A white fridge lies parked in mud, placed as a memorial in Paiporta.
There is a sofa and more furniture further down the street. Then come more fridges, rubble and mud in the nearby Barranco del Poyo riverbed.
Deadly floods raged through this village and others west and south of Valencia in eastern Spain a few months ago, after heavy rainfall further up in the mountains.
Three months on, it still looks like yesterday’s disaster. The damage is so extensive that the efforts of thousands of soldiers, police officers and firefighters plus thousands of volunteers is not immediately evident.
“So two or three months later, it still looks like this,” says a passer-by on one of the bridges, shaking her head as she gazes incredulously into the riverbed, before walking on.
Soldiers still handing out food, nappies
A cold drop – a phenomenon few had heard of – hit the area in October 2024, bringing down up to 491 millilitres of water within the space of a few hours – more than the region normally sees in a year.
The masses of water were so enormous that the “barrancos” – gorges that serve as drainage channels – collapsed, and the floods surged uncontrollably through the streets of towns in the area.
There were at least a total of 224 victims in the Valencia region – in Paiporta alone 45 people died. Eight more people died in Andalusia and the Castilla-La Mancha region.
A military vehicle stops at the Barranco del Poyo in Paiporta. Four soldiers get out and look into the riverbed. It’s several metres deep and wide and full of mud and household goods.
“We don’t know exactly what’s going to happen here either,” says one. “We’re working nearby in Algemesí, distributing food and nappies and wanted to take a look at the damage here.”
Many decisions still pending
Local politicians and people are also unsure about exactly how to proceed. Hundreds of buildings – including homes, shops and schools – in the disaster area are currently unusable, with many in danger of collapsing.
Numerous bridges, roads, railway lines and other infrastructure have also been damaged.
So far, Spain’s central government has made $16.6 billion available for reconstruction, aid for businesses and those affected plus compensation.
But many decisions remain outstanding and far-reaching questions are still unanswered. What can be built in view of the risk of new floods? How should riverbeds be adapted? And are there even enough building specialists to do the jobs?
Many communities have returned to some degree of normality. However, 28, including Paiporta, are still in emergency level two, meaning they rely on external help from the central government.
Some 4,000 soldiers from the Military Emergency Unit (UME) and the rest of the armed forces are still deployed.
Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez recently met mayors of the 28 towns, then conceded to the press that much remains to be done. “We have only taken the first steps so far.”
“One problem is that politicians are passing responsibility to each other,” says Óscar Rosaleny of the slow pace of reconstruction and constant finger-pointing between regional and central governments.
He lives in Catarroja, a few kilometres from Paiporta. He points on the wall of his home to how high the water rose. The mark almost reaches his chest.
Rosaleny, a graphic designer, says that there are also many questions about the numerous forms of aid, from compensation to purchase assistance for lost cars and reconstruction aid. It remains unclear why neighbours on the first floor who were not so badly affected have already received money while others, whose homes were completely destroyed, are stuck waiting.
Anger at late warning
Samuel Romero lives in Aldaia, a few kilometres from Paiporta. He could see the water rising incessantly from his flat on the third floor. The civil engineer had stayed at home that day because the state weather authority had issued the highest warning level, red.
Many people are still angry that the warning from the regional government’s civil defence department only appeared on mobile phones after 8 pm (1900 GMT) on October 29. Many houses and streets had long been flooded by then. “A timely and clear warning would have saved 224 lives,” he says.
Many were further outraged by the fact that the emergency services only appeared in affected areas days or weeks later. Often, local volunteers were the first responders – neighbours showing up on foot carrying shovels or brooms. “It is imperative that lessons are learnt from this, first and foremost that climate change and all its dangers are not negated,” says Romero.
As in Paiporta, many streets in Aldaia are deserted and in many places the shutters are down, bearing witness to the disappearance of local shops.
However, one building near the Barranco del Pozalet-Saleta is being diligently renovated. “It used to be a beauty parlour and will become one again,” says one of the craftsmen.
Isn’t the owner afraid of another disaster?
“No, why?” he says. “Life goes on.”
Paiporta has yet to return to normal. The normally dry Barranco del Poyo riverbed in Spain’s Paiporta is scarred by last year’s deadly flooding. Angelika Engler/dpa