Nuño Gómez

The moment the engine noise stops

The CM-4000 narrows to a single-track lane, the tarmac gives up, and suddenly the only sound is the wind moving through holm oaks. Nuño Gómez appears not as a postcard panorama but as a scatter of white cubes clinging to a ridge 469 m above the Tagus basin. Mobile signal dies, the car thermometer drops three degrees, and you realise the village is smaller than most British farmyards: 159 neighbours, one church tower, zero shops, zero bars, zero traffic lights. Welcome to the place where Castilian silence is sold by the hectare.

A geography lesson in altitude

At 469 m you are already 200 m higher than Toledo yet still 600 m below the ski stations of the Gredos. That middling height keeps Nuño Gómes breezy when Madrid melts at 40 °C; night temperatures in July can dip to 14 °C, so pack a jumper even in midsummer. Winter reverses the deal: the same ridge funnels the icy cierzo wind, and the occasional snow shower drifts across the CM-4000, closing the road for half a day. April and October are the sweet spots—wild marjoram scents the air, and you can walk at midday without sunscreen or crampons.

Where to lay your head (and find a coffee)

There is no hotel, but three stone cottages have been restored by the Hamlet’s Friends cooperative, a Madrid-British outfit that spotted the hamlet’s fibre-optic cable before the tourists did. Broadband clocks 300 Mbps, solar panels keep laptops alive, and the 12-m salt-water pool is heated to 26 °C from May to September. Mid-week “workation” rates start at €55 a night for a twin room, including bottomless filter coffee and a desk overlooking the Sierra de San Vicente. At weekends the same room leaps to €90, so plan spreadsheet sessions for Monday–Thursday. The alternative is a holiday let in one of the empty family houses; the parish council keeps a list on WhatsApp—message +34 627 418 972 and someone’s aunt will meet you with a key and a bottle of La Mancha tempranillo.

Walking without waymarks

Nuño Gómez does not do signposted trails. Instead, old caminos reales—cobbled mule tracks—fan out into dehesa woodland. A favourite 7 km loop heads south-east to the abandoned era (threshing floor) of Los Llanos: follow the concrete lane past the last cottage, take the second stone gate, and trust the twin ruts across the grass. Roe deer watch from the undergrowth; Iberian magpies clack overhead. The return climbs 150 m through holm-oak scrub to a limestone outcrop that delivers a straight-line view to the Alcántara bridge 40 km away. Allow two hours, carry water, and remember the Spanish step-over style at every barbed-wire fence: press the top wire down with a stick while bracing the middle strand with your boot. Trainers suffice in dry weather; after rain the clay sticks like Birmingham brick.

Food acquisition, not foodie culture

The village itself has no commerce, so shopping is a 15-minute drive to Oropesa where the Mercadona hides inside a medieval car park. Buy queso de cabra from the Saturday market stall run by the Martín brothers—mild, nutty, closer to Wensleydale than to French chèvre—plus a fist-sized loaf of pan de pueblo that keeps for four days. If you must eat out, the mesón in neighbouring El Casar de Escalona does a respectable cordero a la miel (lamb shoulder glazed with local honey) for €14, but they shut without warning when the family christens a baby. Back in Nuño Gómez, Hamlet’s Friends will fire up a paella pan for eight or more guests at €18 a head if you give 24 h notice—no shellfish, no snails, just chicken and garden beans, child-friendly and dairy-free.

Night skies and day trippers

Light pollution registers 0.4 mcd/m² on the astronomers’ scale—darker than most of Snowdonia. Between June and August the Milky Way spills overhead like split sugar; shooting stars arrive every ten minutes. Borrow the house 8-inch Dobsonian telescope (collimation already done) and you’ll split the rings of Saturn before midnight. By day, the same rental car can reach Puy-du-Fou Spain in 22 minutes. The French-owned history theme park is bizarrely popular with British families who base themselves in Nuño Gómez for the rural calm, then spend Saturday watching gladiators and falconry. Combination tickets bought online cost €32 adult/€24 child; the 22:30 night show finishes after the last taxi has gone, so nominate a sober driver.

When the fiesta reaches you

August 15 brings the fiesta patronal. The population quadruples as grandchildren return from Madrid. A sound system appears on a hay trailer, and the plaza rocks until 04:00 to a playlist that jumps from Rosalía to Queen. Visitors are expected—bring your own chair and a bottle of tinto de verano mixed 50/50 with cheap lemonade. Mid-January is quieter: on Saint Anthony’s Day the priest blesses tractors, hunting dogs and one pet tortoise in the doorway of the church. The village choir, average age 73, sings Mañanitas slightly off-key; applause is compulsory and sincere.

Leaving without a scratch

Fill the tank in Oropesa before you return the hire car—there are no 24 h garages on the CM-4000. The nearest AVE station is also at Oropesa; Madrid-Puerta de Atocha is 55 minutes on the high-speed train, but the daily 09:05 departure means a 07:30 start to drop the keys and reach the platform. If snow has dusted the pass overnight, the Guardia Civil close the road without warning and you’ll be routed via Talavera, adding 45 minutes and one frayed clutch. Build that buffer into your itinerary and the siesta can continue all the way home.