Robledo de Chavela

The first clue that Robledo de Chavela isn’t just another commuter dormitory is the altitude read-out on the car: 900 m and still climbing after you’ve left the Meseta behind. Then the granite begins—first the kerbs, then entire houses—until even the village benches look hewn from the same grey stone that built the sixteenth-century tower of the Iglesia de la Asunción. Pull into the free car park above the church (follow the signs for Ermita, not Centro) and Madrid’s heat already feels a county away.

Granite, Oak and a Touch of Space-Age

The old centre is small enough to circumnavigate in twenty minutes, but the gradients make it feel longer. Alleyways dip and rise like a switchback, opening onto sudden views of oaks rolling westward to the provincial border. House façades carry stone coats-of-arms—some original, some slapped on during the 1990s restoration—that hint at a time when wool money, not air-conditioned offices in the capital, kept the place alive.

Walk south along Calle de la Constitución and the architecture changes abruptly: giant white satellite dishes rise behind a security fence. This is the Madrid Deep Space Communications Complex, NASA’s and Spain’s INTA joint tracking station. Signs forbid entry, yet the futuristic dishes photograph beautifully against the granite roofs, giving the village a low-key Bond-film backdrop that few British visitors expect an hour from Barajas airport.

Trails that Reward an Early Start

Robledo sits on the western lip of the Sierra de Guadarrama, where the routes are emptier and the inclines gentler than the better-known Cercedilla valley. The local Ruta de los Robledales leaves from the Ermita de San Roque, itself a ten-minute calf-warming climb from the square. The path skirts the cemetery, then drops into holm-oak pasture where the only sound is the wind ticking the stone pines. Expect 8 km and 250 m of cumulative ascent; allow three hours including the inevitable photo stop when the view stretches clear to the Gredos peaks after rain.

If that sounds too gentle, pick up the Cañada Real Leonesa, the medieval drove road that once funnelled Merino sheep to León. Either direction works: north-east towards chaparral and abandoned sheep dips, or west to the abandoned railway village of Santa María de la Alameda. The latter is a full-day, 20 km there-and-back, so carry more water than you think necessary—village fountains are turned off outside July and August, and café stops are non-existent once you leave the tarmac.

Summer walkers should start at sunrise; afternoon temperatures regularly top 36 °C and the undergrowth is tinder-dry. Winter, by contrast, brings sharp nights and the odd surprise snow shower. When that happens the M-501 is gritted quickly, but the side road up to the Ermita becomes a toboggan run. Chains or winter tyres are sensible between December and February.

Eating, or Why You Need Cash

Spanish school groups flood Bar Central on the Plaza Mayor for mid-morning chocolate con churros, but otherwise you’ll share the counter with locals reading Marca. Order pimientos de Padrón (mild green peppers, the occasional spicy one) and a caña of Mahou for under €4—cash only, the card machine broke in 2019 and the owner never replaced it. Similar caveat at Asador Roqueo round the corner, famed for cordero asado (milk-fed lamb) roasted in a wood-fired oven. A quarter-lamb serves two and costs €24 at weekends; reserve if you insist on Saturday night dining, but walk in on a Tuesday and you’ll probably have the dining room to yourself.

Vegetarians aren’t forgotten: judiones de La Granja—butter beans the size of ten-pence pieces stewed with onion and mild smoked paprika—appear on every weekday menú del día (€12–14, three courses, wine included). Just don’t expect an oat-milk latte; Robledo’s cafés still treat coffee as a caffeine delivery system, not lifestyle statement.

When to Come, and When to Stay Away

April–May turns the surrounding dehesa bright green and daytime temperatures hover around 18 °C—ideal for walking without the Guadarrama crowds. Accommodation is limited to three small guesthouses and a clutch of Airbnb flats carved from granite townhouses; expect €55–70 a night mid-week, €90+ when Madrid schools are on holiday. Book nothing for Sunday night unless you fancy a ghost-town vibe: most bars close early and the bakery doesn’t open until Tuesday.

October brings ochre oaks and mushroom forays led by the local mycological society. The village tourist office (open 10:00–14:00, closed Monday) sells €5 permits that allow you to collect up to 3 kg of níscalos (saffron milk-caps) in designated forest patches—bring a knife and a basket or the ranger will turn you back at the trailhead.

August fiestas are loud. Processions, brass bands and late-night verbenas run until 4 a.m.; ear-plugs essential if your room fronts the square. The upside is free street tapas and the chance to see chulapos dancing in wool trousers despite the 32 °C night-time temperature. If you prefer crickets to trumpets, avoid 12–15 August altogether.

Getting There, Getting Out

A hire car remains the least painful option. From Barajas, take the A-5 west, peel off onto the new M-501 (toll-free dual-carriageway) and follow signs for Robledo once you pass km-43. Journey time is 55 minutes on a quiet day, 75 minutes if you hit Madrid’s ring-road at rush hour. Sat-navs occasionally try to drag you along the old single-lane M-501—ignore the machine and stay on the new road until the clearly signed M-512 junction.

Public transport exists but only just. Bus 638 leaves Madrid’s Príncipe Pío station at 16:00 on weekdays, returning at 07:00 the next morning—perfect for insomniacs, hopeless for anyone else. A pre-booked taxi from El Escorial rail terminus costs €35–40 if you ring ahead; try Teletaxi San Lorenzo (+34 918 90 10 50) and confirm the fare before you board the train.

The Honest Verdict

Robledo de Chavela delivers exactly what it promises: clean mountain air, proper Spanish village life and hikes where you’ll meet more Iberian magpies than people. It does not deliver boutique shopping, nightlife beyond the occasional cover band, or menus translated into five languages. Come with serviceable Spanish, a pocketful of euros and realistic expectations—one full day covers the stone core and a decent walk, two days let you exhale properly. Stay any longer and you’ll either start recognising every dog by name, or plotting an escape route to the coast.