Opinion article 

By Sergio Alfaya, PhD Student in Earth Science and GeoTenerife researcher

“Cuna del Alma” is a planned luxury hotel in Puertito de Adeje, in southern Tenerife, selling itself as a sustainable resort. It has been at the centre of controversy since construction began. Mass protests against this project and the economic model it represents have been ongoing since April 2024, drawing international attention. This controversy seems to be reaching a tipping point, as a judge has reopened a criminal case for alleged criminal misconduct against the Mayor of Adeje (who publicly said there was nothing worth protecting in Puertito de Adeje and that this was the example of sustainable tourism he wants for the Canary Islands) and the developer, Filip Hoste. Construction has been halted in a small part of the project, but machinery is still at work a few metres away.

For many observers, this raises a broader, more uncomfortable question: what does “sustainable tourism” actually mean beyond a marketing label?

A success story under strain

The Canary Islands are often presented as a model of tourism success. Since the 1960s, the archipelago has transformed from an economy largely based on the primary sector (agriculture and farming) into one of Europe’s leading holiday destinations. Around 18 million visitors arrive each year. The model has been so “successful” that the island of Tenerife receives more yearly international visitors (7.2 million) than countries like Brazil (6.6 million). This means that the tourism sector has turned into the backbone for labour, infrastructure, and public services, firmly placing the islands on the global tourism map.

Yet this success has brought intense pressure. Coastlines have been heavily altered, often irreversibly. Housing becomes increasingly more difficult each year for residents to afford. Water and energy systems are under strain, and concerns about environmental degradation are growing. Many workers in the tourism sector report low wages, job insecurity, and physically demanding conditions that can affect long-term health.

At the same time, a growing number of residents feel that the benefits of tourism are unevenly distributed. While the sector represents one of the main economic drives of the islands, there is a perception that its costs (social, environmental, and economic) are borne more widely than its rewards. The Canary Islands generated over €23 billion in tourism revenue in 2025, with the hotel sector accounting for a significant share of this income. Nonetheless, a lack of clarity in profit reporting means it is difficult to give a precise figure. With record profits and strong demand, foreign investors can pay as little as 4% tax under ZEC rules (Canarian Economic Zone). It’s a model, say locals, that asset strips and funnels profits away from the Canary Islands, as most resorts and hotels are owned by foreign investors or hotel chains from mainland Spain who can repatriate their profits free of charge.

It is within this context that Cuna del Alma has become a focal point.

El Puertito prior to the construction of the Cuna del Alma project, source GeoTenerife.

A project that became a symbol

The Cuna del Alma resort dates back to the 1980s. At the time, it was approved with relatively little scrutiny, seen as another large-scale development on Tenerife’s already overdeveloped southern coast.

However, by the time construction began in 2022, public attitudes had shifted. What might once have been considered routine development was now viewed by many as part of a model increasingly seen as unsustainable.

Early construction works quickly intensified concerns. Archaeological remains linked to the indigenous Guanche population (the only indigenous people known to have lived on the islands before the arrival of the Spanish Conquista, now “officially” considered extinct) were uncovered on site. Environmental groups raised alarms about the destruction of coastal habitats and the impact on protected plant species. Activists failed to find a proper environmental impact report for the project, mandatory documentation for this kind of development, and especially relevant as the site adjoins two protected areas: La Caleta and the Teno-Rasca marine strip.

In response, activists mobilized. They occupied the site, organized protests, and brought wider attention to a project that had previously received little public scrutiny. In response, authorities issued precautionary suspensions, and a series of investigations, sanctions, and technical reports followed. Yet these measures did not resolve the conflict. Instead, they helped elevate it.

By 2023, Cuna del Alma had become part of a broader debate across the Canary Islands, and served as the focal point to the new, beaconing question of whether the tourism model it represents remains viable.

Public discontent continued to grow, amplified by social media, in the absence of detailed local media coverage. Protest took creative forms, including music and Carnival performances. Yet despite sustained mobilisation, construction largely continued, and official responses were perceived as limited or delayed.

A legal turning point

In 2025, the conflict entered a new phase. A group of citizens filed a criminal complaint against the mayor of Adeje and the project’s developer. Acting independently and fundraising to cover their legal costs, they challenged the project through the courts. Led by Tagoror Permanente, the group whose spokesman is a geography professor at the local public university (ULL), Victor Martín, includes affected resident Juan Galindo whose frontline property has been expropriated under dubious circumstances; Guacimara Fuentes, a local content creator who publishes groundbreaking interviews with people speaking out against perceived corruption in southern Tenerife; Eloy Cuadra, longtime campaigner and author; and Rebelión Científica. They came together to form a new Association, Puertito Libre, to present their case to the courts.

The case was initially dismissed, but the complainants appealed to the Public Prosecutor, arguing that there were clear indications of possible criminal behaviour. The Prosecutor agreed and asked the judge to reopen the case. She did, and has ordered a halt to construction in approximately 5% of the site, consisting of the area closest to the coastline.

For many, this represents a significant shift. Previous cases were heard and tried by the authorities themselves, but it is now under judicial scrutiny. But the limited scope of the stoppage has also raised concern. While construction has been halted in a limited area, large-scale destruction continues elsewhere on the site. This has intensified debate: on what legal and ethical basis can construction proceed while potential irregularities have been acknowledged in part of the project in a criminal court case? The destruction is continuing apace, the question is pressing.

Competing visions of development

The outcome of Cuna del Alma is being closely watched, particularly as other large-scale tourism developments are planned across the Canary Islands. Supporters of such projects argue that they bring investment, employment, and economic growth. In a region heavily dependent on tourism, these are significant considerations.

However, a growing segment of society questions whether this type of development is compatible with the islands’ environmental limits and social realities. The concern is not tourism itself, but the form it takes and who ultimately benefits.

This tension is clearly visible in Puertito de Adeje. Construction has stopped and restarted. Legal processes are ongoing. Public attention remains high. The site itself has become a physical expression of an unresolved question.

Limits of the planned Cuna del Alma construction (Sergio Alfaya, 2024). Click to expand this image.

What does “sustainable tourism” mean?

At the heart of this debate is a fundamental issue: the meaning of “sustainable tourism.”

The term is widely used by institutions and developers, often to describe projects that aim to minimise environmental impact while maintaining economic growth. Yet in practice, critics argue that sustainability is sometimes reduced to a label, mainly applied to developments that continue to expand into sensitive areas or place additional pressure on limited resources whilst ignoring local concerns.

Cuna del Alma has brought this contradiction into sharp focus. Can a project be described as sustainable if it generates significant environmental concern, faces legal challenges, and is opposed by a substantial part of the local population?

A broader reckoning

The Canary Islands are not alone in facing these questions. Many popular destinations are grappling with the impacts of mass tourism. However, the islands’ geography makes these challenges particularly acute. Limited land, finite resources, and fragile ecosystems mean that the margin for error is small.

For decades, tourism has driven prosperity in the Canary Islands. But the model that once delivered clear benefits is now under increasing scrutiny. Economic dependence, environmental pressure, and social discontent are converging.

What is emerging is not a rejection of tourism, but a reassessment of its limits. The debate is shifting from growth at any cost to questions of balance, distribution, and long-term sustainability.

An unfinished outcome

As the legal case proceeds, the future of Cuna del Alma remains uncertain. Its significance, however, is already clear.

 What began as a local dispute has evolved into a wider reflection on how tourism is developed, regulated, and justified. It raises questions about governance, accountability, and the role of public participation in shaping the future of the islands.

The Canary Islands now find themselves at a crossroads. The choices made here about development, sustainability, and the use of limited territory will help define their future.

Cuna del Alma is a test of what sustainable tourism means in reality, and whether that definition can withstand scrutiny.