Getafe, Spain: 1,600 euros for an apartment, gold as the yardstick

Getafe at 1,600 euros: the working-class city that no longer is

How much does it cost to live in Getafe? The answer making the rounds in the final stretch of this debate is a painful figure: 1,600 euros in rent for an apartment in this city south of Madrid. On that basis, a debate has sprung up that runs from the price of an ounce of gold to the full-board fee at a student residence, taking in the 70,000 euros an apartment cost three decades ago. The recurring conclusion: Getafe, Leganés and the rest of the southern belt have stopped being a haven for middle incomes.

From a city of hard work to a city of the rich

The starting point is a bitter irony: living in Getafe carries real pedigree in 2026. The city long associated with industrial work and cheap, well-connected housing now comes up in conversation as an expensive destination. The 1,600-euro price is debated less for its amount than for what it represents: a town that no longer welcomes just any salary.

Some argue the phenomenon is not unique to Getafe. The same logic applies to Leganés, Parla, Villaverde, San Cristóbal, Vallecas or Carabanchel, where a three-bedroom new-build apartment sells for between 400,000 and 600,000 euros. Market polarisation is the argument repeated most often: on one side, old blocks with elderly residents and migrant populations; on the other, new developments with prices worthy of a European capital.

Why is 1,600 euros paid for an apartment in Getafe?

The explanation carrying the most weight in the conversation is not about property but about money. A calculation doing the rounds compares the price of rent with that of an ounce of gold: if a decade ago the ounce cost around 1,000 euros and now stands at about 4,000, the euro would have lost three quarters of its value against the metal. In other words, today's 1,600 euros would be equivalent to roughly 400 ten years ago.

The thesis rests on a specific historical fact: until 1973, when the dollar's convertibility into gold was broken, the price was fixed at 35 dollars an ounce. Since then, fiat money would have entered a dynamic of successive bubbles. The objection comes quickly: if monetary devaluation explains everything, why is oil relatively cheap? The answer given is that crude depends on supply —the boost from US shale— and not only on the value of the currency.

The room-rental business

The market has changed how it contracts. Whole-apartment rentals have given way to renting by the room: between 450 and 500 euros per head, compared with the 800 or 1,000 euros of a student residence with full board. The landlord's calculation is simple: six tenants in two bedrooms and a living room, or siblings sharing and staying longer. The landlord doesn't care how many move in; what matters is getting paid.

The result is that the hardest hit are not students but single people and small families without prior assets. Once, one salary was enough to move out; now it takes two, or three, or sharing a roof with strangers.

The numbers of nostalgia: 16,000 pesetas in Leganés

The generational comparison runs through the whole conversation. In Leganés, in 1990, rent cost 16,000 pesetas on a salary of 240,000. In Móstoles, in 1996, 70,000 pesetas for three bedrooms with a lift and a salary of 200,000. In Getafe, in 1993, 50,000 pesetas for someone earning 250,000 a month. The proportion was a fifth of the salary; today, at best, it approaches 50%.

The conclusion drawn from those figures is that the problem is not only the price of housing but the loss of purchasing power of wages. With 5,000 pesetas you could have dinner, go out and take a taxi home with 2,000 to spare. Then the euro came along and ruined it all, sums up one of the most repeated comments.

Supply, land and the political rumour

The other front is supply. Administrative neglect and slow land development are cited as causes of the price rise, with the example of two news stories affecting the same plots which, read together, paint a picture of a trickle. Behind it all hangs a political rumour: if mass housing were built in Getafe's neighbourhoods, the party that has governed the city for years would lose the mayor's office. Getafe is, it is claimed, the largest city in Spain governed by the PSOE (Spain's Socialist Party).

The closing note is dry irony: if today's prices are not a rip-off, then God should come down and see for himself. Meanwhile, the only way out some people find is the hotel.