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Josep Tarradellas

LOFTS IN JOSEP TARRADELLAS

Fate prefers bird’s-eye views

I approached a traffic light on Avinguda Sarrià, on my way back home, like any other day. As luck would have it, the stoplight (which was usually green) turned red and I stopped. Fate can be most capricious.

A good friend whom I had not seen for years stopped next to me. I greeted him happily and he gestured for me to stop on the curb so we wouldn’t block other drivers. The light turned green and everyone zoomed by in the usual rush of big cities. Little did I know that this would be the outset of the first AAA project. After hugs and chit chat he told me, “Well, I come from up there” as he pointed upwards.

“I have very old offices on the top floor of this building, and I don’t know what to do with them. I’ve had the advertised for lease for 6 years, and I also have them for sale, but things are looking bad”, he concluded. I was curious, and I changed my plans to eat at home. “Let me invite you to a bite to eat, we can catch up and then maybe you can show me?” An hour later my friend opened the armoured door to the 60s office on the 18th floor.

The first thing I saw were broken false ceiling plates on the ground—the cheap cork type. Light flickered from fluorescent fixtures that blinked and barely stayed on. What a dump. The dust and smell of moisture was overpowering. There were still some “bank office” furniture lying around—the type that should never have seen the light of day. But something made my feet freeze to the floor— the windows and views. You could see almost everything from El Masnou on one end to the airport on the other. These views are similar to what you can see from Carretera de las Aigües, but right in the centre of Barcelona.

I guess my friend was more used to these views than I, and he insisted on showing me the next room, the toilets and the area that housed the old computer rack. But I was not interested anymore. I could not stop gazing out the window and dreaming that someday my house would have a view like that. Two years later, I understood that just as chance is capricious enough to make one run into a friend at a traffic light, dreams—if pursued and fought for—become true.

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