La Nucia

The first clue is the athletics track glowing under floodlights at seven in the morning. While the Costa Blanca’s coastal strip is still yawning over coffee, La Nucia’s municipal stadium already hums with lycra-clad warm-ups in thirty languages. This is not a village that happens to have a sports pitch; it is a purpose-built training camp disguised as a Spanish mountain town, 226 m above the stag-do tide.

A Different Kind of Coast

Ten kilometres inland, the Mediterranean feels closer than it should. On clear winter afternoons you can stand on the Ruta de los Miradores and pick out the cable-stay tower of Benidorm’s Bali Hotel glinting like a pin on the horizon. The air up here is two degrees cooler, the humidity drops, and the traffic noise is swapped for almond trees rattling in the breeze. Coaches call it “altitude without the aggro”; athletes get the oxygen edge, then drive down for a sea-level swim before dinner.

The road up from the AP-7 is a swift 40 minutes from Alicante airport. Hire-car drivers emerge from the last tunnel to find the valley opening into a chessboard of citrus groves and red-tiled roofs. There is no beach, but the compensation is space: pavements you can walk on without dodging suitcases, and a Saturday market that still sells vegetables instead of sombreros.

What Passes for Sightseeing

La Nucia will never detain a cathedral chaser for long. The 18th-century parish church of La Inmaculada squats at the top of a modest flight of steps; its neoclassical façade is handsome, symmetrical and finished in the same honey-coloured stone as the town hall opposite. Inside, the treasure is less artistic than social: wooden pews polished by three centuries of farmers in Sunday suits, and a side chapel where the local cycling club leaves its trophy collection.

Behind the church, the restored Lavadero Municipal is a shallow stone trough under a pitched roof. Until the 1960s this was where women exchanged gossip while scrubbing shirts; today it hosts the occasional craft fair and serves as a reminder that the place was agricultural long before it became sporty. A five-minute wander finishes at the mirador, where the view stretches south across the Vilaitana golf estate to the steel-blue ribbon of the sea.

The Industry That Doesn’t Close for Winter

The Ciudad Deportiva Camilo Cano is the real heart of modern La Nucia. Spread over 130,000 m² are an eight-lane track, three football pitches, an indoor arena and a cluster of low white buildings that house physios, analysts and a surprisingly good canteen serving bocadillos the size of house bricks. Entry is free before 10 a.m.; after that you need a €5 day pass. National teams from Norway to Ukraine book month-long blocks, and if you jog a lap at dusk you are likely to be lapped by someone wearing an Olympic vest.

Cyclists head for the Font de Farava circuit, a 21 km loop that climbs gently through carob orchards then drops to the coast at Altea. Mountain-bikers prefer the Puig Campana fire roads: summer starts early here, so the smart money rides at dawn when the limestone still holds the night’s chill. Bike hire is available at BikeLand on Calle Dinamarca; €25 a day gets you a decent hard-tail and a route map that actually matches the trails.

Eating Between Sessions

Forget tasting menus. The local cuisine is built around rice, rabbit and whatever the valley produces that week. Restaurante El Cid does a weekday menú del día for €14 that starts with olleta alicantina—a thick bean and pork stew that could stun a ploughman—and finishes with arroz con costra, baked rice with a crust of egg. Vegetarians survive on espinacas con garbanzos, though they may be the only dish on the table without chorizo.

On Friday mornings the market spreads along Avenida de la Comunitat. Look for the stall with the hand-written sign “Miel de La Nucia”; the almond honey is sold in re-used Coca-Cola bottles and tastes like liquid marzipan. A few steps away, a couple from Leeds runs a rail of last-season Next coats and Debenhams dresses—labelled “Labels & Tables” and beloved by expats who need a British shopping fix without flying home.

When the Athletes Go to Bed

Evenings are quiet. The younger crowd hops on the L-003 bus (€1.55, last return 23:15) to Benidorm’s bars; those who stay behind gather at Café Sports for cañas and arguments about transfer fees. The municipal outdoor gym lights up at dusk, its orange glow attracting teenagers who treat the cross-trainer like a social network. On the first Saturday of October the plaza fills with beer benches for Spain’s oldest Oktoberfest—36 years and counting—when the scent of bratwurst drifts across the athletics track and nobody minds that the band plays “Sweet Caroline” twice.

Practical Notes, Plainly Put

A car makes life easier. Public transport exists: the ALSA coach from Alicante airport to Benidorm connects with the local bus, but the last uphill service is at 22:00 and Sunday market buses are jammed. Taxis from the coast after midnight cost €25–30, so factor that into the beer budget.

Accommodation is mostly modern apartments aimed at long-stay athletes. Expect €70 a night for a two-bedroom flat with pool access in April; August fiestas triple the price and book out early. Camping is possible at Camping Els Pinos in neighbouring Polop—shady, clean and half the price of coastal sites.

Walking seasons are spring and late autumn. Summer heat builds by 11 a.m.; in July you will be finished or foolish. Carry more water than feels reasonable—the dry air deceives. Winter mornings can dip to 4 °C, so pack layers; by lunchtime you will be in T-shirts again.

The Honest Verdict

La Nucia is not pretty in the picture-postcard sense, and it does not try to be. It is tidy, purposeful and slightly bemused by visitors who are not wearing trainers. If you want castles and cobblestone romance, drive on to Guadalest. If you want a morning run that smells of orange blossom, a €14 lunch that defeats dinner, and a town whose main industry is staying fit, park the car, lace up and join the lap count.