Lopesan has an army of sycophants in Las Palmas, constantly chasing Maspalomas tourism, who go into hiding when networking is needed. In the end, what the Canarian-owned chain is doing is paying to be mistreated. The Lopesan Group, the backbone of the tourism and business sector in southern Gran Canaria, finds itself at the center of a virulent controversy that transcends mere planning violations to affect two essential pillars of the Canarian business model: public safety and access to the coast. The forceful report from the Nature Protection Service (Seprona) of the Civil Guard not only denounces the construction work on the Meloneras golf course, but also poses an uncomfortable question for local politicians: Is corporate ambition undermining the law and putting third parties at risk?
Lopesan, as the main employer and developer of the Meloneras resort, operates under the premise that its investment is synonymous with progress and quality. The improvement of its golf course is part of the need to maintain the competitiveness of the high-end offering that attracts higher-income tourists. From this perspective, the works carried out—the filling of ravines and the construction of the dam at the mouth of the Barranquillo del Hornillo—can be interpreted by the company as necessary engineering measures to optimize land use and protect existing tourism infrastructure. In an environment of growth and competition, the ability to implement and execute quickly is key.
The accusation that the 45x8-meter seawall impedes the natural drainage of the ravine, creating a "danger in the event of torrential rains," shifts the problem from the administrative sphere to that of public safety. Lopesan will urgently have to demonstrate that its works do not jeopardize the life or heritage of the area, an area densely populated by tourists and residents. The image cost of associating its brand with a potential "risk to physical integrity" is catastrophic. The accusation of a "closure of public access to the sea" at Playa del Hornillo and the "covert privatization" of the beach is, in political terms, a direct blow to the group's social license. In the Canary Islands, access to the coast is a sacred right. By obstructing the public path, Lopesan not only violates the Coastal Law and municipal planning, but also fuels the narrative that large tourism lobbies act above the interests of the public.
The Civil Guard's report not only puts Lopesan on the ropes for destroying a public waterway and compromising safety. What's really being judged is the cost of unregulated economic expansion and the extent to which the power of a company, however vital to the island, can defy regulations protecting natural heritage and citizens' rights. To maintain its status as the economic engine of the Canary Islands, Lopesan must prove that its prosperity isn't built on illegal foundations or sealed ravines. For that, it has the troops it pays to do.
