The first time I went to Córdoba, one of my favourite Spanish cities, I found a hotel. I settled in and went out for a walk, carefully noting how to get back.

When I arrived back fairly late and having consumed some wine, I found the place locked. I hammered on the door. A head appeared at a window – female-furious. I argued – in English; my Spanish was non-existent. She replied in Spanish – and even I thought I had a fairly good idea of what ‘policia’ might mean.

I retreated a short distance to think out a srategy – and saw my hotel in the next parallel street!