I have lived in Santa Maria de l’Avall for more than fifteen years. I have spent a large part of my life here, on these quiet streets; I have known my neighbors all my life and I have felt this place as a home I would not trade for anything.

That is why I find it so hard to accept that, almost without warning, everything we built —not only our houses but also our peace, our routine, our coexistence— could be at risk due to a construction project that no one explained to us clearly, neither in its scope nor in its real consequences.

The technical report of the project speaks of one year of work, but in those same pages words appear that we all understand: interruptions due to weather, traffic diversions, replacement of damaged services, compromised accesses, excavators, noise, dirt.

Words that, translated into our daily lives, mean years of inconveniences and a neighborhood turned into a permanent construction site.

I am not an engineer, but I am a technician and, above all, a neighbor. And as a neighbor, I know how to read between the lines. And what I read worries me. A lot. Here is my humble opinion:

1. A project without clear funding is the scenario for disaster

I have searched, I have reread, I have asked:

In the 581 pages, there is not a single guarantee of real funding.

There are no lines of credit.

There are no guarantees.

There are no contingency funds.

There are no reserves for unforeseen events.

Nothing.

If money runs out mid-construction —due to non-payment, cost overruns, or technical problems— the work stops.

And when such a work stops, it does not go back:

- Streets remain torn up,

- trenches remain open,

- mobility remains blocked,

- life remains suspended.

And this is not an exaggeration: it is the most likely scenario when a project of this magnitude is financed solely from the neighbors' pockets.

Such a work cannot be improvised. Especially when it is financed with the savings of hundreds of families.

2. A project that can last much, much longer than promised

And yet, they tell us it will be only one year.

But on page 12 of the report it is expressly mentioned:

“Work stoppages due to weather impediments.” (Page 12)

It rains here. It gets windy here. Here the slopes turn any storm into a torrent.

If the work stops every time the weather makes it difficult, how can anyone promise it will finish in a year?

The report acknowledges interruptions, but the official discourse insists on an impossible deadline.

3. Poorly identified services: electricity, water, gas, fiber... everything at risk

This scared me especially when I discovered it:

in dozens of plans, the same warning appears:

“The data reflected in this plan is indicative.” (Page 255)

“Indicative”?

That means they do not know exactly where the cables and pipes are that give us electricity, water, gas, internet, and telephone.

Now let's think about what it implies to open more than 400 trenches in all our streets, one per plot.

It's pure statistics: the more trenches, the more breakages.

- Power cut.

- Water cut.

- Gas cut.

- Fiber cut.

Not due to a great catastrophe, but due to simple probability.

And the report acknowledges it again:

“Replacements of existing services.” (Page 12)

If they already take for granted that they will have to be replaced... it means they will break.

4. Cut accesses, torn up streets, dirt, and continuous works

The same document foresees:

“Provisional traffic diversions”

“Accessibility to plots” (Page 12)

That is to say:

entry to our homes will be limited, conditioned, or directly blocked during part of the work.

I think about the elderly, those dependent on home help, those caring for small children, those who need the car to go to work.

And I think about how your life changes when you cannot even leave or enter normally.

5. Deep excavations and hard rock: this is not a minor work

The budget details that trenches can reach 3.5 meters deep and that excavation is done on:

“All types of terrain including hard rock.” (Page 1)

You don't have to be an expert to know what excavating rock means: noise, vibration, slowness, dust entering through windows even if closed, hammering for hours.

Are we really prepared to live with that for months... or even years, right in front of our houses?

Conclusion: Our urbanization deserves something better than a leap into the void

I do not write this to generate fear.

I write it because I believe we deserve truth, clarity, and responsible decisions.

I have seen the documentation. I have read every page. And what I see is a disproportionate, risky project deeply disconnected from the real lives of those of us who live here.

We cannot allow our urbanization to become an indefinite construction site.

We cannot accept that our daily lives remain in the hands of a project that even in its technical report acknowledges risks, doubts, and fragilities.

We are still in time. But only if we speak clearly and act together.

Vet. Santa Maria de l'Avall, November 2025

Such a work cannot be improvised. Especially when it is financed with the savings of hundreds of families.