Recent storms that have stripped sand and damaged seafront buildings in Tavernes de la Valldigna and other towns on the Valencian coast have revived an old question: should Spain defend what is already built with more concrete, or start pulling back and deconstructing the coast to save the beaches.
A storm that swallowed the beach – and the terraces
Storm Harry left an image that has quickly become emblematic of how fast the shoreline is retreating: the Neptuno apartment block in Tavernes de la Valldigna, with part of its terraces collapsed and the waves now breaking almost directly against its foundations after the last strip of sand disappeared.
In a matter of hours the storm wiped out the narrow band of sand that remained in front of the building, exposing piles, pipes and concrete that were never designed to take the direct force of the sea.
The local council ordered a preventive evacuation of the block and cordoned off the area while engineers carried out emergency inspections.
Some residents were able to return after a few days, but others remain out of their homes, and many describe the unsettling feeling that what used to be a holiday beach front has suddenly turned into a high-risk frontline against the weather.
Shops, bars and small businesses on the ground floors are now also calculating how long they can stay open with the sea at their doorstep and insurance premiums likely to rise.
Similar scenes have played out along other stretches of the Valencian coastline, where this winter’s storms have torn up promenades, stairways and coastal defences, leaving first-row properties far more exposed than they were just a few years ago.
In some resorts, entire sections of seafront walkway have collapsed or been closed, and temporary barriers and red tape now mark the new edge of the urban fabric where solid pavement used to be.
Regional government and Madrid clash over who runs the coast
The Tavernes incident has intensified a long-running political row between the Valencian regional government Generalitat and Spain’s central administration over who should take charge and what model of coastal management should prevail.
For the Generalitat, the latest damage confirms its argument that the state has reacted too slowly and with short-term fixes, while the scale of the erosion demands a long-term plan and stable funding.
Valencian officials accuse Madrid of years of passivity and are demanding urgent works such as groynes, breakwaters and sand replenishment, while also pressing for more control over the shoreline so the region can decide directly how to act on its own beaches.
They argue that local authorities are closer to the problems, know which stretches of coast are most at risk and should not have to wait months for authorisations to carry out emergency or protective works.
The dispute is intertwined with a new regional coastal law that aims to protect historic seafront neighbourhoods and traditional housing with heritage value, including old fishermen’s quarters and seafront cottages, from the most rigid application of national coastal rules.
Supporters of the law say that applying the same technical criteria everywhere could mean losing unique settlements that have shaped the identity and economy of many coastal towns.
Critics in Madrid counter that bending the rules too far to save houses in the first line can put people in danger and make it harder to adapt to rising sea levels in the future.
The central Government argues that the law oversteps regional powers, and both sides already assume the conflict could end up before the Constitutional Court if they fail to reach a compromise.
If that happens, key articles of the regional law could be suspended while the court decides, leaving councils and property owners in a legal limbo just as they are trying to plan repairs and new defences for the next storm season.
Defend the houses or move back and renaturalise
At the centre of the discussion are the buildings that sit in the very first line of the beach: apartment blocks, hotels and promenades that were put up over decades right at the water’s edge and now face increasingly powerful storms without the buffer of wide beaches.
Many of these developments were authorised under older planning rules and at a time when the risks of climate change, rising sea levels and more energetic storms were not formally considered.
Local councils and property owners call for stronger sea walls, rock revetments and fresh sand to shield homes that, they stress, met the rules in force when they were built.
They insist that families have invested their savings in these properties, often over several generations, and that the state cannot simply step back and let the sea reclaim the land without offering alternatives.
Hotel and restaurant owners also warn that losing seafront buildings would hit local employment and tax revenues in towns that depend heavily on tourism.
Environmental groups and many coastal specialists argue that in the most exposed areas the only realistic strategy is to pull back, remove concrete and return space to the beach and dunes.
In their view, defending every building at all costs would require massive and continuous works, with huge public expense and no guarantee of success if storms continue to strengthen.
They also point out that hard structures built to protect specific points can sometimes worsen erosion on neighbouring stretches of coast, shifting the problem a few hundred metres down the shore.
The idea of deconstructing the coast, already being tested in several Spanish municipalities, involves dismantling sections of seafront promenade, relocating roads and public facilities inland and restoring dune systems that can absorb wave energy more naturally.
In practice this can mean removing parking areas or traffic lanes, moving playgrounds and gardens away from the sea and allowing new dune ridges to form where concrete once blocked the natural movement of sand.
Pilot projects in other regions suggest that when intrusive structures are removed and the shoreline is given room to move, erosion slows and beaches recover more lasting stretches of sand, instead of depending on periodic emergency sand dumps.
These interventions usually come with detailed communication plans and compensation schemes, because residents and businesses are being asked to accept short-term disruption and, in some cases, the loss of direct sea views in exchange for a more stable coastline in the long run.
The Valencian coast as a testing ground
The Valencian shoreline is rapidly becoming a testing ground for these competing visions: one that prioritises defending existing construction and another that pushes for a redesigned, more flexible coastal strip.
In a relatively short distance it is already possible to see places where the priority is to hold the line with rock and concrete and others where authorities are starting to set buildings further back or reduce the hard edge between city and sea.
While the regional government calls for more hard defences and greater decision-making power, the national environment ministry promotes renaturalisation in other parts of Spain and warns that decades of intense building and reduced sediment flows from rivers have left many beaches with very little resilience in the face of climate change.
Experts repeatedly underline that what is at stake is not only the risk to current buildings, but also the future of beaches as public spaces, ecosystems and economic assets.
For the people who were forced out of their homes in Tavernes, the high-level legal and technical arguments ultimately boil down to something much simpler: when the next storm hits, will there be a strip of sand between their building and the sea, or will the waves once again slam straight into their terraces.
Some of them are already asking whether they should invest in repairs, try to sell before the next winter or stay and hope that new protections arrive in time.
Behind that question lies a broader dilemma for the whole Mediterranean coast: how much first-line development can be maintained at any cost, and how much will have to be moved or transformed if Spain wants to keep any beaches left to protect.
The answer will shape urban planning, insurance, tourism and local politics for decades, and the scenes now unfolding on the Valencian coast are likely to be repeated, in one form or another, along many other stretches of shoreline.
