There’s a certain kind of haze that settles over Spain at the end of June.

For parents, the final days of term arrive. There are no more hurried lunchbox preparations, no more searching for missing school shoes and no more frantic checks of the class WhatsApp group.

Of course, excitement for summer transcends countries. But in Spain, the arrival of the season feels different somehow – bigger, louder and more deeply woven into everyday life.

 There is a sense that something is beginning. Even for those still heading to work or juggling family life, there’s an undeniable feeling that an extraordinary season is just ahead.

Then, just as the classrooms empty, San Juan Festival arrives.

A magical start to summer in Spain

The moonlight dances on the water as we wade into the Mediterranean just before midnight.

Around us, children squeal as they splash through the warm sea. Behind us, hundreds of candles flicker along the shoreline like tiny fireflies. The scent of woodsmoke, grilled food and salt hangs in the heavy night air. Somewhere in the distance, a firework bursts overhead, briefly illuminating faces turned towards the sky.

Everyone pauses for a moment to make a wish. Summer doesn’t simply arrive in Spain. It is celebrated.

Across coastal towns, villages and cities, bonfires are lit. Fireworks crackle overhead. Families gather in squares and on beaches. Traditions that have been celebrated for centuries burst back to life.

As darkness falls, drums echo through streets. Children stay up far later than usual. Entire communities spill outdoors.

Why do these weeks feel so different?

July is glorious, when summer settles into its stride and every day seems to revolve around sunshine, sea and long evenings with friends. August, admittedly, is rather sweaty. Then September brings that wonderful sense of calm as the crowds begin to fade and locals reclaim their favourite beaches. And even December has its own unique charm, balancing Christmas markets and festive lights with bright blue skies and lunch in the sunshine.

Yet it’s these fleeting weeks in late June and early July that feel truly magical.

Perhaps it’s the dizzy drop into the season: The schools have broken up. The sea is finally warm enough for evening swims. Village festivals begin appearing on calendars. Long lunches stretch into sunset drinks and nobody seems in a hurry to be anywhere.

The slower pace. The outdoor lifestyle. The sense of community. The endless evenings that seem to go on forever.

Even if you’ve been on holiday to Spain before, when you actually move here, nothing can prepare you for how epic it is.

The sights, sounds and scents of a Spanish summer

Almost overnight, life changes rhythm.

The scent of pine trees warming beneath the sun mingles with jasmine climbing over garden walls. Cicadas begin their relentless chorus. Laundry dries within hours. The sea becomes part of everyday life.

There is a particular kind of light at this time of year. A hazy golden glow that settles across the coastline from late afternoon until sunset.

Beach days drift into evening drinks and long lunches stretch long past their intended finish. Someone always seems to be hosting a barbecue.

The village festivals that define summer

Then come the verbenas (summer festivals).

Strings of lights appear overhead. Plastic tables fill the square. Local bands take to outdoor stages. Children run around clutching glow sticks and melting ice creams. There are outdoor concerts, fireworks, foam parties and celebrations that continue long after midnight.

Babies sleep peacefully in pushchairs. Teenagers gather in groups with friends. Grandparents sit chatting at tables in the square. Everyone seems to be part of it.

Children embrace being outdoors

Perhaps the biggest difference I notice at this time of year is how much life happens outside.

As the afternoon heat begins to fade, entire communities emerge for the evening paseo. Families stroll along promenades. Neighbours stop to chat. Restaurant terraces fill with conversation.

The day doesn’t end when the sun goes down. In many ways, it only begins. As a British parent, that still feels special.

My six-year-old and three-year-old ask to swim in the community pool with the other children at 9pm and of course, I say yes.

“Aren’t they tired? That’s so late!” a friend residing in England quite fairly asks… but it’s hard to explain how normal it is.

Even at 10pm, I can still hear the thud of a football as a group of children squeeze in one final game beneath the streetlights.

Children playing. Parents talking. Neighbours lingering outside for one more conversation before bed. There is an easy freedom to it all that feels increasingly rare.

Why British families fall under Spain’s spell

Perhaps that’s why so many British families fall under Spain’s spell, especially at this time of year.

The strict bedtimes soften. Dinner moves later. The children make friends around the pool. Before long, you’re yielding to the rhythm of it all: To the long evenings. To the village festivals. To the warm Mediterranean haze that seems to settle over everything at this time of year.

To a way of life that places people, community and time together at its heart.

It’s not that life, or summer, is perfect here. It’s simply that the start of this season feels so celebrated and particularly momentous.

Moving to Spain as a British parent doesn’t mean you spend every day living on holiday. Real life still happens here. There are school runs, work deadlines, supermarket shops and washing piles. It’s just that, for a few extraordinary weeks every year, everyday life is trumped by the start of one of most magical summers in the world.

And every June, as the cicadas begin singing, festivals start appearing and the sea calls, I’m reminded why it’s so special. Because for a few precious weeks, life feels a little slower, a little lighter and a little more connected.

And if there is a more magical place to be at the start of summer, I haven’t found it yet.