Lorraine Williamson
Across Spain’s coastline, thousands of families are living with the looming threat of eviction — not from landlords or banks, but from the government itself. A staggering 86,000 homes, many built decades ago, now fall within Spain’s increasingly contested protected coastal zone, known as the dominio público marítimo-terrestre (DPMT).
These properties — nestled in scenic beachside towns from Andalucia to Galicia — could face demolition if they’re found to breach the state’s tight environmental rules.
It’s a legal limbo triggered by the country’s 1988 Coastal Law, a landmark piece of legislation designed to keep Spain’s shores in public hands. But with climate change driving up sea levels and pushing coastlines inland, the definition of “too close to the sea” is changing fast. And that’s leaving once-safe properties exposed — legally, financially and physically.
Thousands of buildings, 67km² of legal grey area
Investigative platform Newtral found more than 86,000 homes and over 9,700 non-residential buildings — including shops, offices, and even public buildings — now fall within the state-protected zone. Combined, they cover around 67 square kilometres of coastal land. Many of these structures were built at a time when planning laws were loosely enforced and seaside development flourished with few checks.
Today, the state has the legal authority to reclaim that land. And in many cases, that means tearing buildings down.
Law versus legacy: What the 1988 Coastal Law means today
The Coastal Law was introduced to safeguard public access to Spain’s coastline, restore damaged areas, and prevent future overdevelopment. It empowers the state to take back control of coastal areas deemed at risk — often by refusing to renew concessions (temporary land-use permits) or simply ordering demolitions.
In theory, concessions allow homeowners to continue using their properties for a set period — usually up to 75 years — even if they lie within protected zones. But many buildings never had one. Others had permits that expired years ago. Without them, owners are on borrowed time.
In Guardamar del Segura in Alicante, two beachfront commercial properties were demolished earlier this year for exactly this reason. Meanwhile, residents in Playa Babilonia are fighting to save low-rise homes built on a 1934 concession, which expired in 2018. The beach there has eroded so badly that some homes now sit just metres from the sea. Locals insist the state did little to protect the beach — and argue it’s unjust to now blame them for the damage.
Climate change brings urgency — and tension
The backdrop to this escalating conflict is climate change. Higher tides, storm surges, and beach erosion are becoming the new normal. Environmental consultant Alberto Vizcaíno López warns that some properties are no longer safe. “If the sea reaches built-up areas, the only real option may be demolition,” he explains.
He’s not alone in sounding the alarm. Lawyer Inmaculada Yáñez, a specialist in coastal law, points to human negligence as another accelerant — citing the absence of breakwaters and loss of protective sand dunes as factors that make these homes more vulnerable.
That growing vulnerability also gives legal weight to state intervention, says Yáñez. “It provides the perfect excuse to act.”
Valencia beach erosion
Reform on the table — but will it help?
Spain’s Partido Popular has tabled a proposal to ease the Coastal Law, aiming to shield long-established homes from demolition. But legal and environmental experts alike say the changes will likely have little real impact. Yáñez notes the reform applies mainly to a handful of historic properties. Vizcaíno López is even more blunt, calling the draft “cosmetic” at best.
Shifting lines, mounting anxiety
One of the most unsettling aspects for property owners is the fluid nature of the boundaries. A home built legally and safely decades ago can find itself reclassified almost overnight if the government redraws the DPMT line. Once within the zone, homeowners face a bureaucratic uphill battle to appeal — and there’s no guarantee they’ll win.
With more redraws expected due to climate models and new satellite mapping, the anxiety is spreading fast along Spain’s shores. Thousands of residents now live in a strange state of suspended ownership — technically on public land, but still responsible for their homes, their taxes, and in some cases, their demolition costs.
What this means for coastal living in Spain
For anyone dreaming of a beachfront escape in Spain, the message is clear: know where you stand — literally. A sea view may be priceless, but in Spain, it might also come with a countdown clock.