And so to Spain – arrival in Salamanca in September

My chosen city: Salamanca, Northwest of Madrid. This is where I hope to learn to speak enough Spanish to get by in the vineyards and to get to know the wines of the region. In typical fashion, I fell asleep as soon as I got into the taxi from Madrid (well, it was midnight) and only woke up as the car slowed down off the junction for Salamanca. As we approached, we crossed the Rio Tormes to see the city spread upwards in front of me, topped with a huge cathedral, the spires of which were silhouetted against the night sky. It was a pretty dramatic start despite the time of night.

The next morning and back to school. My first impression did not disappoint. The streets all twist upwards towards the cathedral and around the hill on which Salamanca is built. It is incredibly easy on the eye: churches, convents, ancient universities and other historical buildings vie with each other to fill the narrow, predictably cobbled, streets (and the tourists’ photos). Each of them is a made of a beautiful biscuit coloured sandstone, which seems almost designed to reflect the fantastic early morning and sunset sunshine.

Our school organised a tour of the town to orientate ourselves and point out the top sights of Salamanca. The first stop was the true centre of Salamanca, its Plaza Mayor – the sandstone continues here in a large continuous terraced square, ornately shuttered and balconied all around. The only breaks in the square are to make room for stately arches which allow access into and out of the square. The Plaza itself is laid over with slabs of cobbles and stone benches to help out with the, almost compulsory, people watching. Around the Plaza are its cafes and restaurants, which really buzz after the siesta when all the families and students come out to play.

The Plaza also plays host to a clock, famous for being the meeting point of the town, be it a date, a group of students or los abuelos out for an evening stroll with the dog. We also visited the cathedrals (there are actually two of them, next to each other, of different vintages), the Casa de las Conchas (the House of Shells, which has a story reminiscent of Romeo & Juliet without the tragedy) and the numerous convents, including Convento San Esteban (my favourite, for its wonderful terraced and tree lined square leading up to the incredible engraved facade of the convent itself).

As the sun goes down, the sky fills with the sounds of the birds coming home to roost, perching in all the ancient gaps in the city’s buildings, the signal that twilight is coming. Night time presents a different city in Salamanca and really shows its true origin as a university town: there is a huge number of students here, almost out numbering the permanent residents. As I walked into town, I was reminded that it is September: time for fresher’s initiation. There was group after group of guys and gals dressed in all manners, led by their elders and betters. One particularly grabbed my attention – 30 girls in their pyjamas chanting through the street. As they arrived in Plaza Mayor their “mistress” instructed them to get onto their backs like beetles. All 30 of them started to trill louder and louder, wriggling around on the ground. That certainly stopped the abuelos in their tracks.