This is the evening of one player at Padel Club Colina del Paraíso. Every scene you're about to scroll through has a number attached — and together, those numbers are the investment. Built to the tolerances of someone who manufactured to pharma standards for thirty years.
He drives up from San Pedro — eleven minutes — parks under the palms, and walks past two courts already mid-rally. The glass is spotless because it was polished this morning. He notices without noticing. That's the point.
Prime-time court hours are the scarcest asset in the corridor: the leading club runs ≈12 hours per court per day at €36. We model our whole plan at 40% occupancy — half the leader — at €28. Scarcity at 7pm is what makes 40% conservative.
Four players, two of them met at a mixing night last month. LED floods tuned for broadcast, panoramic glass, the valley going gold behind them. Ninety minutes where nobody checks a phone.
A booked court-hour at €28 splits four ways: €7 per player — cheaper than the beers after. Padel's economics work because the unit of sale feels almost free to the person paying it, and the court sells it 13,140 hours a year at stabilised occupancy.
A staff member appears courtside with a tray: rolled towels, ice-cold, eucalyptus. It costs the club almost nothing. It is the single thing every guest tells their friends about. He presses it to the back of his neck and decides, right there, that this is his club now.
Retention is the quiet engine: memberships and academy are €132,000/year of recurring revenue before a single casual booking. You built Danmil on customers who reorder for decades — this is the same physics: hardware doesn't retain people; how a place makes them feel does.
Villa Colina's terrace hums above court 1. He orders a caña, argues a line call he had nothing to do with, and books Thursday before finishing the glass. Nobody sold him anything. The place did.
The club sells time and coaching; the landlord's restaurant captures the food & drink — that alignment is why the property wants this deal. Our modelled revenue is €522,521 in year 3, €87,087 per court, with every ancillary line deliberately conservative.
Marcus is fictional. The machine isn't: six courts, an academy of 15+ programmed hours a day, leagues, mixings, camps in the winter weeks, and a 112-unit resort asleep on top of it. Here is what the machine produces at just 40% occupancy — half of what the corridor's leader runs today:
Break-even at 28% occupancy — about 3.7 hours per court per day. With the full contingency plan active, the operating floor drops to 19.4%. The complete 26-page plan, the sensitivity grid and the quarterly cash flow travel with this film. We open with the stress test, not the dream.
Since this film was first cut, the conversation with the ownership of Colina del Paraíso has moved. She is now negotiating to put €200,000–350,000 of her own capital into the works, taking a small stake of 8–14% — which means the person who owns the ground earns when the club earns, and her apartments, her restaurant and her winter are contractually tied to your success.
Here is the plain truth about this dream: with €200,000, a padel club of your own is impossible — anywhere in Europe. The land alone sees to that. But at ≈€400,000, on the resort's ground, with the landlord investing beside you — it stops being a dream. It becomes a construction schedule.
PADEL CLUB COLINA DEL PARAÍSO · BENAHAVÍS · READY TO BREAK GROUND
15% at lease signature · 30% at licence · 45% during works by certification · 10% at opening. Bank debt at 3.75% is one structure, not a promise — unlevered, the project still returns 11.2%. The interactive model travels with this film: move the sliders yourself.
OPEN THE CONVERSATION