A square for three seasons

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e Lleida it is said that it only has three seasons: winter, summer, and the train station. It's a recurring joke to take with a bit of humor the meteorological rigor that characterizes the capital of Ponent. We could summarize it like this: in winter you freeze – and on foggy days it gets not only into your bones, but even into your dreams – and in summer a scorching sun beats down and there's nowhere to hide. The middle ground is hard to find. And that's why the third clearest season to count for Lleida is the train station. It's not just any station. The monumental building dates from 1927 and has little to envy the Estación de Francia in Barcelona or Portbou, to name two stations that can be considered referential for their architectural elegance, touched with a certain French neoclassical air (evaluating the railway service of each one is another matter entirely).

As a curiosity, this is one of the few Catalan stations that bring together trains from two different operators, Renfe and Ferrocarrils de la Generalitat

Since 2003, when the first high-speed train from Madrid arrived, the station in the capital of Segrià adopts the lavish name of Lleida-Pirineos. Apart from high-speed services to Camp de Tarragona and Barcelona, the line to Barcelona and Manresa (the train first arrived in Lleida from this side, in 1860) and the line to La Pobla de Segur (the line to Balaguer was first launched in 1924, which 25 years later would reach La Pobla) depart from there. As a curiosity, this is one of the few Catalan stations that bring together trains from two different operators, Renfe and Ferrocarrils de la Generalitat. All of this makes Lleida station, located in a rather privileged and relatively central enclave, a stone's throw from the Segre river, on the border with the historic center and the area where the city expands, a place of passage for all kinds of people.

The place the traveler seeks – here the name is especially apt – is on the train or at the train's destination or in the tasks of the night or the next day. The station square embodies better than anyone the restless nature of today's individual: in reality, we are not where we are

A train station square –in this series dedicated to exploring the country's squares, we had not yet stopped at any of this typology–, a train station square –I was saying– is, by definition, a mere place of passage, without spark or charm, where one is always in a hurry, where as a general rule one arrives late. Even someone waiting for someone adopts the air of waiting for a short time, anxiously looking at their watch because the train has already arrived or is about to leave.

Despite the attempt that the four benches distributed along Lleida station square –and a few sporadic trees– may suggest, it does not seem like a place to spend much time. The place the traveler seeks –here the name is especially fitting– is on the train or at the train's destination or in the tasks of the night or the next day. The station square embodies better than anyone the restless nature of today's individual: in reality, we are not where we are, we are not where our feet are because we would already want to be somewhere else while we regret what we left behind. The square is an ungrateful traffic towards who knows what. Observing this hustle and bustle, some amusing conclusions can be drawn about the traveler's profile, picturesquely mixed here. Rarely does the ecosystem we inhabit come together on a patch of ground in such a varied pastiche. In the morning, students arrive. At night, executives. From the high-speed train coming from Madrid, suited types get off, suitcase in hand and determined to tie up some business, attend a conference or similar. If the train comes from Seville, it is more likely that family members coming to visit relatives will get off. In the case of the Avant arriving from Barcelona and Tarragona –a cheaper regional train than the AVE– we will see students and workers. And from the regional train from La Pobla, we will most likely see students and grandmothers without a driver's license get off. If it is ski season, a part of the high-speed train's passengers will go towards the Pyrenees and complete the last radiation edge of this communicative hub –often too forgotten– that is Lleida.

A couple –they seem to be students– linger before entering the station. Now a joke, now some laughter, oblivious to the train schedule, whether it's winter or summer. They seem to have all the time in the world

Some of the newly arrived travelers will head to the station's parking lot. Above, behind a fence, they will see the clearings of a forest of column filaments, planted in a concrete pot. They are the aesthetically imaginative form taken by the foundations left to build, in the future, a shopping center. A friend explains to me that the topic is being discussed again, that perhaps they will do it. Looking closely, the square in front of a station can also be the symbol of impatient waits, of that impression of seeing trains pass that have been wasted. And then there are the small decisions that take place and that, not because they are routine, lose importance. The restaurant where to eat, a city map, I want to go to the Seu Vella first, why don't we go closer to the river, right there we have the tourist office...

A group of four retirees leaves the station and tries to create a quorum on which way to go.

–Let's walk a bit, to work up an appetite before lunch, it's still early.

Three young Moroccans hug their family, who have come to meet them. The matriarch watches them beaming while the father urges them to get in the car.

A couple –they seem to be students– linger before entering the station. Now a joke, now some laughter, oblivious to the train schedule, to whether it's winter or summer. They seem to have all the time in the world.

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