Let’s take a look at Colonia de los Olivos (Colony of Olive Trees), which was built hastily in 1947 to accommodate a post-war migration boom in Madrid. Around 1,000 people have called these temporary blocks their home until their phased demolition more than half a century later, which is still not complete.
Instagram account Visit Spain 1970 arose from an accidental discovery of tourist materials from the 1960s and 1970s found in a Rastro bookstore earlier this year.
“Is it busy out there?” asks Isabelle, owner of La Casa de Maletas in El Rastro. That day was the first day of the Rastro for eight months, since the pandemic shut Europe’s largest open-air flea market down in the second week of March.
On 2 October, a power outage left around 1,000 houses in a Madrid neighbourhood without electricity. Almost 60 days later, the lines have still not been repaired – a situation that seems hard to believe, except for the fact that this neighbourhood is Sector 6 of the Cañada Real.
Along the Avenida de Pablo Iglesias in the north-west barrio of Buenas Vistas lies the aqueduct of Amaniel, a half-buried vestige of one of the most important engineering projects ever made in Spain.
Madrid No Frills is finally selling prints! Orders processed within one day, prints available to collect within three days or posted to your home within one week!
“The best pastelería in Madrid” is a bold claim, with the potential to spark messy cream fights. But a good argument can be made that El Artesano, a small pastry shop in Ventas serving the local community for over 50 years, is an honest contender.
The sun sets at around 4 pm in Warsaw, so it’s dark by the time protestors can leave their offices, schools and factories. As soon as they’re out of work, they wrap up warm, often in black and red, and head to the streets to protest against the patriarchal ruling class.
Worn paths strewn with broken bricks, bits of marble, litter and syringes crisscross the dusty land behind the building’s graffiti-scrawled bricks. A small temple-like structure draws the eye to the highest point. Inside it stands a battered five-foot tall white marble statue of the Virgin Mary, votive candles and carefully tended five-gallon buckets of red roses at her feet.
During lockdown, the nightly applause for healthcare workers here must have been epic. Thousands of people opened their windows onto their wide, windy boulevards and, for a few minutes, clapped as one giant entity within Spain’s biggest human beehive.
These stubborn little tin huts that churn out churros hold the torch of Madrid’s street food culture. Due to the Covid-19 pandemic and our new desire for outdoor eating, they’re a way of life that may well return!
“There’s nothing to do”, explains Nabil (not his real name). “We just wake up, eat and sleep”. Nabil, a 22-year-old Syrian refugee, has been living in the Nea Kavala camp in northern Greece, just next to the Macedonian border for almost one year.
La Guindalera’s traditional high streets and beautiful no-frills bars set it apart from its upmarket neighbour of Salamanca, writes Suzanne McCullagh, a resident and advocate of the area.
An anthem of resistance is the united response of the people of Vallecas against the President of the Comunidad de Madrid, Isabel Diáz Ayuso, who has imposed new restrictions to lock down Madrid’s poorest neighbourhoods and install border patrol.
Just before the pandemic, photojournalist Melanie Guil visited a small Spanish town in León that, for decades, has been fading from the map. She asked the residents’ of Fornela tell us their stories, and here they are.