The office was always hectic, full of life and people moving from one place to another with papers, notebooks and juicy news of the latest scandal. The beautiful noise of typewriters never stopped, to the annoyance of the adjoining houses, the newspaper had to come out without delay. The smoke of cigarettes was often mixed with the smell of fresh ink, meat and tomato from the sandwiches of the shop downstairs, oregano from the pizzas from around the corner, and coffee, so much coffee we had more of it in our veins that actual blood.
But now there’s just silence, no typewriters, no more tasty smells to accompany the lonely nights, the smoke has vanished, the ink has dried. It all remains in silence.
In the depths of Madrid there’s a place where time stopped many years ago, where you feel like a ghost, a voyeur of the daily routine of Metro riders, where you sense the hustle and bustle of older times.
This place is Chamberí Station, an old Metro station that was on use just for a few decades, but enough to bring to Madrid the greatness of the new means of transport. Since 2007 it’s a (free) museum, a very particular one as the new one still runs through it, so you feel like a shadow of the past, watching the train coming and going with all its passengers on it.