lots

The history of the mamotreto The Theresies in Tenerife is not an exception, but one more chapter of a long tradition of shot attempts on the Spanish coastwhere for decades the brick advanced on beaches, marshes and cliffs in the heat of express reclassifications, opaque agreements and the promise of a tourist development that almost never arrived as had been announced. This was his story. Great balls with sea views. From Marbella to The Algarrobicopassing through ghost housing estates, illegal hotels and maritime fronts converted into political currency, the coast has been one of the great scenes of speculation, and each new case reminds us of the extent to which the conflict between public interest and private ambition has marked the transformation (and often the degradation) of the coastal landscape in Spain. A symbol that was born crooked. He mamotreto of Las Teresitas It began to raise suspicions long before it became a court case on the island of Tenerife because it appeared where it shouldn’t and how it shouldn’t, emerging without explanation in full maritime-terrestrial public domain, without visible signs and without anyone clearly knowing what was being built in front of the beach or under what legal protection. It was the persistent gaze of neighbors as Lola Schneider the one that set off the first alarms and turned that concrete skeleton into something more than an ugly work: into physical proof that a project was being carried out on the beach front that seemed to be ahead of the law and urban planning logic. Change the beach. Behind the mamotreto was the ambition to transform Las Teresitas into a large urban beach of European reference, with a plan signed by Dominique Perrault which promised to bury parking lots, create open squares and reorganize access to the sea. On paper, the visible mass was supposed to be buried and become an invisible infrastructure at the service of public space, but the partial execution and the breakdown of the balance between administrations turned that promise into an abandoned, gray and dominant structure that ended up being just the opposite of what the project claimed to pursue. The ball The construction of the parking lot was inserted in the heart of the so-called great ball from Las Teresitasoccupying easements and land in the public domain without the mandatory authorizations from Costas and with substantial modifications to the original project. Subsequent rulings made it clear that this was not a minor defect or a forgotten procedure, but rather a a global breach of the urban planning regulations, with works started without legal support while, in parallel, the City Council had purchased the beach front land for more than 52 million of euros in an operation that was already under judicial scrutiny. Justice arrives. The stoppage of works in 2007 marked the point of no return and paved the way to the investigation of the Environmental Prosecutor’s Office, prompted by environmental and neighborhood complaints. The judicial process ended with sentences for urban prevarication and crimes against territorial planning, confirmed by the Court, which established unambiguously that the mamotreto was built without valid authorization and on protected land, dismantling any subsequent attempt to reduce the problem to a simple question of partial legalization. The political and criminal cost. Not only that. The sentences reached to former councilors, technicians and senior officials, some of whom have already fully served their prison and disqualification sentences, while others remain banned from holding public office until the end of the decade. The case was thus established as another branch of the great Las Teresitas scandal, with clear criminal responsibilities and an express obligation to restitute the damage caused, which included the demolition of the building at the expense of the convicted. The demolition In 2017, a horrible mass that had remained in front of the beach for years was physically put to an end. The arrival of heavy machinery to the beach and the visible start of the demolition They marked the material end of a story that had continued for more than a decade. The destruction of concrete, carried out in compliance with a final sentence and after years of delays, it symbolized the closing of a cycle in which the mamotreto went from urban promise to abandoned ruin and, finally, to rubble, returning to the landscape a beach that had been kidnapped by the failure of a “plotazo.” One more. If you like, even though the mamotreto physically disappeared and the sentences were fulfilled, its history remains as permanent warning (one more) about the limits of uncontrolled urbanism, the fragility of the public domain in the face of political and economic interests and the price that a city can pay when projects are imposed on legality. The Theresies of Tenerife recovered space and horizon, but the mamotreto was placed in that monstrous row that is part of the collective memory of the Canary Islands and Spain: that of the emblems of how one should not build a city or, of course, manage its natural heritage. Image | CARLOS TEIXIDOR CADENAS In Xataka | Añaza’s mamotreto: the megahotel abandoned on the coast of Tenerife for 40 years that was never finished In Xataka | The Canary Islands face the irremediable dilemma of limiting tourism. Starting by charging to climb Teide