Formentera 2025: The Last Mediterranean Secret (That Everyone Knows About)

The Island That Instagram Ruined (And Why It’s Still Perfect)

At 7:23am on an October morning, I’m cycling the salt road between Ses Illetes and Llevant beaches, the only sounds my bike chain clicking and flamingos stirring in the Estany Pudent lagoon. The water on both sides is so clear I can count individual grains of sand through three meters of Mediterranean. To my left, the beach that Condé Nast called “the most beautiful in the world.” To my right, absolutely nobody.

Three hours later, this same stretch will host 400 rental bikes, 2,000 day-trippers from Ibiza, and enough selfie sticks to fence a small farm. The Juan y Andrea beach restaurant will charge €28 for a basic salad. The umbrella rental guys will extract €65 for two sunbeds and shade. The paradise will be monetized down to the last grain of that perfect white sand.

This is Formentera’s paradox: an island marketed as “unspoiled” that receives 2.8 million visitors annually – that’s 34 tourists for every resident. An island with no airport (to “preserve its character”) but 50 daily ferries in August. An island where locals can’t afford to live because every house is an Airbnb, where fishermen have been replaced by beach clubs, where the word “authentic” has lost all meaning.

And yet.

And yet, at 7:23am on that salt road, or at sunset from the Cap de Barbaria lighthouse, or in October when the island empties and prices halve, Formentera delivers something extraordinary. Not the Caribbean-in-Europe marketing pitch. Something better: the last accessible Mediterranean island where the water really is that blue, where you can still get lost, where – if you know when and how – you can find the paradise they’re selling.

The 30-Minute Time Machine

The ferry from Ibiza to Formentera takes 28 minutes and travels 50 years back in time. No airport (banned since 1960). No high-rises (illegal since 1975). No chain hotels (rejected repeatedly). The island is 19km long, 2km wide at its narrowest, with one traffic light (installed 2019, still controversial).

“We watched what happened to Ibiza,” says Miguel Tur, whose family has fished these waters for five generations. “In the 1970s, we could have built an airport. The money was on the table. We said no. Now my son can’t afford a house here, but at least there’s still a ‘here’ to not afford.”

Perfect beach day at Illetes: Formentera’s famous beach offers pristine white sand and crystal-clear turquoise water.

The Numbers Nobody Mentions

Let me destroy some illusions with mathematics:

• Surface area: 83.2km² (smaller than Disney World)
• Beaches: 20km total (sounds like a lot until you divide by 2.8 million visitors)
• Hotel beds: 8,942 (Ibiza has 84,000)
• Residents: 12,400 (but only 4,000 in winter)
• Average property price: €8,400/m² (higher than London)
• Average local salary: €1,600/month (you see the problem)

In August 2024, the island received 458,000 visitors. That’s 37 people per resident, per month. The infrastructure, designed for a fishing community of 2,000, now processes the equivalent of Barcelona’s population annually.

“It’s not sustainable,” admits Maria Costa from the Island Council. “But it’s also our entire economy. We’re trapped in our own success.”

When to Visit: The Seasonal Transformation

The Four Formenteras

May-June: The Awakening The island emerges from winter hibernation. Restaurants reopen, testing menus. Hotels air out rooms. The water is still cold (18-20°C) but the beaches are empty. Prices are 40% lower than peak season. This is when residents briefly reclaim their island before the invasion.

July-August: The Occupation Formentera becomes a suburb of Milan. Italian everywhere, €18 mojitos, two-hour waits for dinner, beaches that look like refugee camps. The famous beach clubs are “scene” – meaning you pay €200 for a daybed to be ignored by waiters while electronic music destroys conversation.

September-October: The Sweet Spot Water temperature peaks (25-26°C). Italians return to work. Prices drop 30%. Beach clubs close, beaches open. The light turns golden. This is the Formentera that created the reputation, available for six weeks before winter arrives.

November-April: The Ghost Island 80% of businesses close. The population drops to 4,000. Storms lash the coast. But also: empty beaches, €80 hotel rooms, dinners with locals who have time to talk. You’ll eat at the same three restaurants repeatedly, but you’ll eat well and cheaply.

Getting Here: The Ferry Reality

The Maritime Monopoly

No airport means everyone arrives by sea. This supposed limitation is actually a goldmine for ferry companies who charge whatever they want.

From Ibiza (The Standard Route)

• Companies: Baleària, Trasmapi, Aquabus, Mediterranea Pitiusa
• Duration: 28-35 minutes (fast ferry) or 1 hour (slow ferry)
• Frequency: Every 30 minutes in summer, hourly in winter
• Cost: €23-35 each way (residents pay €4.50)
• Reality: Aggressive boarding, guaranteed seasickness for some, views that make it worthwhile

From Dénia (The Mainland Option)

• Duration: 2-4 hours depending on service
• Frequency: 2-3 daily in summer only
• Cost: €75-95 one way
• Reality: Rough seas common, limited schedule, mostly package tourists

The Yacht Arrival If you arrive by private yacht, you’re either very rich or very lucky. The marina at La Savina charges €200-500/night for a decent berth. Anchoring in the bays is “free” but restricted to protect the posidonia. The maritime police issue €3,000 fines enthusiastically.

Getting Around: The Mobility Hierarchy

The Vehicle Registration Nightmare

Since 2019, Formentera limits vehicles in July-August. Non-residents must register vehicles online (formentera.eco), pay €1-5/day, and hope the quota isn’t full. The system crashes regularly, the English translation is gibberish, and nobody answers the help phone.

The Real Transport Options

Bicycle (The Classic)

• Rental: €10-15/day for basic, €25 for electric
• Reality: Flat except for La Mola (192m climb)
• Problems: Hot, dusty, crowded bike lanes in summer
• Advantages: Park anywhere, feel virtuous, actually enjoyable October-May

Scooter (The Compromise)

• Rental: €35-50/day for 125cc
• Reality: Everyone thinks they can ride one, most can’t
• Problems: Sand on roads, tourists on wrong side, no helmets
• Advantages: Reach remote beaches, feel Italian

Car (The Mistake)

• Rental: €60-100/day plus registration
• Reality: Unnecessary on a 19km island
• Problems: Parking impossible at beaches, expensive, environmentally unconscious
• Advantages: Air conditioning, carries beach gear

Electric Bike (The Solution)

• Rental: €25-35/day
• Reality: Game-changer for the La Mola climb
• Problems: Heavy, battery anxiety, everyone wants one
• Advantages: See entire island without sweating

Walking (The Impossible)

• Cost: Free
• Reality: No shade, distances longer than they appear, August sun will kill you
• Suitable for: Masochists and dawn/dusk only

Formentera’s lighthouse surrounded by wild rosemary: A scenic spot offering stunning views across the island’s rugged landscape.

Where to Stay: The Accommodation Crisis

The Ugly Truth

Formentera has 8,942 official tourist beds for 2.8 million annual visitors. The math doesn’t work. Result: illegal rentals everywhere, €4,000/week for a basic apartment in August, locals sleeping in vans.

“My family has lived here 400 years,” says Carmela at the Es Caló bakery. “My daughter lives in Ibiza because she can’t afford Formentera. The house where I was born is now an Airbnb for €500 per night. This is progress?”

The Beaches: Paradise Lost and Found

Ses Illetes: The Beautiful Nightmare

Everyone comes for Ses Illetes. Ranked #5 in the world by TripAdvisor, #1 in Europe by everyone else. And it is extraordinary – white sand, turquoise water, views to Ibiza. It’s also a disaster zone by noon in summer.

The reality: Arrive before 9am or after 5pm. The middle of the day is shoulder-to-shoulder Italian families, €18 drinks, music from competing beach clubs, no space to breathe. The water remains perfect but you’ll share it with 500 others.

“I don’t go anymore,” says Paco, who’s lived here 40 years. “It’s not a beach, it’s a product. They sell it like Coca-Cola.”

Llevant: The Windward Alternative

The east side of the peninsula, facing open sea. When wind blows from the west (60% of summer), Llevant has waves while Illetes is flat. Less crowded, wilder feeling, nudist-friendly. The beach clubs can’t operate here (too exposed), which keeps it relatively honest.

Migjorn: The 5km Question

Formentera’s south coast is one continuous beach with different names every kilometer. The west end (near Blue Bar) is scene-y. The middle stretches are empty. The east end is local. Pick your spot based on your tolerance for humanity.

The Migjorn Decoder

• Km 0-1: Blue Bar territory, sunset scene, expensive
• Km 2-3: Empty, access via dirt roads, perfection
• Km 3-4: Family zone, chiringuitos, reasonable
• Km 4-5: Wild, rocky, often alone

Cala Saona: The Compromise

The only beach on the west coast. Small (140m), beautiful, destroyed by its own success. Two hotels, three restaurants, 89 illegal vacation rentals. In August, people literally fight for shade. In October, it’s paradise.

Sunrise over Formentera: The island’s eastern beaches offer spectacular dawn views across the Mediterranean.

Where to Eat: The Price of Paradise

The Restaurant Racket

Formentera has 187 restaurants for 12,400 residents. That’s one per 66 people. They exist for tourists, charge tourist prices, and mostly serve tourist food. The good news: exceptions exist. The bad: everyone knows about them.

The Price Reality Check

• Coffee: €2.50-4 (mainland Spain: €1.20)
• Beer: €4-7 (mainland: €2)
• Basic salad: €18-24 (mainland: €8)
• Paella: €35-45 per person (mainland: €15)
• Grilled fish: €28-45 (mainland: €15)
• Bottle of wine: €35-80 (shop price: €12)

“We charge what the market accepts,” admits a restaurant owner who prefers anonymity. “Italians expect to pay Milan prices. We give them Milan prices. Locals? They eat at home.”

The Other Formentera: Beyond Beaches

La Mola: The Island Above the Island

The plateau of La Mola rises 192m above sea level – Formentera’s highest point. The road up is spectacular, the villages on top feel forgotten by time, and the lighthouse at the end inspired Jules Verne. This is where Formentera residents go to escape Formentera tourists.

The La Mola Circuit

• El Pilar de la Mola: Tiny village, Wednesday/Sunday craft market
• Molí Vell: 1778 windmill, still works, €2 entry
• Far de la Mola: Lighthouse, cliffs, vertigo-inducing views
• Return via Es Caló: Tiny port, good restaurant, Roman road remnants

The Salt Flats: Pink Gold

Ses Salines produced salt from the 13th century until 1984. Now it’s a nature reserve hosting 200+ bird species including flamingos (August-October). The salt mountains remain, pink and surreal. The sunset from here is extraordinary and free.

The Green Tours Deception

Cannabis hasn’t been legal since 1999, despite what the guys outside ferry terminals suggest. Those “cannabis tours” are scams. The “legal” cannabis shops sell CBD (no THC). The police are not amused by confused tourists. Every summer, dozens get arrested.

The Hippie Markets That Aren’t

The La Mola craft market (Wednesday and Sunday afternoons, May-October) was started by hippies in 1984. Now it’s €40 dreamcatchers made in China and €8 mojitos. Some original artisans remain, making jewelry and leather goods, but they’re outnumbered by resellers 10:1.

“The real hippies can’t afford market stalls anymore,” explains Luna, who’s sold jewelry here since 1992. “€300 per day for a table. You need to sell a lot of dreamcatchers.”

The Environmental Crisis Nobody Discusses

The Posidonia Problem

Those crystal-clear waters exist because of Posidonia oceanica seagrass meadows – 100,000 years old, UNESCO protected, dying from boat anchors and pollution. Every yacht that drops anchor destroys decades of growth. The fines (€3,000+) are rarely enforced.

In 2024, 47 hectares of posidonia died. That’s 470,000m² of ecosystem that filters water, prevents erosion, and produces oxygen. Once it’s gone, Formentera becomes just another Mediterranean island with murky water.

Water Scarcity

Formentera has no natural water sources. Everything comes from:

• Desalination (energy-intensive, expensive)
• Rain collection (irregular, insufficient)
• Shipped from Ibiza (emergency only)

Average tourist uses 300 liters/day. Average resident: 130 liters. Total island capacity: 6,000 cubic meters/day. Summer demand: 8,500 cubic meters. The math doesn’t work.

“Every shower, every pool, every mojito uses water we don’t have,” says Environmental Councilor Rafael González. “But try explaining that to someone paying €400 per night.”

The Waste Mountain

Formentera produces 15,000 tons of waste annually. The single treatment plant handles 5,000 tons. The rest? Shipped to Ibiza (more boats, more emissions) or burned (illegal but happens). In August, the island generates 65 tons of garbage daily. The collection system, designed for 20 tons, collapses.

The Money Question: Daily Costs

The Brutal Truth Budget

Absolute Minimum Day Trip

• Ferry: €50 return
• Bike rental: €10
• Supermarket lunch: €10
• Water/snacks: €10
• Total: €80 (and you’ve seen nothing, done nothing)

Realistic Day Trip

• Ferry: €50
• Electric bike: €25
• Beach umbrella: €30 (shared)
• Lunch: €35
• Drinks: €20
• Dinner: €45
• Total: €205 (standard experience)

Comfortable Overnight

• Ferry: €50
• Hotel: €150 (half of €300 couple rate)
• Scooter rental: €40
• Meals: €100
• Beach/drinks: €50
• Total: €390 (per person for 24 hours)

The Full Experience (3 nights):

• Ferry: €50
• Hotel: €450 (€150/night)
• Scooter: €120 (€40×3)
• Food/drink: €450 (€150/day)
• Activities/beaches: €150
• Total: €1,220 (what most people actually spend)

Should You Come?

The Honest Assessment

If you want Caribbean-quality water without flying to the Caribbean, come. If you can afford €200+ per day per person, come. If you can visit May, June, September, or October, definitely come. If you expect unspoiled paradise for bargain prices in August, stay home.

Formentera is extraordinarily beautiful and extraordinarily expensive. It’s marketed as unspoiled but processes 34 tourists per resident annually. It’s small enough to see in a day but best experienced over a week. It’s everything they promise and nothing like they describe.

If You Do Come: The Survival Guide

Timing: Arrive on the first ferry (8am), leave on the last (10:30pm). Or stay overnight to see the island without day-trippers.

Season: May, June, September, October. Never August unless you enjoy human sardine experiences.

Transport: Electric bike for day trips, regular bike for fitness, scooter for convenience. Never car.

Beaches: Illetes before 10am, Llevant when windy, Migjorn middle sections anytime, Caló des Mort if you’re willing to walk.

Food: Breakfast at hotel, supermarket lunch, one nice dinner. Your wallet will thank you.

Mindset: You’re visiting a small, fragile island overwhelmed by its own success. Act accordingly.

The Last Word

Cycling that salt road at 7:23am, before the invasion begins, I understand why people fall for Formentera. The water really is impossibly blue. The sand really is Caribbean white. The light really does something magical here.

But I also understand why locals are exhausted. Their island has become a product, their home a hotel, their beaches a business. They’ve gained wealth but lost community. They’re the richest per capita in Spain but can’t afford to live here.

Formentera in 2025 is a paradise with a price tag, a secret everyone knows, an escape you share with thousands. It’s not the unspoiled island of marketing dreams. It’s better and worse than that – a real place struggling with unreal demand, a tiny rock in the Mediterranean that bears the weight of million-euro fantasies.

Come if you must (and you probably must – those photos aren’t lying). But come understanding what you’re part of: the beautiful problem of too many people wanting the same small paradise. Come gently. Come gratefully. Come knowing that paradise, even at €65 for an umbrella, is still paradise.

Just don’t come in August.

Elena Martinez first visited Formentera in 1998 when bikes were free and beaches were empty. She returns every October to remember why she fell in love and every August to remember why she left.

Explore More of Formentera

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Sources & References

• Consell de Formentera Tourism Statistics 2024
• Formentera.eco vehicle registration data
• IBESTAT (Balearic Statistics Institute) 2024
• Posidonia Conservation Reports, GEN-GOB 2024
• Water consumption data, Aigües de Formentera 2024
• Personal fieldwork May-October 2019-2024
• Restaurant and accommodation pricing verified August 2024
• Ferry company schedules and pricing current as of March 2025