50 years ago in Bilbao

50 years ago, April to June 1971, I was in Bilbao in the Basque country of northern Spain. I was in the gap between sixth form and university, where I would be studying modern languages, especially Spanish. So it was a chance to have a go at some real Spanish.

I was 17 and set off with the optimisn of that age, catching the ferry from Southampton to Santurce, just outside Bilbao and finding accommodation (thanks to Lynda Barry, of Christ the King). Bilbao has been glammed up a bit since then, especially with the building of the Guggenheim Museum there (below). It was "total immersion" as I only spoke to 1 English-speaking person in three months, and that was the consul-general's secretary. I stayed with some engineering students in the apartment of a lovely, kind lady called Ines (Agnes).  At first I was the butt of all their jokes, and they were delighted to teach me how to swear in Spanish. We all ended up amigos. 

The political scene was different, worse than I and probably most people in the UK realised. Franco was still in power, and you felt it in all sorts of ways in daily life, not least the fact that the Basque language was banned. I remember Ines speaking it in whispers on the the phone, in case someone overheard.  On a few occasions it was quite scary, such as the military parade on the day the government celebrated "liberation day" which most of the people had seen as "invasion day".  The tanks rolled down the main street where there were only planted onlookers....

Although it was a bit scary to be thrown in the deep end on my own, I learned a few lessons, grew up a bit, and certainly got a grip on Spanish as it is spoken rather than taught. Cincuenta anos, fifty years...