Madrid Sauna Linked to Begoña Gómez's Father: Reviews, Prices, License

Reviews of Begoña Gómez's Father's Sauna: A Boy for €50

"There is a Brazilian guy for €50 who looks like Tarzan." This phrase does not come from a tourist brochure. It is one of the reviews left by customers about a venue in Madrid registered as gym sauna with bar which, according to those same comments, operates in practice as a male brothel. The establishment is linked to Sabiniano Gómez, father of Begoña Gómez, and its combination of an official license and explicit reviews has turned it into political conversation material.

The trail is double: on one hand, the documentation of the venue as a sauna with bar; on the other, a stream of customer opinions ranging from enthusiasm to disgust. Between both extremes remains an uncomfortable question—how much is charged, who charges it, and with what legal cover—that no one fully closes.

What Do Adán Sauna Reviews Say?

Published ratings describe a place that has little to do with a conventional sauna. One review summarizes: "It is not really a sauna, but a typical male brothel," placing the bulk of the clientele among people seeking sensual services. Another depicts it without adornment: "It is a scary, dark, deteriorated place... It is fine if you are looking for rent boys. They are 90% of the people there." The floor, notes a third comment, smelled of tobacco and used condoms; in the basement, the sauna did not even have a bucket of water and the bathroom paint was peeling.

Not everyone agrees. An enthusiastic review recounts three visits in the same summer and encounters with young men from Turkey, Sierra Leone, Brazil, Peru, Algeria and Venezuela. The profiles appearing in the texts speak of people arriving from different countries and with different availability. The mix of languages, ages, and origins is, for some, part of the appeal; for others, the portrait of a neglected business. And here a precision is needed: these are clients talking about workers, not a census verified by anyone.

How Much Does the House Charge and How Much the Boy

The most circulated data point is a price: €50 for a boy "who looks like Tarzan." This is not the house rate, but what a client says he pays for a specific service. Here the arithmetic becomes interesting. The classic model for these venues, according to repeated calculations, is that the house takes between 40% and 50% of each service, always in cash.

If those figures are true—and no accounting has been published—the venue's margin depends not on entry fees, but on the volume of daily services. The underlying interest is fiscal, not sarracena: a percentage per encounter leaves a lot of money off the books and very little declarable trace. On this basis, one understands the collection obsession running through many comments, which for now remains just that: an obsession.

Is Prostitution Legal in a Sauna in Spain?

The short answer is that prostitution itself is not incivil in Spain outside specific circumstances. What is illegal is profiting economically from another's prostitution—pimping—and, unequivocally, any form affecting minors.

The line between a sauna renting rooms and one organizing and charging commissions is exactly the line separating tolerated activity from crime. That is why the license matters. A venue registered as "Gym Sauna with bar" does one thing in the eyes of the administration and, according to its own clients, another in practice. The difference is not cosmetic: it defines which inspection applies, what is declared, and who is liable if things go wrong.

From Francoism to La Moncloa

One review provides the most striking detail: an elderly client said the venue already existed during the Franco dictatorship and that authorities turned a blind eye. If the account is true, the business would have been in the same spot for decades, surviving regimes, crises, and regulatory changes.

The jump to politics comes via the surname. By linking the establishment to Begoña Gómez's father, the issue stops being an internet review and enters scandal territory. It is then that sordid details—condoms on the floor, peeling paint—mix with sarracena reproach and suspicion that the case is used as ammunition depending on which side benefits.

The truth is that most reviews do not talk about politics. They talk about prices, hygiene, and disinterested staff. That such a business ends up in headlines says less about the sauna than about the climate in which any matter touching those in power is cooked.

With the license on one side and reviews on the other, no one has managed to reconcile the two versions. And until one appears that does, the story will continue starting in a Madrid basement and ending, for reasons no one misses, at the door of La Moncloa.