There are cultures you visit and cultures you listen to. Basque culture belongs to the latter: it is expressed in a language unlike any other, sung in improvised verse, and celebrates its festivals by burning its own symbol to applause. Anyone arriving in Bilbao for the first time soon realises that they haven’t changed cities: they’ve changed codes.

This guide is our way of sharing that code. Not to explain everything – which would be impossible – but to ensure that travellers arrive equipped with the keys that open the doors.

Basque: the language with no relatives

It all starts with the language. Basque is the oldest living language in Europe and a mystery to linguists: it has no known relationship with any other language in the world. It was here before Latin, and it is still here.

In Bilbao, it coexists seamlessly with Castilian Spanish – on signs, in the names of neighbourhoods, and in conversations that switch from one language to another mid-sentence. And there’s one gesture that the people of Bilbao appreciate more than any tip: making an effort. Three words are all it takes to get started: kaixo (hello), thank you very much (thanks) and agur (goodbye).

Aste Nagusia: nine days with our arms raised high

Every August, for nine days, Bilbao celebrates its Semana Grande, the Aste Nagusia. It all kicks off with the txupinazo, the rocket launched from the balcony of the Arriaga Theatre in front of a packed square, and from that moment on, the whole city switches to a different rhythm. The streets fill with traditional Basque dances and herri kirolak, the rural sports that grew out of work in the fields and at sea. The estuary hosts regattas featuring traineras, rowing boats that are the descendants of the old fishing boats. On the stages, the bertsolaris perform – poets who improvise and sing verses in Basque before an audience. And throughout the festival grounds, the ‘txosnas’ spring up – the marquees set up by the ‘comparsas’, the groups organising the festival – where people eat, drink and dance until the early hours. Every night, fireworks over the water bring the day to a close.

Presiding over the whole of Marijaia is a figure with her arms perpetually raised, who is joy personified. Her fate sums up the spirit of the festival better than any explanation: on the final night, Marijaia is burnt on a bonfire before thousands of people who bid her farewell with song, knowing she will return the following year. Few cities burn their symbol with such affection.

The pintxo and the txakoli: the ritual at the bar

If the Aste Nagusia is the festive exception, the pintxo is the daily ritual. In the Old Town, going for pintxos isn’t just about having a quick bite to eat standing up: it’s a way of socialising. Each bar offers its own miniature dishes, each group of friends follows its own route, and the key to it all is striking a balance between what you eat, what you drink and what you talk about. The natural accompaniment is txakoli, the region’s young, slightly sparkling white wine, poured from a height to awaken its flavours. Plaza Nueva and the streets of Ledesma and García de Salazar are home to the best bars. And here’s a local tip: you order your pintxo by pointing, eat it at your own pace, and make room at the bar for the next person to arrive.

Traditional sports, dances and bertsolaris: a culture that competes and sings

Herri kirolak, or Basque rural sports, have their roots in hard work. The aizkolari chops logs with an axe, just as they used to be chopped in the woods; the harrijasotzaile lifts stones weighing over 200 kilos, just as they used to be lifted in the quarry; and the traineras that compete on the estuary today used to row out to the fishing grounds. In these disciplines, the hard work that sustained a people for centuries has become a celebration of that very labour.

Dance and music share the same solemnity. The aurresku is the dance of honour with which those who deserve it are welcomed and honoured, a gesture of respect that still opens official ceremonies and family celebrations. It is accompanied by the sounds of the txistu, a flute played by a single musician whilst keeping time with the tamboril, the trikitixa, the diatonic accordion of the pilgrimages, and the txalaparta, a percussion instrument made of wooden boards whose origins are lost in time and whose sound still evokes memories of the farmsteads.

And of all the living traditions of the Basque Country, none is quite as unique as bertsolarismo: the art of improvising and singing verses in Basque, with precise metre and rhyme, on whatever topic is proposed at that very moment. It is oral literature in its purest form, passed down from generation to generation, and it possesses extraordinary vitality: the final of the national bertsolaris championship brings together more than ten thousand people in silence, listening to poetry that is born and disappears in the very same instant.

Tradition and innovation: the Bilbao balance

All this heritage coexists with a city that has reinvented itself. In the Zazpi Kaleak, the Seven Streets of the Old Town, you’ll find century-old bars, the Ribera Market and Santiago Cathedral; a twenty-minute walk away, the Guggenheim continues to generate that “Bilbao effect” which is studied at universities across the globe. They are not two cities: they are one and the same, a city that has learnt to change whilst remaining true to itself.

Experiencing it from the inside: Calle Ribera

To understand a culture, it’s not enough simply to visit it: you have to feel it from within. Tayko Bilbao lies at the heart of the Casco Viejo, overlooking the estuary, with the market just a stone’s throw away, pintxo bars right on the doorstep and the estuary as its backdrop. During the Aste Nagusia, the dantzaris and the fireworks pass just metres from the doorway; the rest of the year, the privilege is a quieter one: Bilbao’s oldest neighbourhood as the backdrop to every morning.

You get a better feel for Bilbao from the inside. We’re just opening the door.

Tayko Bilbao. The start of your story in the city.