INTRODUCTION

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This essay sets out to explore informal settlement processes in Europe by the example of the Cañada, an urbanisation located in the outskirts of Spain’s capital city, Madrid. The Cañada is one of Europe’s last large-scale, permanent, informally grown settlements. As a remnant of multicultural historic urbanisation patterns adapted to the 20th and early 21st century context, it has been subsequently built up and transformed since the 1970s - for a long time a designated blind spot in the government authorities’ field of vision. As recently as 2016, Madrid’s government officially recognised the informal settlement and thus enforced a plan to incorporate the uncontrolled and illegal growth into the city’s formal system. At this historical turning point, it is crucial to closely examine the evolution of the Cañada, an extraordinary urban environment which has evolved over the past 50 years. 

Characterised by articles like “Showdown Looms Over Europe’s Largest Shanty Town“ [2], or  “Drug clans take control in shanty town where Madrid’s politicians fear to tread“ [3], the long ribbon-like settlement has come to be stigmatised as one of Europe’s most disordered, messiest urban entities. It is the aim of this work to approach the issue of informal housing in Europe from an architectural and analytical angle, in order to understand the circumstances leading to a specific informally built urban fabric. As part of a wider research scope, this essay serves as an introduction to the Cañada. It will mainly focus on the description and a brief analysis of built entities encountered within the elongated village. 

Spanish sociologists and social workers, as well as occasional researchers from other European countries have recently become more engaged in the settlement and its inhabitants. While most publications concentrate on the socio-economic side of the phenomenon, very few projects have dealt with its built form so far. At this time, architectural work concerning the Cañada ranges from urban regeneration schemes to landscape design, infrastructural suggestions and attempts at poverty reduction. However, this essay focuses on the uniqueness of the Cañada’s originally grown built form and its exceptional status in contemporary European urban building history. The focus of this paper is not on suggestions of alteration or problem-solving; in a historical-architectural sense, the settlement cannot simply be considered a problem, but should be regarded as a revealing and refreshing case study.     

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Research material for this essay consists of continuous studies of the Cañada’s environment since 2015. Site visits,  combined with detailed analysis of aerial photographs, form the centerpiece of this work. Historical aerial pictures since 1975, as well as statistics and surveys provided by the consulate for the Cañada Real in Madrid [4], further illustrate the issue. As outlined before, this essay will focus on the built form of the Cañada rather than its socio-economic components. In order to identify settlement characteristics, a comparison between historical examples of settlement structures is one of the methods applied. Furthermore, analytical drawings help in bringing out information which would otherwise remain undiscovered in the diverse, overflowing landscape of the informally built form. 

THE CAÑADA

Once a thriving transhumance, the Cañada Real Galiana [5] in the outskirts of Madrid has transformed in appearance. The historic cattle drive of approximately 70 metres [6]  width has increasingly been built on from both sides towards the middle of the path since the 1960’s [7]. Starting from San Fernando de Henares, a town located in the outskirts of Madrid, the ribbon of illegal buildings stretching linearly in a southern direction as far as the Río Manzanares offers an amazing sight: first multi-storey town houses, then holiday homes, residential buildings, caravans and industrial plants of different development typologies follow one another closely. The ”Cañada” [8] is a short term used colloquially for the entire diverse settlement, comprised of a 7000 person population [9] which in turn belongs to several ethnical and cultural groups. Apart from Spaniards, mostly Gitanos, Gitanas [10], migrants from the Maghreb, and other minority groups live in the illegal settlement of the Cañada Real. [11]

Since its official recognition, authorities have subdivided the extending settlement Cañada Real Galiana into six sectors. As the linear structure of this colony is situated in the border area of the capital Madrid and its suburban towns Coslada and Rivas-Vaciamadrid, it crosses three administrative areas. This fact, as well as a 12th century law  which mandates the width of 90 ells of cattle drives clear of any other use than transhumance, may have contributed to intense illegal building activity within the last decades. After all, the historical cattle drive is state property which no private landowner could claim legally from the informal settlers and there is also an administrative grey zone on the periphery of three converging administrative districts. The favourable location of the Cañada Real Galiana, which is clustering close to Madrid with an overall length of 13 kilometres, can be seen as a further advantageous factor for the settlement density of the illegal development along this section of the cattle drive. Where public authorities have turned a blind eye since the 1970s, the biggest illegal settlement in Europe has thus developed without oversight or restriction into a unique urban structure translating the residents’ nature into a direct, spontaneous architecture. From this perspective, this informal urban experiment - and one of the last slum areas of Europe - serves as a unique case study on a continent where the accidental, unpredictable moment in architecture has been otherwise banished into history books. 

Travelling Through The Cañada’s 6 Sectors

A drive through the Cañada’s six sectors (as a part of my field research carried out in 2017) provided great insight into the dual spatial and social dynamics of the ribbon-like village. The following passages are extracts from my notes on observations and experiences from that journey: 

Sector 1. After arriving in San Fernando de Henares, we stop between blocks of flats of this suburb of Madrid while looking for the entry to the Cañada. We finally find its main road by walking through a very small alley, the width of which is equivalent to the length of my lower arm. At this point the traffic is still regulated, the streetscape clear and organised. The road of the Cañada leading out of town is lined with one-storey and two-storey buildings on both sides, evoking an image of colonial towns in other parts of the world. The houses huddle tightly packed here with their entrances close together and are oriented towards the main road. There are clotheslines on the recessed balconies and curtains preventing a glance into the interior of the single houses. Further down the road we discover little walled front gardens and backyards. 

There are a few unpaved paths leading behind these developments into a vast field covered with dry grass. Single vegetable patches and tool sheds directly adjoin the densely developed interior of the Cañada.

Sector 2. Leaving the first sector, we also leave San Fernando de Henares behind us. The unsurfaced road is muddy and full of giant puddles. On a short patch of the road we pass under a motorway bridge. Here the development becomes less dense, urban houses turn into suburban detached houses surrounded by walls. On the right side of the road there is a DHL delivery van. Since the houses here are illegal, they do not have official post addresses. Nevertheless, most of them have an elaborate ornamented house number plaque. We also pass a refuse collection vehicle of the suburb Coslada. Since there is no pavement or buffer zone between the garden walls and the road, the metal dust bins are actually placed in the middle of the road. We get out of the car at one of the rare road junctions. The little dead end road on our right functions as an access road for several houses. Here the rising topography limits the terrain. There is an amazing view of the narrow, built-up ribbon nestling into the landscape from north to south. 

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Sector 3. We continue our car ride in first gear. Nothing of the development we are passing is predictable. Puddles are lining the road and gradually getting deeper the further south we are moving. Suddenly, one of the puddles extends to both sides of the road on an extremely narrow spot. An off-road vehicle would be rather convenient at that moment. A battered dark green car approaches us slowly from the opposite side of the mud hole. The driver and her two children on the back seats seem to be relaxed and a bit amused about our perplexity. The woman drives without the slightest hesitation and a rumbling noise over the rim of the ditch. The rear end of her car is tilted dangerously while water is splashing from both sides of the car. She steers her vehicle to the opposite side of the giant puddle, waves to us, and disappears with a rattling engine into the jungle of illegal development.

Sector 4. Our next stop is at an unsurfaced car park at the crossroads of the M-B23, a clear road functioning as direct connection to the capital. Opposite the road, sector 4 of the Cañada begins. A group of Gitanos cast glances from some distance across the road into our direction and seem to be caught up in an agitated discussion. Taking out my little camera causes even greater excitement on the opposite side of the road. Since it is our intention to continue our journey, we get into the car and approach the group. They are stupefied by our asking them the way, but it does not take long until they question us: “Qué están haciendo aquí?” [12]. We respond that we are only passing through. “Ah, son turistas!” [13] , the boss of our group calls out. The tension disappears from their faces. They give us lots of advice and we continue our trip through sector 4. It is striking to see only one-storey buildings on both sides of the road similar to miniature detached farmhouses. All the buildings seem to be erected in a light and transparent way so that you wonder if they are to be seen as a building entity or something belonging to outdoor space. Car tyres are lying on top of the corrugated-iron roofs to weigh them down and secure them. These houses fringe the edge of the settlement like shacks. Finally we cross the motorway tunnel. It is noisy here and the traffic rumbles through the large tunnel beneath. In front of us the development of the Cañada comes to a halt. The extensive open space above the intersection, opening up within the dense populated area, gives us an impression of the unreal. There is a short moment of breathing freely before plunging again into the Cañada. 

Sector 5. Ahead of us, the central road of the Cañada widens. An unusual situation comes into focus: There is a chair upside down in a hole in the middle of a crossroad in front of us. To the right a surfaced street leads into the suburban town Rivas-Vaciamadrid. School premises border in close vicinity to the Cañada. The upside-down chair poking out from the ground at the intersection of sector 4 and 5 obviously serves the purpose of regulating traffic, much like a roundabout. Beyond the chair, the road leads slightly down to sector 5 of the Cañada. The densely built area rarely provides accidental green space or sight lines into the open space behind the development. Adjacent buildings of two and three storeys are interlocked without any distance and attempt to avoid direct contact. From the corners of our eyes we recognise the scaled-down minaret of a mosque. Fine little alleys and walking trails lead into the building complex and out of our eyesight. Behind that, formal-looking, ten-storey buildings come into our visual field. A chain link fence blithely separates this gigantic, legal residential area from the lower development of the Cañada.

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Sector 6. Emerging from underneath a large cloverleaf interchange, we enter sector 6. Here we can see the makeshift environment in a new way: Gitano women are sitting on the roadside in front of improvised shacks. Plastic sheets serve as protective roofs between caravans while smoke hangs over the whole scenery. From time to time we cast a glance at people on the side of the road who move on staggeringly. Gaps between buildings alternate between empty spaces or piles of old building rubble. In between the debris children are playing. The road through the Cañada has turned into a beaten, rain-soaked muddy track, which we are again driving along in first gear. In this sector, driving along slowly close by burning car tyres, it feels dangerous to take more pictures. When I try to get a snapshot anyway, an agitated woman gestures furiously into our direction from her seat in front of a caravan. We are being watched all the time. When asking a young woman the way to the “Parroquia Santo Domingo”, a church well known in the neighbourhood, she explains that we should continue a bit further and then turn right. Despite her instruction, we miss the turn leading up to the church. Instead, we pass sturdy gates and driveways of factory buildings between empty sites and shack-like residential developments. After driving a few kilometres, developments decrease on both sides of the road. Almost abruptly we find ourselves surrounded by trees and wild gardens in a loosely built-on stretch of land. Every now and then small houses are visible on the properties. Now the unsurfaced track leads gently through the landscape with trees lining its sides. The Cañada is again an idyllic path - no longer a road convoyed by settlements on both sides. 

Travelling back to Madrid we suddenly recognise the church Santo Domingo we couldn’t find earlier. We stop in front of it. Further downhill towards the Cañada, several buses from local relief organisations are parked. Social workers distribute food and water to heroin addicts. When I furtively try to take a picture again, a screaming man gets out of his car and approaches us angrily. “He, no tomes foto aquí!” [14], he shouts at me and starts cursing at the top of his voice. He need not make it any clearer.

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SETTLEMENT TYPOLOGIES

The site visit illustrated above, in combination with data about the Cañada’s demography [15] as well as detailed analysis of aerial images from different decades, facilitated the identification of three main informal settlement typologies in the course of this work. These typologies spread across the entire settlement and are supplemented only by industrial buildings and fallow land. Depending on the respective typology, clusters of dwelling units, as well as detached houses, can be observed throughout the ribbon-like village. This section concentrates on three specific segments of the Cañada, each of which is characterized by one of the three identified urban typologies. 

Spanish detached houses

Large parts of the sectors 2 to 6 are covered by plots with detached houses. Characteristics of the typology are analysed in this chapter by the prototypical example of settlement patterns encountered between km 1.8 and 2.0. [16] What is particularly eye-catching is the strong distinction between the main building and its annexes, the singular plot access, the nearly identical building shapes, as well as the relation between covered and uncovered areas. Generally, the houses erected on both sides of the Cañada’s main road are located centrally on their building plots. In rare cases, the position of the main house is located along plot boundaries. An important attribute of these detached houses is that they seem to be exclusively built for living purposes. Every house is surrounded by a garden and enclosed by up to 2m high garden walls, which protect the private space from unwelcome looks or unauthorised access. Furthermore, an abrupt transition between the garden walls and the Cañada’s main street, between what is private property and public interest, is extremely noticeable. Even cars are parked inside the plot areas in designated parking lots or the driveway. Access to the building plots lead from the main street directly into each habitant’s property. One massive front gate, made from iron or other robust materials, restricts access to the house beyond the wall. In some cases, more than one gate forms part of the exterior wall. Generally, the front door of the main house faces towards the public main street. The detached residential houses within this typology typically are one to three storeys, and have pitched or hipped roofs. Outbuildings, such as garages and smaller sheds, usually are single-storeyed with simple mono-pitch roofing. A loose and open site development is typical, as the main houses are located centrally on their plots and rarely about neighbouring houses. Hence, the emerging outdoor spaces around the individual houses appear as “leftovers”. It is typically used as an extended living-room for leisure time activities, but not for professional, industrial or commercial occupations.

Campsites of the Gitanos 

This building typology mainly occurs in the area of the sectors 3 and 4, and sporadically also in sector 5. Similar Gitano settlements are vaguely recognisable in sector 6 as well. However, their loose structures are indicative of temporary housing that changes frequently. This section refers to the Gitanos’ more permanent building units in sector 4, between km 3.1 and 3.3. [17] The significant aspects of the Gitanos’ dwelling places are single-storeyed houses and a fluid, barrier-free transition between the interior and outdoor spaces. In this context a typical “house” is composed of many units, which group alongside exterior walls and around a common open space. In this way, a central yard acts as a distributor space. The emerging typology creates an image of trailers placed around a shared square. Even though the singular houses only partly consist of wagons or caravans, the overall impression conveys a light, nomadic building style. Additionally, most buildings are covered by mono-pitched or flat roofs. Within the settlement, exterior walls define different housing units. In most cases access is made from the Cañada’s main street into the unit, as well as through numerous apertures leading towards the open field and hinterland. These open spaces behind the settlement are usually used as parking areas for cars and trailers.   As means of transportation they play a significant role in the habitant’s daily life and thus form an important part of this typology [18], as J. Liégeois states in his book about Roma and Sinti: “Mixed dwelling forms emerge: the bordering terrain of the house facilitates the parking of one or more trailers, inhabited or not, which in any case provide the possibility of making a journey.“ [19]

The Maghrebian quarter 

The typology designated “Maghrebian quarter“ in the course of this work covers large parts of the second half of sector 4, as well as most areas of sector 5. Its characteristics are analysed in this unit based on the section km 5.8 to 6.0.[20]  What is most distinguishing for this building typology - which was transferred from the Arab regions to Madrid’s periphery - is its high density. Within the Cañada, the Maghrebian unit is composed of a multitude of cells which together form a complex structure. With advanced building activity, the settlement density increases as well. As a result, streets turn into paths and paths into blind alleys until there is barely enough room left to access individual housing units. The Maghrebian quarter encountered in the Cañada bears a strong resemblance with historic Near Eastern neighborhoods described by Paul Lampl: “With the growth of the population behind the fortified enclosure, the open spaces disappear, the irregular interstices between the single houses are filled by an agglomeration of other buildings, the thorough-fares are reduced to a minimum, and only narrow lanes and dead-end alleys are left to provide access to most houses. [...] Nowhere is any room left for gardens or green areas.“ [21] Because these settlement structures are never located alongside busy roads, the Cañada’s main street was redirected around the quarter.

As in this case, access within Maghrebian units in the Cañada is usually provided by dead-end streets, guaranteeing a complex gradient from public to private space. The blind alley only serves as an entrance to the unit’s singular houses and is rarely frequented. The buildings are up to four storeys high and covered by walkable flat roofs with balustrades. Additionally, small sheds, storerooms and staircases are erected on top of these flat roofs. Because almost the whole area is covered by buildings or access paths, these terraces act as private outdoor spaces, located safely within a dense building structure, far from the Cañada’s busy main road. 

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SAFETY AS A CONSTITUENT FACTOR

Since the Cañada is an illegal settlement, it exists somewhat outside the legislative system. As a result, its settlers must be self-reliant in matters of protection. The importance of safety, especially in the built domestic environment, can be derived from the manifold solutions the Cañada’s inhabitants apply in order to secure their lives and the space claimed for their personal use. This chapter singles out three main strategies for creating a safe environment, which correspond directly with the three main typologies described in the previous chapter. In regard to building history, safety undoubtedly accounts as one of the most critical factors for shaping primeval settlement processes. A close look at the Cañada’s structural composition highlights this common denominator. For, even though the encountered settlement strategies differ greatly from one another, they share a need for safety as the same starting point.

The demarcation of “inside” and “outside” depicts European awareness of safety 

European approaches to creating spaces of relative safety follow a long tradition: Antique Roman garrisons surrounded by walls, fenced Germanic-Roman estates and Villae Rusticae of Central Europe, as well as monasteries and castle buildings during the Middle Ages, exemplify the separation of isolated entities. The detached house attains its safety by establishing a border. Distance to neighbours and to the road limit the possibility of danger, which could be the consequence of proximity to the public realm. A wall or hedge surrounding the property offers additional security as well as help to distinguish house and garden from the surrounding environment. Therefore, the manner of building within the Cañada embodies a thousands of years old thinking about the detached house. Security means retreat and barriers between the individual and the environment. 

Nomadism represents security via movement  

For nomads the direct connection to an arterial road signifies the opportunity to leave the settlement anytime in case of threat. Light constructions on wheels, easily demountable tents and carriages, are crucial in serving as security mechanisms in a nomadic population which opposes sedentary societies. In addition, the clan as a community offers shelter for the individual. Being excluded from the group poses as much a threat as the loss of identity and independence due to a sedentary lifestyle. [22]

Density and complexity of Arabic structures give shelter

Parts of Arabic building structures are often built closer to the public space, or conversely, are especially withdrawn into the interior of the settlement. The narrow crooked pathways, intertwined rooms, and hidden doorways mean that one requires certain knowledge to fully understand their surroundings. Safety created by retreating into a dense building arrangement is as important as the shelter provided by the community. In conclusion, the individual dwelling unit acts as part of a greater building unit. The entirety of the settlement, not merely any one distinctive construction, is crucial. It is not the individual which protects the group, but the collective. 

CONCLUSION

“It is paradoxical that current terminology uses “informal” to refer to a condition that both is more prevalent now and was more common in the past; in comparison, the formal system seems relatively rudimentary.“ [23]

The Cañada forms a unique opportunity. Due to its exceptional geographic location between the African continent and Europe, Spain acts as an intermediary between the global North and South. Additionally, it bridges and connects the Atlantic Ocean to the Mediterranean Sea. Therefore, it is not entirely coincidental that in the heart of Spain - in the periphery of its capital city Madrid - three completely different, distinct informal housing typologies can be found   within the Cañada Real. All of these typologies account for the European understanding of living environments and can be considered reminiscent of primeval forms of habitation: the isolated detached house, the nomadic dwelling form, and the densely built-up urban quarter. 

Originally used as cattle paths, the Cañadas Reales serve as a symbol of transhumance. The traditions of transhumance developed as a result of seasonal changes in the northern hemisphere [24], and represent a profound part of Europe’s history. Migration of peoples, trade, cultural exchange and diversity are key parts to the European identity.   

Informal building processes have marked human evolution since its beginning. But what is striking is the fact that the main features of this so-called informality only lack form and organisation at first glance. In the case of the Cañada, communal actions set by different social groups created rules that articulate themselves specifically for its cultural context and built environment. This can be observed in the built solutions for infrastructure, safety or common spaces, among many other constitutive elements. Culturally similar, though never identical, architectural solutions are the outcome of these informal habitation processes. 

In order to recognise the Cañada’s relevance to European building history, as well as its unique position in contemporary architectural theory, it is important to accept its built form for what it is: not an architectural problem in need of restructuring, nor a dangerous and disruptive borough caught in between agricultural land on one side and burgeoning high-rise developments on the other. Almost all of the attributes which challenge the Cañada’s right to exist are, at the same time, reinforcing the importance of its presence: Order and disorder, cleanliness and dirt, formality and informality, all come as inseparable pairs intrinsic to all urban entities, hidden even in the most orderly of places. If we allow it, the Cañada can help us remember that. 

[1] The starting point for this essay was research conducted in the course of my master thesis in 2017. 

[2] ‘Showdown Looms Over Europe’s Largest Shanty Town‘, www.npr.org (accessed 17 April 2012)

[3]  ‘Drug clans take control in shanty town where Madrid’s politicians fear to tread‘, www.theguardian.com (accessed 16 November 2009)

[4] Consejería de Transportes, Vivienda e Infrastructura“, an institution installed by the Spanish government in 2016 for the settlement’s incorporation into the legal system