La Cabrera

At 1,038 metres, La Cabrera sits high enough that Madrid's summer heat feels like someone else's problem. The village name translates roughly as "place of goats", a reminder that these granite hills once supported little beyond livestock and hardy locals. Today the goats have mostly retired, but the stone remains—piled into walls, carved into doorways, and scattered across slopes that drop sharply towards the A-1 motorway.

Most visitors race past on that same motorway, bound for Segovia or the better-known peaks of Guadarrama. Those who turn off at kilometre 57 find a settlement that feels older than its medieval charter: narrow lanes tilt at improbable angles, houses grow straight from bedrock, and the evening air carries the scent of resin and woodsmoke rather than diesel fumes.

What the altitude actually means

The height difference isn't academic. In August, when Madrid swelters at 36 °C, thermometers here often read eight degrees lower. Mornings can be crisp even in June; by October the first frost silver-plates car windscreens. Rain arrives suddenly, clouds spilling over the sierra from the north-west, and winter fog can close the access road for hours. If you're expecting Andalusian sunshine, pack a fleece.

The upside is walking weather. Spring and autumn deliver the classic high-sky days that central Spain photographs so well, but without the sweat-soaked shirts of the lowlands. Trails start literally at the back of houses—follow any cobbled alley uphill and within ten minutes you're among holm oaks and knee-high rosemary. The GR-88 long-distance footpath skirts the village, but shorter loops suit an afternoon. One popular circuit threads through the Canchos de Vicente, a jumble of wheat-coloured boulders that looks like a giant's game of marbles, before dropping back past allotment gardens where elderly residents still hoe between the beans.

Stone you can climb on

Granite here isn't merely scenic; it's structural. The 16th-century church, Iglesia de la Inmaculada Concepción, is built from the same grey-pink stuff that climbers claw their way up a kilometre away. The local rock is rough, crystalline and—crucially for British visitors—grippy even when damp. Sport routes start at a friendly grade 3; the sector called El Cancho Gordo has 40-metre pitches that finish on fins of rock wide enough for a picnic table. Bring a 60 m rope and a rack of quickdraws; guidebooks are sold at the librería in Colmenar Viejo, 20 minutes down the road.

If you prefer horizontal travel, the ridge walk to Peñas del Yelmo gives a panorama that stretches from the glass towers of Madrid (visible only on the clearest winter days) to the snow-dusted summits of Gredos, 150 km west. The path is marked by cairns rather than signposts; allow three hours return from the upper car park, or five if you start from the village square and fancy the full 600-metre ascent.

Lunch without the tour-bus surcharge

Food options are limited but honest. Cachivache opens at 11:00 for coffee and stays serving until the last raciones disappear—usually grilled chicken wings, crisp croquetas and a decent tortilla that arrives still bubbling. They'll pour you a caña of Mahou for €1.80 and won't flinch if you ask for tap water. Round the corner, Los Nuevos Hornos Ángel fires pizzas in a wood oven built into what was once a bakery storeroom; the dough proves overnight and tastes of wheat rather than sugar. Vegetarians do better here than at most mountain bars—try the roast aubergine with local honey and thyme.

Shops observe the old timetable: open 09:00-14:00, closed until 17:00, then shutters down again at 20:30. If you need walking snacks, buy before noon. The small supermarket stocks tinned tuna, tangerines and the local mantecadas—sponge cakes that survive happily in a rucksack for two days and taste like a cross between Madeira cake and brioche.

Getting there (and away)

Public transport exists but resembles a favour rather than a service. From Madrid's Plaza Castilla, bus 725 reaches Colmenar Viejo in 40 minutes; a taxi from there costs €25 and must be booked the previous day (tel. +34 918 44 22 11). At weekends the village bus runs twice—morning out, afternoon back—so check the timetable or plan to stay overnight. Drivers simply follow the A-1 north, exit at M-604, and climb 8 km of switchback. In winter carry snow chains; the final slope faces north and ices over first.

Accommodation is thin on the ground. Hotel Nebula has 14 modern rooms opposite the stone water trough that doubles as a village square; doubles €75-90 including breakfast of strong coffee and industrial pastries. Casa Rural El Roble, five minutes' walk out of town, sleeps six in thick-walled rooms that stay cool without air-conditioning. Firewood is provided—nights drop below 10 °C even in May.

The things that still go wrong

Mobile coverage vanishes the moment you leave the tarmac. Download offline maps before you set off, and tell someone where you're headed; rescues have involved Guardia Civil helicopters when walkers followed goat tracks instead of footpaths. Summer thunderstorms build over the sierra by 15:00; granite conducts electricity, so start early and be off the ridge by lunch. Lastly, don't expect a souvenir industry. Apart from a Saturday-morning craft stall selling honey and goat's-milk soap, there is nothing to buy that you couldn't find cheaper in Madrid— which, in a way, is the whole point.