Nicolae Titulescu Square 8
The water tower in Iosefin is an industrial monument in Timisoara. It was part of the water supply system of Timisoara from the beginning of the 20th century. In 2008, Timisoara City Hall announced that it intends to set up in the tower a small cultural cafe, a coffee museum, dedicated to Timisoare resident Francesco Illy, who invented an espresso coffee machine.
It was part of the water supply system of Timisoara from the beginning of the 20th century.
It was built between 1913-1914, being paired with the one in the Fabric district (completed in 1912). The towers, with a height of 52 m, were built at the ends of the water distribution network and served to compensate the maximum consumption during the day and to maintain a constant pressure. They were designed by engineers János Lenarduzzi (1865-1916) and Richárd Sabathiel (January 28 1875 Budapest - June 141942 Budapest). Inside their premises were employees' homes and a telephone line through which they communicated with the Water Plant.
It is equipped at the upper level with a drinking water tank of 500 cubic meters and an industrial water tank (taken directly from Bega) of 250 cubic meters, located at a lower level (absent from the water tower in the Fabric).
Until 2012 it was in the property of Aquatim (the company that manages the water supply and sewerage of Timişoara), after which it was taken over by the town hall.
It is located near the Bega canala place suitable for its original destination, but far from the city center, with no other tourist attractions. It could be the end point of a tourist circuit through the Iosefin neighborhood. There is a desire to rehabilitate it and grant a new destination.
In 2008 the City Hall of Timisoara announced its intention to set up in the tower a small cultural cafe, a coffee museum, dedicated to Timisoara Francesco Illy (october 7 1892, Timisoara - 1956, Trieste) - the inventor of an espresso coffee machine. espresso coffee.
The tower can be visited within the The City and Water Tour. The Bega canal shores, organized by the crew from the Architectural Tour.
The Water Tower
Liana Maria Gombosoiu, Valeria Dr. Pintea. A family novel. Marineasa Publishing House, Timişoara, 2013, p. 150-151
The most horrible thing happened to me one Sunday morning, as I was lying on a pontoon on the shore of the Bega river, while grandmother sheltered in the shadow with a group of friends. I was dreaming of Aida and Radames who had sung the end of their love the night before. I tried to imagine a similar type of love for myself as well in the future, one that should imply sacrifice. Tiredness, summer heat, the hope of a devastating love, all have wilted me. Instigated by Lia, always prone to doubtful jokes, my uncle Valeriu pushed me into the water. And while in my ears, like in a dream, the final of Aida was sounding and my heart broke at the thought of a love for which I would be compelled to die, I fell in the cold water of the Bega, I felt I went down and reached the river bed, eyes-opened, mouth full of water, incapable of any movement. Just then, a powerful hand grabbed me and somebody pulled me out and I came to myself, floating on the surface and looking at the white summer clouds above the Bega.
The savior brought me to the shore, slightly downstream and laid me on the grass. Grandmother and her friends were running towards the place I dropped through. “Maestro”, I heard somebody say, “what a presence of mind”! “Maestro, how lucky we were you noticed the child fell into the water”! Blue with cold and fear, with the water running along my thin tails, definitely pathetic in the bathing suit knitted by my mother out of some gray, rough whool and which, soaked with water, was hanging down to my knees, I managed to hear my grandmother saying, full of excitement: “Thank the Maestro, dear! You do recognize him, don’t you? It’s Radames from the other night!” Then, turning towards the tenor, she exposed the chronicle of the show, completed by the other ladies with superlatives.
My God, why have I not drowned? The Radames on the beach along the Bega was tanned, not too tall, rather fat and very hairy. He was wearing a small skull-cup and a bathing suit from white linen, according to the fashion of the time. He had saved me, but never looked at me or asked me one word after he put me down on the grass…. And I stood there without moving, without being noticed, with the painful thought that everything was vanity: opera shows, Bega beach full of old ladies chatting in the shadow, my beloved uncle, who had been about to kill me, instigated by the thoughtless Lia, both of them having run afterwards, the naked Radames who has saved me, my wish to die for love sometimes in the future.
Luckily the shiny summer days made me forget quickly my transient riot from the water shore. I forgave my uncle Valeriu and did no longer think of the Radames on the beach.