When we see a dog chasing the wheels of a car, the question that arises is: what if he finally caught them, would he know what to do with them?
The Algarve has more or less the same relationship with water: generally dry, the region dreams of the precious liquid in abundance, but when it comes, the result is disastrous.
A millenary Latin adage – “water, life and death” – translates in a simple but effective way the presence of water in areas of Mediterranean influence. The fundamental water that nourishes and fertilizes the landscape is also the one that destroys everything in its path, if it is not given the necessary space. The internalization of this understanding was reflected in the way in which landscapes were built and occupied, modeling and spatializing a territorial logic of balance between constructive and destructive aspects.
Our current territorial model is quite different and, with it, our relationship with water has changed. Today we understand it merely as a consumer good, tradable, which runs in canals and pipes, and comes out of taps. The understanding and, mainly, respect, was lost for its power as a modeling agent of the landscape.
Two years ago, the Portuguese Environment Agency published the “Preliminary Assessment of Flood Risks in Mainland Portugal” report, which outlined a diagnosis of the Significant Potential Flood Risk Areas present in each of the eight hydrographic regions into which Portugal is divided Continental, with the central concern being the assessment of the threat to the integrity of people and goods.
In the Algarve, 13 areas at significant risk of flooding were accounted for, three in coastal areas, and the remaining ten in rain and/or river systems. But, as it has hardly rained since then… no one really cared.
The patterns of territorial occupation in the Algarve are marked by a deep disregard for the spatial needs of the fundamental systems of the landscape, among which the hydrographic network stands out.
We are thus witnessing the proliferation of occupations (from housing to industrial areas), diversions and bottlenecks of water lines and their flood beds, the artificialization and waterproofing of drainage basins (elimination of natural elements of water regulation such as meanders in its path, basins of retention and dissipation or the vegetation of riparian galleries), preventing infiltration and increasing speeds and energy in the system. Not to mention the general lack of cleaning and maintenance of banks and thalwegs, accumulating residues that are then dragged away, forming authentic rams.
A sort of landscape cholesterol, to make it more graphic.
Now when, as in recent days, the Algarve is like itself and receives torrential rain – which is, of course, yours – with sometimes absurd amounts of precipitation concentrated in very short intervals, causing rapid increases in flow rates and water levels, which have to flow somewhere… it's as if the region had authentically a heart attack, creating chaos. If all this is added to a high tide, the scenery in coastal areas becomes even Dantesque, due to the incapacitation of the rainwater drainage systems by the tide.
Projecting the potential for expansion that the phenomenon of climate change may have here, just choose the adjective.
This time, fortunately, there is no loss of life to be regretted, and the damage, although always significant (not least because the pandemic circumstance exacerbates fragilities and complicates recoveries), is not comparable to other occasions. But, at these times, I always like to remember the most epic justification given for these occurrences, coming from the ephemeral Minister of Internal Affairs Calvão da Silva, when in 2015 he visited Albufeira, in the wake of the floods that year: “nature's fury was not ours friend”, “God is not always a friend, he also thinks that from time to time he gives us periods of probation” or we faced “the force of nature in the demonic fury”.
Because if he verbalized it, the truth is that almost everyone practices this profession of faith with regard to this risk: do nothing (except, often, aggravate) and hope that everything goes for the best.
If it is a fact that there are situations that, due to their degree of consolidation, only allow for damage control, there are others in which the only thing that is lacking is will, and assuming the resolution of these vascular problems in the landscape as a task and a structural investment.
Otherwise… let's cross our fingers.
Author Gonçalo Gomes is a landscape architect, president of the Algarve Regional Section of the Portuguese Association of Landscape Architects (APAP).
(and writes according to the old Spelling Agreement)
Comments