Amid record-breaking tourist arrivals and eye-watering spending figures, a growing number of Spaniards are asking whether the holiday rental boom is cannibalising their access to affordable housing.
With new regulation on the way and a summer surge in bookings looming, the clash between tourism economics and residential needs is intensifying—and shows no signs of being resolved any time soon.
A record-breaking year—for better or worse
Spain shattered its own tourism record in 2024, welcoming 94 million foreign visitors who collectively spent a historic €126 billion. All signs suggest 2025 will be another bumper year, with expectations to exceed 100 million visitors. But as the tourist tide rises, so do complaints of economic displacement and housing unaffordability, particularly in hot spots like Madrid, Barcelona, Valencia, and Málaga.
The explosion in tourist rentals is staggering. According to Exceltur, tourist-use properties have been growing at an annual rate of 17.5%, and over 20% in cities like Córdoba and Alicante. That’s a lot of properties leaving the long-term rental market and entering the more lucrative, less-regulated world of short-term stays.
Shadow rentals and rising scrutiny
The boom in tourist accommodation hasn’t come without baggage. Illegally operated rentals are now a serious concern among policymakers and industry leaders alike. In response, Spain is rolling out a new regulation requiring all tourist and seasonal rentals to register and carry a unique identification number. Platforms like Airbnb will be required to delist non-compliant properties within 48 hours and submit monthly activity reports.
But not everyone is thrilled. Airbnb’s public policy chief for Spain and Portugal, Sara Rodríguez, warns the new system is bureaucratically convoluted and risks creating confusion with multiple registration numbers required for the same property, depending on its use. “Instead of clarity, there is complexity,” she laments.
Still, many housing activists and local officials argue it’s a step in the right direction. Andrea Jarabo of Provivienda stresses that strong inspection and enforcement mechanisms are key. Without teeth, she argues, the regulation risks becoming another paper tiger, unable to dent the illegal rental market or protect residential access.
What’s really behind rising rents?
The real bone of contention is the rent hike across Spanish cities. Airbnb is quick to argue that short-term rentals only make a negligible difference to prices. A report it commissioned from PwC claims short-term lets were responsible for just 0.3% of rising housing costs between 2018 and 2023. They’re barely a blip, according to that narrative.
However, independent academic research paints a far less rosy picture. A study by the University of Málaga found that in areas where tourist rentals make up more than 10% of the housing supply, rents increase by 31–33% more than in surrounding neighbourhoods. Every 10% rise in tourist flat density raises prices by another €3.29 per square metre.
There’s also the matter of what economists call “opportunity loss.” According to data cited by Fotocasa, 9% of tourist landlords previously offered long-term rentals—and around 25% of those who still do are considering jumping ship when their current leases expire. When a quarter of rental housing stock threatens to vanish into the holiday market, it’s no wonder rents in central urban areas are boiling over.
Too few homes, too many loopholes
It’s not just a tourist rental issue, of course. Spain isn’t building enough homes to meet demand, with household numbers steadily climbing. Investors, meanwhile, are shifting toward short-term and seasonal lets, which offer better returns and less red tape. Seasonal rentals (those under one year) are increasingly popular because they fall into a regulatory grey zone. The ESADE report flagged a fragmented rental market becoming harder to govern and less hospitable to tenants.
Ultimately, as urban anthropologist José Mansilla describes it, the core issue is structural: “Housing has migrated from being a social necessity to a financial asset.” In the current setup, homes are assets first, shelter second—which may suit investors, but not residents.
Can everything coexist?
This is the million-euro question. Can thriving tourism and affordable housing cohabit peacefully?
Across Spain, regional and local authorities are testing different recipes. Barcelona has gone so far as to freeze and begin phasing out tourist rental licences, with all 10,000 expected to be cancelled by 2028. Málaga has stopped issuing new tourist licences in 43 neighbourhoods, while Madrid is looking to restrict new rentals in areas shared with long-term residents.
These may be steps in the right direction, but Mansilla is sceptical. Piecemeal actions, he warns, will only scratch the surface unless part of a more cohesive national strategy.
Others advocate for a multi-pronged approach. María Matos of Fotocasa suggests combining caps on licences and rental days with serious crackdowns on unregistered lets. Jarabo points to strong public-private cooperation in expanding the housing supply and regulating rents. And data from pollster 40dB suggests there’s wide public backing for this, with 69.4% supporting limits on licences, 79% favouring more public housing, and 74.3% endorsing rent control.
The bottom line
Spain’s housing crunch is no longer a silent crisis. It’s out in the open, wrapped up in policy dilemmas, local protests, and competing narratives. The tourist rental boom has helped reinvigorate neighbourhood economies, but it has also filtered homes out of reach for locals.
Balancing booming tourism with affordable, accessible housing is not impossible—but it’s going to require clearer rules, tougher enforcement, more homes, and above all, political will. Until then, the debate will rage on—and so will the rental prices.