Rock Magazine

Spain’s unheralded bouldering Mecca.

Words and uncredited photos by Simon Weill

As we crest the final hill in our severely undersized and underpowered rental car, I catch sight of the first of the boulders. Steep, orange sandstone – one of nature’s great delights. A sight like this could only be in the Grampians or maybe the Rocklands right? Nope. Try Spain. Albarracin, to be precise.

This 1000-year-old town, approximately four hours from Madrid, offers some of the best bouldering of its kind in Europe. Steep, often stand-alone boulders litter the ground throughout a beautiful, almost enchanted pine forest.

Pulling up at the car park we fortuitously meet a couple of guys from Belgium who are loitering around doing strange stretches and playing hacky. They’re probably climbers we decide – correctly as it turns out. As they show us around one area, the natural majesty of the place is magnified by a foot of fresh snow on the ground. Amazingly, many of the boulders are still in condition, perfectly dry under a light powder dressing. I hope it stays cold.

I get my wish, but along with it, lots and lots of snow and, after a few days, rain. My partners are more pumpers than crushers and don’t share my unabashed enthusiasm for cold-weather climbing. As they’ve just spent the best part of six weeks climbing on the outrageous seaside limestone of Kalymnos that’s no surprise, but the cold conditions are exactly what I have come for. Before I left Australia, one of my friends from Madrid had worded me up on the area, comparing it to photos I had shown him of the Grampians. He said I would be mad for it and he was right. I am frothing.

Unfortunately, the weather gets the better of us and so, after a week of a bit of bouldering, lots of cards and the occasional squabble, we make our way south for six weeks of uninspiring pumping in El Chorro.

I think about Albarracin constantly, occasionally (…alright, daily) mentioning it to my climbing partners. And usually while expressing my desire to be anywhere else except for El Chorro. I now know Albarracin well and am hoping that February’s weather will be kinder than December’s. I have a few projects that I am close to and keen to bag.

So finally myself and my recently arrived and re-equipped compatriot, the Nighthawk, speed away from El Chorro in a covert night time mission, code named ‘Operation Great Escape’, a daring operation of which the exact details are still classified. After a non-stop overnight driving rampage, we arrive at our destination bleary-eyed and keen to sort out some accommodation before going about our bouldering business.

We wander around checking out a few places before lucking in at Casa de Oro. It is conveniently situated opposite the local bakery, which produces an amazing Spanish take on the pain au chocolate. It is also right next door to the best café in the lower part of the town. We get our own room with en suite and breakfast included, all for the bargain basement price of €14 each. The accommodation is amazing and enhanced immeasurably by the lady of the house being convinced that we are a gay couple, providing much mirth later, when every evening we return to find our two single beds pushed together.

We are in luck. The weather is sublime: cold, crisp and sunny and we climb to our little heart’s content. Pretty much all the climbing conforms to my ideal when it comes to bouldering. It’s steep and, well, that is actually about it. I love the steep stuff. There are hundreds of boulders scattered throughout the forest, most of which are between 10° and 30° overhanging. The lines are proud and the landings forgiving. The Nighthawk struggles with his skin and elbows, so mostly I get to climb with a full time spotter.

I go to every area in the forest and throw myself at the plum lines. If you aren’t used to steep thuggy climbing there are more vertical blocs, but that is not what I was after. There is a vast array of three star problems in the V5 – V12 range, that keep me busy. Sector Techo (roof in Spanish) is my favourite, as it suits my style and is also located next to Peninsula, another of the cool and larger areas.

Albarracin is consistently voted one of the most picturesque towns in Spain. It is easy to see why. The old medieval town is made up of a series of tiny cobbled lanes, filled with shops and private residences and surrounded by a 1000-year-old wall built to keep out the marauding Moors. It’s a wondrous sight by day and even more impressive at night. On a busy weekend in the warmer months, the confines of the old town become a heaving throng of bustling tourists, desperate to get as many pictures of their weekend getaway as possible. However, in the middle of winter, we almost have the place to ourselves.

Well, we do until we run into a couple of mates over from Bristol, who inform us that about 30 of their compatriots are joining them for a weekend of birthday frivolity and bouldering. Perfect. I know most of these guys from my Sheffield days and in my mind I am already lining up pads for some of the highballs that I want to tick off, most of which would be impossible with just the two pads the Nighthawk and I have. Thus we spend two entertaining days wandering around the forest doing some of the big lines above huge packs of spotters yelling encouragement, much to the chagrin of the visiting Spaniards, who are busy trying to shit in every square foot of the forest. When not feverishly accomplishing these environmental pursuits, they spend the rest of the time drawing huge tick marks on all of their ‘futuristic’ projects.

Albarracin has been a popular tourist destination for decades. The forest is most famous for its pinturas rupestres – rock art, much like the art we find in the Grampians painted by Indigenous people. Thousands of tourists visit them every year and many would like to see climbing on these boulders banned altogether, a view that is likely to be enforced by the authorities if climbers don’t start to take care of the natural environment. As previously mentioned, Spanish climbers tend to relieve themselves wherever they see fit, often using excessive amounts of toilet paper. Their use of chalk is enthusiastic to say the least and their tick marks shameful.

Our time in Albarracin speeds by. Some more friends join us from Madrid for a couple of days and we meet some great people from all around Europe. The remainder of our time in the area is enjoyably formulaic: we rise late in the morning, dine wonderfully downstairs, before joining the queue at the bakery, where lining up is a great community experience. There can be up to 20 people waiting at any one time to get in the door. As with most things in Spain, there is very little order and even less queuing. Albarracin has a mature population to say the least, so most of those standing around are fairly advanced in age and like nothing more than to gossip, which can be very entertaining, particularly when your sexuality is the main topic of conversation. Even more amusing is the fact that no one realised that I could understand what they were saying.

We then walk back across the road to the local café and take coffee. One morning we end up chatting to some immigrant workers from Valencia, who are working on restoring many of the buildings within the old town. While these gentlemen seem like lovely chaps, their morning tea of three beers, three coffees, countless cigarettes and a bottle of wine does little to inspire confidence in our minds. Needless to say, we take a few detours to avoid walking directly beneath any of these Valencian death traps for the duration of our stay.

After coffee, we return to our lodgings, pack our kit and head out to the forest. At the end of each magnificent day of bouldering we cook our early dinner in the car park on our stove. This has to happen before the sun sets and the temperature plummets, which occurs around 4 pm. Heading back to our room – to find our beds pushed together – we have showers and take a late siesta until around 9 pm, before heading out for the best part of the evening, drinking and eating tapas until the early hours at La Despensa with the mayor of Albarracin.

All in all, each day presented pretty much everything I love about climbing, pristine forest, steep boulders, good friends, plenty of coffee and even a little booze thrown into the mix. I can’t wait to go back this year.

ALBARRACIN: THE DOWN LOW

Climbing
There are eight main sectors within the forest. The best are Techos, Arastradero, Peninsula, Madriles and Tierra Media. Madriles is subject to closures due to bird nesting from November to July. Peninsula is closed from mid January until mid August. Techos and Peninsula are my favourite areas, due to the steep, powerful and high problems that they contain. They are also a little further from the car park, so are quieter on the weekends when hundreds of people converge on the forest. However, the main areas are not the only places to climb. Walking around the forest is a great way to discover some gems that are not part of the main circuit. Parking, El Sol and Cabrerizo are the other sectors. They still have some good problems, but are not as dense with boulders.

When to visit

The best times to visit are October to March. You can climb there at other times, but accommodation is much harder to find and more expensive. You can fly direct to Madrid, where you can hire cars from all the usual companies. You can get there by bus, but I would recommend that you have a car, as it is a long walk to the forest and the nearest reasonable sized town is about 45 minutes away. You’ll need to go there to shop if you are planning on staying for any length of time. There is free internet available at the local library, which is located in the old town, but is only open for short periods each day.

Guides

One of the other great things about Albarracin is that there is no real guide for the area, apart from a very early piece that was published within a pamphlet advertising climbing holds. This is ancient, has very few problems in it and includes almost none of the hard lines. It is refreshing to be forced to consult locals on areas (or zonas), or to simply explore. As I have said, the ongoing access may be an issue, so be respectful and make sure you are aware of closures or restrictions.