"SPAIN is different." Few advertising slogans have been more successful than this phrase, first used in the 1960s in a holidays promotion.
Successful, that is, in terms of attracting punters and foreign currency. Ironically, that very success has ensured that, in the minds of many foreigners, Spain is always the same: sun, sea, sand, sangria and, if you're lucky, sex.
But Spain is one of the most diverse countries in Europe. Over the centuries, Irish links with Iberia have been rich and varied ranging from smuggling to politics and, in particular, religion.
From the 1590s to the 1950s thousands of Irish clerical students came to the peninsula to study for the priesthood in the Irish colleges attached to Spanish universities in seven cities.
The initial stimulus for this migration was the English suppression of Catholic education in Ireland. Spanish monarchs were particularly generous in subsidising Irish clerical studies, partly out of religious solidarity, though the potential for undermining English power must also have been a motive.
Salamanca is a long way from Spiddal or south Armagh. But it managed to look a little Irish last weekend as 48 hours of cold, unrelenting rain lashed its ancient towers and cloisters. The Irish College stands across a small valley from the city's enormous cathedrals and the main university quarter.
A walk through the valley is a sudden descent into the underworld. Just yards from the architectural splendour, dozens of drug dealers and prostitutes do business openly in a warren of rotten streets.
The remaining buildings are about to be bulldozed; no one can say what will happen to the people to whom they are a sort of home.
A couple of hundred yards back uphill, the Irish College has been exquisitely restored, its quiet cloisters and spacious dining room a haven of calm for the academics who now lodge there.
Apart from a plaque in honour of the restoration from President Robinson, who visited in 1993, and another from John O'Keeffe, of Cahir, Co Tipperary, commemorating the college's 400th anniversary the previous year, I could find no reference to its Irish connections.
There is a marvellous collection of 19th century clocks, but no mementos from four centuries of Irish visitors.
Curiously, the college's imposing chapel is currently home to a chillingly explicit Amnesty International exhibition of "European instruments of torture and capital punishment". The ghastly ingenuity of the contraptions is in shocking contrast with the graceful craftsmanship of the chapel's magnificent ceiling.
Bad taste, perhaps, or an implicit reminder that at least some of those who preached in this church must have collaborated with the Inquisition.
There is a plan to convert the Irish College in Salamanca into a parador (an upmarket hotel in a historic building), and its Irish context may soon become almost invisible. The archives have been transferred to Maynooth. Few Irish students now come to Salamanca.
IF WE are losing touch with one aspect of our Spanish past, however, another college offers the opportunity to renew it, though the window may not remain open for long.
Alcala de Henares, just 50km from Madrid, is one of Spain's great universities. Despite a discipline code approved by Father Luke Wadding its Irish college, which may have opened as early as 1630, had a turbulent history.
Regional and academic rivalries caused several scandals. In 1785 it was amalgamated with Salamanca.
The university was transferred to Madrid in 1836, and its extensive architectural heritage began to decay. In one of the small miracles of the post Franco years, it was reopened in 1977 and has again become a prime seat of learning under the dynamic rectorship of Mr Manuel Gala Munoz. Mr Munoz has also put great energy into tastefully refurbishing the old colleges, creating an enviable environment for study.
Among the ruins was the facade of the Irish College of St Patrick. Mr Munoz unsuccessfully approached the Irish Government for financial support for its restoration in the 1980s, but Fianna Fail's Eoin Ryan put him in touch with the Smurfit group, which has large investments in Spain.
An Irish College Foundation was set up under the presidency of Mr Alberto Olesti, then chairman of Smurfit Espana. A sometimes hair raising fund raising saga ended happily at a recent dinner hosted by the Irish Ambassador, Mr Richard Ryan.
Mr Dermot Smurfit, chairman of Smurfit Continental Europe, formally handed back the beautifully refurbished building to the university. Mr Smurfit admitted to being benevolently bemused by the extent of his own company's patronage, more than £1 million.
The only tangible benefit to the company for its generosity is the name on the library - the Michael Smurfit Salon. This houses a literature collection donated by the British Council.
There is also office space, and there are several excellent lecture halls. But unless some contribution is forthcoming from the public purse at home, there is a danger that the only benefit to Ireland will be the name on the college itself.
The foundation is running business courses there in the hope of raising self sustaining funds for Irish related activities. But Mr Munoz is adamant that there must be some official recognition from Dublin if the university is to foster the Irish link.
Given the great interest in all things Irish in Spain, the potential for courses in Irish history and culture is clear. Richard Ryan is a patron of the foundation.
"I and my predecessors have supported the college," he says. "The Embassy will endeavour to enhance the Irishness of the project."
Mr Munoz says simply: "It will be Ireland's loss if Ireland does not contribute. I can always turn it into a centre for Latin American studies."