Just south of Salamanca is a tiny village called Los Arapiles. The name should resonate rather more than it does. For it was here – at the battle of ‘Salamanca’ in 1812 that Wellington threw his English, Irish, Portuguese and Spanish troops at a French army that had fatally opened a gap in its line - in the mistaken belief that the British were in retreat.

This picture is taken from the exact spot on which Wellington was standing when he was advised of the French error and instantaneously realised – it’s claimed – that the day would be his. The British forces were amassed on and around the hill of the left (Arapil Chico) and the French troops on and around the hill on the right (Arapil Grande). I don’t know but I’d guess this site is one of the few in the world which looks almost exactly as it did when the battle took place. Quite eerie really. Especially as you can walk every square metre of it, if you want. And even hunt for button and buckles and musket balls. Though not electronically.


The Borrow Society visited the battlefield this morning and was given a superb account of the battle by a young Spaniard who's made it his life’s work to have something done in respect of the battlefield. He’s finally had a good exposition centre built in the village but still struggles to get the tourism authorities in nearby Salamanca to include it in their brochures. And the local villagers are said to be more bemused than impressed by interest in their fields.

This is a photo of the medallion of Wellington erected in their Plaza Mayor by the grateful citizens of Salamanca. Surprisingly, there’s also one of Franco not far away.


And here are the library and study of Miguel Unamuno. I should perhaps have made it clear yesterday that the Spanish Grammar on his shelves is in English, not Spanish.


And, finally, here’s the first church in Salamanca encountered by George Borrow as he entered the city through the gate at the end of the road from Madrid.


The interesting thing about this church is that it’s one of several in Spain built and consecrated to St Thomas a Becket within a few years of his murder in Canterbury cathedral in 1170. Despite being a Protestant, Borrow might well have appreciated this.