2: Driving Over Mountains

Pete Blanchard
Aug 23, 2017 · 4 min read

The flight from Stansted to Madrid Airport was uneventful. I prefer it that way as I always try to grab some sleep on flights. On go the noise-cancelling headphones, I play some calming music from the iPad and away I doze.

When we got to Madrid, things stayed uneventful, if about 15ºC hotter than Essex. Passport control and baggage reclaim were mere formalities so we found the Hertz desk and picked up the keys and directions to the hire car. It was an Audi A3 and according to the paperwork, it came with 6 minor dings and dents from previous drivers. Given the horror stories you hear about some car rental firms, I thought I’d I check before driving away; I didn’t want to be charged for damage that was done before I’d picked up the car.

We found the six dings and dents marked on the car hire agreement. We also found a 15cm-long dent on the rear nearside door. And the buckled and split spoiler on the front bumper. And found all four door handles were scuffed or chipped. In all, I counted 13 minor faults, not 6. Whoever had inspected this car when it was last handed back must have done it wearing sunglasses. At night. During a power cut.

So we reported the additional faults, had the hire agreement amended and set off for our first stop, Navacerrada. Except that I found the airport road layout so confusing, it took us three attempts to get out and onto the public roads. On the plus side, at least we now knew where all of the terminals in Madrid Airport were located.

We set off and headed north-west towards Colmenar Viejo. The roads went from motorway to dual carriageway to two-way main road as we headed towards the mountains of the Sierra de Guadarrama ahead of us. I had planned to stop for lunch in Tres Cantos or Colmenar Viejo but had been advised by one of my Spanish colleagues, we’d find no culinary delights there. Instead, Miguel had said we should carry onto Navacerrada, where we’d find an attractive town as well as some decent enough bars or restaurants.

The main square in Navacerrada

We drove through the centre of Navacerrada, parked up and walked back to the main square. There were a number of places to eat, so we sat outside on the shaded terrace and had a leisurely lunch. Peter wanted to try hot chorizo and, to my amazement, really liked it.

Afterwards, we drove back through the centre of town and back on the road. We headed up towards the nearby mountain pass, some 1858m (over one mile) above sea level. We stopped on the way up at a lay-by next to an old fountain. The views back down the valley were obscured by trees but the place was a haven for lizards and some rather exotic butterflies not found in the UK.

A Purple-Shot Copper (left) and a Scarce Copper (right). Spanish butterflies I saw; not cunningly-disguised police officers.

We reached the pass. In winter, the town of Puerto de Navacerrada is a ski resort. In summer, however, with the temperatures reaching 35–40ºC, there’s no snow. There’s also no other real reason to be up this high in the mountains at this time of year. That explains the near deserted town and the surreal ski lift going up the baking-hot, snow-free mountainside. We stopped briefly for the view back down the valley, before moving on.

Puerto de Navacerrada, looking back.

The drive down from the pass took us out of the comunidad de Madrid and into the province of Segovia. We got stuck in a small convoy behind a large lorry which understandably took its time negotiating the hairpin curves down through the mountainous pine forest. Eventually, the truck turned off and we were able to speed up and carry on at a more reasonable pace downhill. Before long, we made it to Real Sitio de San Ildefonso, another place I tell myself I’ll stop and visit properly one day. But in all probability won’t.

Not long after, we arrived in Segovia and made our way to the old city. The only problem was I couldn’t recall where the secluded hotel car park was. It had been 20 years since my last visit to Segovia and memories of what-goes-where in the city were now somewhat sketchy. This explains why we did 2 circuits of the old quarters and its horrendously narrow streets before leaving the car in a public underground car park.

We got the cases and rucksacks out of the car and traipsed uphill to the hotel. It was a degree or so cooler here than Madrid airport, but 31°C is still not the sort of heat you really want to be hauling luggage around in for too long. After a hundred meters or so, we reached the hotel, Los Linajes, and checked in. The first stage of our road trip was over.

To be continued.

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Pete Blanchard

Written by

Proud father, Finance Manager at Ford Motor Company, musician & hispanophile. Inexplicably blocked by Keith Chegwin on Twitter.

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