3. Pico del Veleta
Deep in southern Spain is a road of two halves, and the very highest piece of paving in Europe
PEAK 3: SPAIN
It’d be easy to assume us Brits aren’t big fans of Europe if you don’t dig much beyond headlines (or four per cent vote swings), but every yard and minute of this journey has been a glorious reminder of what a wonderful continent it is.
Well, until we reach the most seethingly angry Spanish man I’ll likely ever encounter as we home in on our third and final peak. We’re already nearly 3,000m above the sea, having sailed up most of our highest climb with the kind of carefree swagger that’s only ever followed by comeuppance. Upon establishing our high-vis, hard-hatted enemigo speaks even less English than we do Spanish, I reach for a translation app and politely ask, if he wouldn’t mind, explaining why we shall not pass.
“CORTADO, CORTADO, CORTADO!” Is the, um, forthright response that’s bellowed into my phone’s mouthpiece. The app takes a second to translate, as taken aback as we are. “Chopped up” is the English that eventually appears. I’m genuinely unsure whether he means the tarmac that lies beyond the barrier or our
bodies if we keep pestering him, so with heavy hearts we turn around. You already need a permit to reach this far, but even that counts for nought if the road’s randomly being rebuilt.
The lesson, then, is to aim for the car park 800m shy of Veleta’s peak, having packed a bicycle or some walking shoes with which to complete the rest. Your best miles are already behind you, the wheel-popping hairpins and scenic, snaking sections of Hoya de la Mora on the way up having been replaced by a slower, less frantic run to the glorious views from the mountain top.
An emerging theme, you’ll note. Our Three Peaks Challenge has been gruelling and rewarding, some troubling logistics yielding jaw-dropping vistas. The i30N’s novelty hasn’t worn off, however. Hyundai’s hot hatch is a superb partner, one possessing as much size and performance as you’d ever want on each of our peaks.
The best miles haven’t been on the roads with Insta-friendly plaques at the top, though, but on the tarmac that led to them, the stretches with no opening hours, no restrictions and no angry Spanish men. Europe’s brimming with glorious places to drive, and if you aim for any bunch of mountains you can’t go wrong. Even with a mischievous hot hatch acting as a devil on your shoulder.