Battle over the new world of exclusivity: Madrid, Athens and the paradox of the high-spend traveller

The headlines in Madrid this week have been uncharacteristically fiery.

National newspaper El Pais declared that a war of the wealthy is taking place in the capital’s most exclusive private clubs in Madrid. The cause? Friction between the traditional Spanish elite and the influx of high-net-worth arrivals from the Americas - specifically Mexico, Venezuela, and increasingly, the US - who are reimagining what it means to belong in the Spanish capital.

It may seem like an ultra-local story about guest lists and membership fees. But take a little closer look within the concept of luxury global travel and you’ll see this fracas is a bellwether for a much larger shift. 

After decades playing second fiddle to flamboyant Barcelona, the Spanish capital is taking its deserved place among the heavyweights of London and Paris.

It’s riding a wave of serious investment, big brand hotel openings and international interest. As luxury travel expert Gustavo Egusquiza noted in the El País piece, Madrid is changing. It is becoming a preferred city for a new breed of global citizen: high-earning nomads who can work from anywhere. They don’t just visit for a weekend of tapas, instead, they invest and settle, looking for a level of exclusivity that the city is only just beginning to tap into.

The ideal tourist dilemma

This brings us to a fascinating, and somewhat uncomfortable, paradox in the world of overtourism. For years, the outcry from cities like Barcelona and Malaga has been the same: "We want quality over quantity." 

The solution to mass tourism presented by tourist boards, sought by locals and promoted by tour operators is the idea of targeting high-spend visitors. They stay longer, spend more and tend to embrace a level of cultural tourism that a cruise ship day-tripper or stag weekend group just can’t match. 

It seemed the perfect solution. Yet, as Madrid is discovering, the high-spend model brings its own set of tensions. 

When the visitors are wealthy enough to buy up properties, drive up the price of a cortado coffee, and start to create their own private social ecosystems, it causes just as much friction with locals. 

The conclusion seems to be: it doesn’t matter whether the tourism is low-cost or high-luxury, when a city undergoes rapid change, there are always those who are left complaining - rightly or wrongly - that they don’t recognise the place they call home. 

So who is at fault? Is it the global citizen attracted to the destination offering investment opportunities and a new way of life? Or the locals who won’t adapt to change? 

Perhaps it’s neither, and we simply have not yet learned how to balance the growth of a global capital with the soul of a local community. Perhaps we’re learning that quality over quantity isn’t the answer either. 

The Mediterranean mirror

This isn’t a problem restricted to Madrid. A remarkably similar narrative is unfolding along the Athens Riviera. These were once the beaches frequented by Athenian citizens.

Of course, they had their fair share of glamour in the Sixties, with the likes of Jackie Onassis, Brigitte Bardot and Frank Sinatra.

But today, a new era of ultra-luxury is blooming. The massive Ellinikon project is an €8billion urban regeneration of the old international airport. It is set to be twice the size of New York’s Central Park, promising luxury towers and a smart city hub.

Greeks are the main buyers here, although many make up the diaspora living in places like London and the Middle East, and are looking for a suitably high-end home base that reflects their global lifestyle. 

Once again, this isn't just tourism; it’s a new form of nomadic living. These buyers are looking for those hybrid hospitality brands that blend residential security with the service of a five-star hotel, creating a home-from-home that offers every luxury they have come to expect when they travel.

While the project is marketed as a "sustainable gift" to the city, there is a growing backlash from neighbouring communities regarding practicalities like waste management as well as worries over the creation of a luxury enclave that does nothing to help solve the city’s housing crisis. Prestige projects, such as the Riviera Tower - set to be the tallest in Greece - are drawing particular ire. 

Redefining the private club

So what role does the private club play in all this? Once associated with the wood-panelled os St James’s in London, modern brands have transformed the concept and appealed to new audiences. 

Soho House did it so well in cities around the world that it famously moved into the countryside with Soho Farmhouse. Now, it is bringing that same concept to Ibiza.

The Ibiza development is telling. Elite travellers no longer want to visit a destination; they want to belong to it. They seek lifestyle-integrated club models that provide the community, the desk, the gym, and the social circle - no matter where they are. 

However, there are brands that are taking a more nuanced approach to the idea of exclusivity and building community. 

• One of our clients at Peregryn, The Ilisian in Athens, is currently redefining what a cultural hub can be. Rather than an isolated fortress, it is designed as a meeting point for both international arrivals and local Athenian creatives and professional communities.

• Within the former Hilton Athens building, which has created a sort of vertical neighbourhood of residences, restaurants and boutiques, you’ll find House of Nynn, a private members’ club that prioritises cultural dialogue and wellness over mere social signalling.

• In London, The Twenty Two founder Mavid Mirtorabi felt that Mayfair had become a luxury desert, so he created a boutique hotel and private members’ club, but with a public ground-floor restaurant to create a living room feel, rather than the museum-like eateries of traditional Mayfair clubs.

• Aman Group has also launched its lifestyle hotel and residence brand, Janu, offering luxury with a focus on connection. Unlike the whispered seclusion of Aman, it focuses on creating a more dynamic and sociable experience that also welcomes non-hotel guests. 

Could this be where the future of exclusive hospitality lies? It isn't just about keeping people out; it’s about creating hospitality as a platform for coexistence. A place that adds to the city’s narrative and a neighbourhood’s history.

The search for soul

Madrid is changing. Athens is rising. And the idea of what luxury hospitality means is being rewritten.

The war of the private clubs in Spain shows that when a city changes drastically in a short timeframe, friction occurs across the socio-economic spectrum. 

The instinct may be for these clubs to gatekeep, but a club that never evolves becomes a museum rather than a thriving community. Conversely, when we build ever-higher towers to cater to a new global traveller, we risk creating half-empty enclaves where locals don’t feel welcome. 

In both cases, the answer isn’t exclusion. It is offering hospitality through coexistence. We should be creating multicultural hubs where locals can proudly celebrate their heritage, and visitors - who are, after all, looking for that cultural immersion - can experience it. 

By designing spaces where the high-net-worth nomad brings new energy and the local professional provides the cultural anchor, we create something neither side can achieve alone: relevance.

We need to design for connection. That’s the new luxury.