Mérida was founded in 25 BC as Emerita Augusta, a retirement town for veterans of the legions, and it became the capital of the Roman province of Lusitania. It is still, for my money, the best place in Spain to feel the Roman world, because the monuments are not locked away in a museum but scattered through a living town: a theatre, an amphitheatre, a circus, a long stone bridge across the Guadiana, a temple and the great aqueduct of Los Milagros. UNESCO listed the whole ensemble in 1993.
The aqueduct, the miracle aqueduct, carried water from the Proserpina reservoir, several kilometres to the north, into the city, and its remains are a row of tall granite and brick piers, built in alternating bands of stone and brick, that stride across a valley on the edge of town. The upper arches are broken and incomplete, but the structure is still imposing, and in spring white storks nest on the tops of the piers in great untidy stacks of sticks, clattering their bills. The name Los Milagros is probably a medieval one, expressing wonder that the thing was still standing.
Riding in Extremadura is a pleasure of space and light. The roads run across rolling plains of holm oak pasture, called dehesa, where black Iberian pigs roam under the trees, and the traffic is light. Curves are gentle, with some good ridge roads in the nearby hills, and the surface is mostly good. The summer heat is severe, so it is wise to ride early or late and carry plenty of water. The ride to the monastery at Guadalupe, a great fortified complex in the mountains to the east, is a classic.
Mérida, with about fifty-six thousand people, has fuel stations, supermarkets and many bars, and Calamonte, just across the river, has more. Local food is excellent, with Iberian ham, cheese from La Serena and rich stews. The best time to visit is spring or autumn, when the days are mild, and the light turns the stone gold in the evening. The air smells of dry grass and warm stone, and the clack of storks fills the quiet of the afternoon. Park near the aqueduct and walk around it; seeing it close up changes your sense of scale.