Getting hooked on life in Torres Blancas de Madrid

When our friend Richard Signey invited us to visit him at his new residence in Torres Blancas, Madrid, we asked him why he chose a location that would bring him far from his place of work, as well as from the center of Madrid. He didn’t answer and instead took us to the house and let it speak for itself. Indeed, in the two and a half weeks that we resided there, we were completely enchanted by it and understood why Richard would suffer the inconveniences for the wonder and grandeur of living within its towers.

Built in the late 1960s by Architect Francisco Javier Saenz de Oiza as an experiment in vertical building in the city, it was to have been two towers, the other not seeing the light of day for some reason, although it retained the name of Torres Blancas.

Upon entry, one is accosted by one surprise after another.  There appears to be an inordinate fascination with circles in and out of the building, from the stairs to the garden, to the view from the 13th level apartment 1330 where we stayed which was the best as far as we were concerned. From our vantage point, we got a circular view all around. We recall opening the windows to wave goodbye to Richard rushing on his way to work. Upon climbing up the circular steps, we would reach the top floor where the circular swimming pool could be found.

This building of reinforced concrete stood out in comparison with all the other buildings in the area for its unique concept for which it was given the European Award of Excellence in 1972. Situated at the corner of 37 Avenue of the Americas and Calle del Corazon de Maria 2, the building had more than architecture going for it.

There are the residents, namely, Teresa, Marga and her friend Sara, Alfredo, Lucas and his dog Silfo, a huge, loving and disciplined four-year-old German Shepherd. Apart from them, there are innumerable visitors who would drop in at a moment’s notice and stay for a week, a month or a year — no one knows — but are always welcomed.

One could comment that it would be impossible for everything about Torres Blancas to be completely perfect.  Certainly, there would be a few faults here and there, yet even these shortcomings contribute to the artistry of the residence.

We cannot possibly speak of Torres Blancas without mentioning our own particular attraction to it. We do not know what makes its floors creak at every step one takes, but this very often is what awakens us late at night. It is obvious to all who know us well that we believe in guardian angels, ghosts, spirits, poltergeists and white imps — welcome their existence and trust they had been put on earth for a purpose. We will not go into details but we are convinced that Torres Blancas is inhabited by such creatures to guard each resident and keep him safe from harm. We further believe that each one did not come into the house by accident but was chosen precisely to be together for some period of time; that every twist and turn, every moan from a person dreaming in his sleep is a sign of contentment.

The longer we stayed at Torres Blancas, the more we became addicted to its multiple attractions, man or woman, young or elderly, dog or cat. Teresa is easily the most charming, coming across as one with simple wants and needs, yet concealing within her a knowledge of various subjects few have even heard of. Then there is Marga, always rushing off to go somewhere then quickly forgetting her destination. We felt with her a sisterhood of forgetfulness, of which Richard is most familiar. How often have we forgotten the name of a friend who lives only down the street, or invite Richard to go to a new place to eat, oblivious that we had already brought him there before.

There is also Alfredo who is very often locked up in his room, his comings and goings unscheduled, sometimes early in the morning, sometimes way past midnight. We don’t exactly know what his work is but it has something to do with movies since very often we would mention the title of a film and would find out that he had already watched it. He is often the very first to awaken in the morning and while he takes his tea, he serves us the special blend of coffee he had mixed just for us. And there is also Marcella, the cleaning lady from Ecuador, who comes three times a week to wash everyone’s clothes and mop the floor. She dreams of one day returning home to visit relatives and is definitely saving up for the trip possibly by next Christmas.

This conglomeration of individuals who all speak Spanish as a native language except for Richard, a full-blooded Pinoy who teaches English in a school for young Españoles and speaks Spanish better than the natives. Had it not been for Richard’s dark Filipino skin, one would easily mistake him for a Castilian.

The longer we stayed in Torres Blancas, the more we felt we didn’t need the outside world. A short walk down the street took us to the grocery, the drugstore and even a movie theater. This wasn’t good for the health, we told ourselves.  We were getting too comfortable, so we made plans to return home. It was just too bad that most of the residents of the building were out of town at the time.

On our last day in town, Alfredo, Marga, Sara and I had our own despedida drinking Kahlua and red wine, which we all downed with gusto, while toasting to Kahlua and to Chavacano (we have forgotten the connection) until it was daybreak, time to take the taxi to the airport and catch the plane that would bring us home.

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