La Peza

The Guardia Civil 4×4 coasts past Bar La Parada at 08:15, headlights still on despite April sunshine. Inside the bar, three farmers in boiler suits are finishing café con leche before the olive cooperative opens. This is the morning ritual that keeps La Peza ticking—1,128 souls perched 1,055 m up on the first limestone ridge of Granada’s northern edge. From the village fountain you can see the snowline of Sierra Nevada 25 km away, but you won’t hear the ski-buses. They use the motorway further west.

At this height the air thins enough to sharpen every scent: woodsmoke, damp stone, wild thyme crushed under wheel. Summer afternoons reach 34 °C yet nights drop to 16 °C; in January the thermometer can flirt with –5 °C and the occasional metre of snow blocks the A-4050 for half a day. That seesaw weather is what keeps the coach parties away and leaves the streets audible—footsteps echo between whitewashed houses, a single scooter reverberates like a trumpet.

A town built for looking outwards, not inwards

La Peza’s planners—medieval Moors, then Christian resettlers—were more interested in views than monuments. The sixteenth-century Iglesia de la Anunciación squats at the top of Calle Real, twin Mudejar towers added later to stop it sinking into the hill. Inside, the baroque retablo glitters with gilt but the real draw is the west door: stand on the top step and the valley of the Río Fardes rolls out like a green-brown carpet all the way to Guadix’s badlands. Photography tip: morning light throws the snow-capped Veleta peak into silhouette; at dusk the olive groves below turn metallic.

Behind the church a lane narrows into a drainage channel once used by muleteers. Ten minutes’ puff up this cobbled gutter brings you to El Castillejo, what’s left of a thirteenth-century watchtower. Expect knee-high walls, not battlements—yet the 360-degree payoff stretches from the clay-red troglodyte quarter of Purullena to the pine-dark ridge of the Sierra de Huétor. Trainers advised; the path is loose shale and there is no handrail, no refreshment kiosk, no phone signal.

Descend, lungs burning, to Plaza de la Constitución and the stone font that still supplies drinking water. Housewives fill 5 L jugs here rather than trust the tap; the fountain runs winter and summer because the source is 200 m higher up the slope. Sit on the rim, listen to swallows nesting under the eaves, and you will understand why La Peza’s inhabitants measure distance in vertical metres, not kilometres.

Trails that start at the bakery

There are no tourist-office maps. Instead, ask inside Panadería Francisco (opens 07:00, sells out by 11:00) for “la ruta de la mina”. The baker’s son, Pablo, will scrawl a line on the back of a floury receipt: follow the irrigation ditch east for 3 km, look for a rusted iron door in the rock—an abandoned sulphur mine—and you’ll reach a natural balcony where griffon vultures ride thermals. The walk is 90 minutes up, 45 down; carry 1 L of water per person because the return climb is relentless.

Mountain-bikers use the same dirt track to link with the GR-7 long-distance path, but gradients hit 12%. Unless your thighs are Tour-de-France grade, rent an e-bike in Granada before driving up. In May the verges explode with purple phlomis and the temperature hovers at a civilised 22 °C; by July the dust is ankle-deep and shade non-existent.

Winter brings its own sport: amateur meteorology. When the wind swings north-east, locals predict snow within 24 hours by watching the tv aerials on rooftops disappear into cloud. If the white stuff arrives, the village becomes a temporary film set—Spanish crews shot a Nespresso advert here in February 2022, parking an espresso machine on the fountain and paying residents €50 each to walk past in thick coats.

What to eat when there are no menus in English

Bar La Parada, facing the bus stop, is the only establishment open before 10:00. A toasted serrano-ham bocadillo plus coffee costs €4 and the owner, Mari-José, keeps a laminated translation card for Brits who panic at Spanish only. She will happily fill your reusable bottle with tap water, but ask for “agua del pilar” if you want the superior fountain variety.

Weekend visitors can pre-order choto al ajillo (kid goat slow-cooked in white wine and garlic) 24 hours ahead; €12 a portion, feeds two with bread. The flavour is closer to Welsh lamb than to curry goat—no chilli heat, just paprika and bay. Vegetarians get a look-in with gachas, a thick porridge of flour, olive oil and spinach that shepherds once ate at dawn; it tastes like savoury custard and will keep you walking for hours.

For edible souvenirs, buy raw orange-blossom honey sold in un-labelled 500 g jars at the bakery. The beekeeper brings them in on Fridays; by Saturday noon they’re gone. Price: €5, cash only—there is no ATM in La Peza. The nearest hole-in-the-wall is in Iznalloz, 18 km back towards Granada, so fill your wallet before you leave the city.

When to come, when to leave

April–May and mid-September–October give you daylight walking weather without furnace heat. Accommodation is limited: three rural houses (two listed on Airbnb, one by word-of-mouth) averaging €70 a night for a two-bedroom cortijo with roof terrace. Book ahead for Easter; the village procession draws returnees from Madrid and rooms vanish.

August fiestas (around the 15th) double the population for three days. Brass bands play until 03:00 and the plaza becomes an outdoor kitchen serving free paella. It’s fun if you like crowds; if you came for silence, drive on.

Winter is glorious but conditional. Snow chains are rarely needed on the main A-4050—the gritters run at first flake—but side roads turn to ice rinks. Bring layers, expect pipes to freeze in older houses, and relish the clearest starry sky in southern Spain. The council switched the streetlights to LEDs in 2021, yet light pollution is still so low that Andromeda shows up with the naked eye.

Leave after one full day unless you are hiking the entire GR-7. La Peza is a comma, not a chapter: a place to pause between Granada’s Alhambra and the cave houses of Guadix, to refill water, lungs and camera card. Drive out slowly; the speed bumps are vicious and the Guardia Civil have nothing better to do than clock tourists leaving before breakfast.