It took 19 years and four days for the high‑speed line to reach Murcia. The project began when Benigno Blanco, then Minister of State for Infrastructure, laid the first two sleepers on December 15, 2003. Shortly after, a general election shifted the political landscape, with the Aznar government eager to capitalize on a flagship investment that would dominate the national discourse.
In the Murcian district of Alquerías, a ceremony marked the commissioning of the new line. The event was attended by the then mayor of Murcia, Miguel Ángel Room, alongside government representatives such as José Joaquín Peñarrubia and Joaquín Bascuñana, who served as Minister of Public Works. As a symbolic gesture, a monolith bore the event date, December 15, 2003, though it was soon removed and possibly reused during the election campaign.
The plan had its roots in an agreement reached in January 2001 by the then president Ramón Luis Valcárcel. This accord, involving the Madrid–Castilla La Mancha–Valencian Community corridor and regional leaders along the route, opened Murcia’s place at the end of the line. The chosen route, however, bypassed the regional preference to connect with Madrid via Cieza.
Former Secretary of State Benigno Blanco was responsible for the commemorative monolith
After the natural link from Cartagena to Chinchilla was set aside, the wider AVE program to Valencia and Alicante moved forward with the approval of the Generalitat’s leadership, supported by counterparts in Castilla-La Mancha. The project’s momentum mixed with shifting political winds and evolving regional alliances.
From the outset, the intention was for AVE trains to travel from Murcia to Madrid via Alicante, a goal repeatedly asserted by the Ministry of Public Works and Renfe. State budgets from the early 1990s included initial allocations for a Camarillas variant, though execution lagged. Josep Borrell, who served as Minister of Public Works, oversaw the earliest attempts to move the railway away from the marshlands and toward a more efficient alignment.
The last socialist administration in the region reached accords with Renfe and extended financial support to cover Talgo’s deficit. Trains already in service began to experience higher demand, and public spending within the zone contracted as frequencies increased. When Mariano Rajoy mounted a bid to succeed Aznar in 2004, he pledged that AVE would reach Murcia via Cieza and Albacete, though the outcome of that election altered those forecasts.
The Zapatero government later pursued the Camarillas variant as the first phase of upgrading the Chinchilla line. At the same time, debate raged over lines planned to connect Beniel with Murcia. Expropriations faced stiff resistance from residents, complicating progress, yet by 2011 both segments were prepared for track laying as political rotations shifted again.
The Callosa de Segura section proved particularly contentious, necessitating a tunnel to avoid new road alignments through Vega Baja. AVE finally entered Valencia in December 2010 and opened in Alicante in June 2013. Meanwhile, neither Murcia City Hall nor the regional government diverted sewer or irrigation routes; Adif proposed an above‑ground route with a later underground plan, a shift that occurred after a no‑confidence vote toppled Rajoy and altered ministry priorities. Work resumed on tunneling and the new station.
A breakthrough: the underground platform concept
The plan envisioned Valle de Murcia’s railway crossing being replaced by an underground route, effectively removing the barrier posed by the rail line in the southern neighborhoods. The tunnel project would also convert the old 19th‑century layout into a pedestrian corridor extending from Nonduermas to Senda de los Garres, close to the coast at South Beach. Local residents formed a quiet collective that pressed for change, staging weekly gatherings and public demonstrations when needed, carrying banners and voicing their hopes for a city transformed by the new alignment.
As the AVE rails began to take shape, opposition to surface routes hardened. A wall was erected to shield nearby homes from the rail line, but the community’s resolve endured. The Tuesday meetings evolved into a broader social movement that captured the city’s imagination, echoing a sense of unity in the face of logistical and political challenges. The protest songs and chants became a symbol of resilience, drawing attention from other cities facing similar rail modernizations.
Over time, the movement helped sustain momentum, even as police deployments tested patience. Its peaceful core prevailed, and the campaign became a touchstone for residents outside Murcia who sought faster, more reliable connections. The city’s aspiration for modern rail travel endured, and the project’s progress helped redefine Murcia’s urban landscape and its relationship with surrounding communities.
Today, the completed sections mark more than engineering success; they reflect a long, contested journey through planning, politics, and people. The underground platform, the tunnels, and the new stations symbolize a city reshaped by public will, infrastructural ambition, and a shared belief that quick, efficient rail can bind a region together.