flipping, nor does it guarantee the renewal of contracts if an entire block is bought by a large landlord,” explained Isi, the union spokesperson. “In other words, if this law came into force today, it would not protect the tenants of the Second House buildings.”
Barcelona finds itself in a difficult position. It attempts to solve its housing shortage with broad-stroke policies that threaten a key economic sector, while simultaneously struggling to plug legislative gaps that allow for the displacement of its most vulnerable long-term residents. The city continues to explore various solutions, from sharing strategies internationally to green-lighting new public housing projects. For residents like Celestino Merino, however, these long-term plans offer little comfort as they face the imminent loss of their homes.
