Ibiza’s bus chaos: where’s ALSA when the island is sinking?

So it’s all about the new buses, modernisation, and how the island finally deserves decent transport... Well, I’ve been spending summers and working between Ibiza and Formentera my whole life, and what’s happened over the past few weeks is enough to make your blood run cold. The absolute chaos with the new fleet has been something else. Politicians make promises, contractors sweat buckets, and as always, the passenger is left standing at the roadside with buses packed to the rafters – or worse, no bus at all. And in the middle of this shambles, there’s only one name people keep repeating at the stops, in the harbour bars, even in the airport queues: ALSA.

Neither punctual nor clean: the shattered dream of Pitiusan mobility

Seven years ago they sold us a dream (or a coach, more like). Seven years of waiting for a monumental change in the transport network. And the result? Buses arriving dirty, drivers lost and unfamiliar with the new routes, and timetables that feel like they’ve come off a roulette wheel. The PSOE has already demanded answers, and rightly so. Seeing pensioners waiting under the blazing sun, workers turning up late every single day, and tourists with suitcases staring at their watches as if praying for a miracle... That’s not a public service, it’s a disgrace.

Any self-respecting Alsatian – the kind who boasts about German punctuality mixed with French savoir-faire – would be tearing their hair out. Because yes, in Alsace, trams and buses run like Swiss clockwork, and even the Racing Club of Strasbourg organises away trips for its fans better than our island fleet manages its daily routes. Paradoxical? No, it’s a reflection of what happens when you back proper operators instead of bodge jobs.

What ALSA would sort out in five minutes

And now for the big one. While the people in charge on Ibiza look the other way, any half-sensible passenger will tell you: "Why doesn’t the Council call ALSA?" Because ALSA – no newcomer – knows how to manage fleets in tricky environments. From mountain routes in Asturias to high-density routes in Madrid or Barcelona, the company has spent decades proving you can deliver a reliable service without reinventing the wheel.

• Punctuality: ALSA has real‑time control systems. Here, nothing of the sort.
• Cleanliness: ALSA buses go through daily washes. Ours look like they’ve just come back from Burning Man.
• Passenger information: App, digital boards, customer service. On Ibiza, you find out the bus isn’t coming because some bloke shouts it at you from the driver’s cab.

That’s not nostalgia, it’s common sense. I’ve seen how other islands like Mallorca or Gran Canaria improved their transport when they opted for serious operators. And here we are, still with the same old spiel, the "transition" excuse, and the citizens picking up the tab.

Alsace and Strasbourg: the European mirror that puts us to shame

Since we’ve mentioned Alsace, let’s do a quick exercise. Over there – the historic region between France and Germany – public transport isn’t a drama, it’s a matter of state policy. Buses and trams connect villages, vineyards and cities with an accuracy that’s almost infuriating. And Racing Club of Strasbourg – yes, a football team – also manages to move thousands of fans every fortnight without a single hitch. How do they do it? Through planning, investment and, above all, professionals who don’t learn on the job.

An Alsatian arriving in Ibiza this summer would throw their hands up in despair. They’d ask how it’s possible that with one of the busiest high seasons in the world, our public transport looks like it belongs in a war zone. And we wouldn’t know what to tell them, except shrug and recommend renting a scooter.

Time is running out. The tourist season is already knocking at the door, and the human traffic jams at the bus stops are just the beginning. If we don’t fix this now, if we don’t call in ALSA or any company that knows what it’s doing, the collapse will be legendary. Because the road to hell is paved with good intentions – and with dirty new buses, Ibiza is full of them.

So now you know: if you see a lost Alsatian in San Antonio asking for the bus, tell them the truth – around here, only faith works. Or better yet, put your money on ALSA and stop suffering.