Plasencia sits in a bend of the river Jerte, at the northern edge of Extremadura, where the dry plains give way to the first shoulders of the Sierra de Gredos. It is a stone town, honey-coloured and quietly confident, with a medieval wall, a double cathedral and an aqueduct that strides across the southern streets. The name is said to come from the founder's wish that the place be pleasing to God and to men, and the old kings of Castile did their best to make it so.
The cathedral is the curiosity. The Romanesque-Gothic old church and the grand Renaissance-style new one are stuck together like two chapters of the same book, never quite finished. Inside the old cloister the light is gentle and the noise of the town drops away. Around the Plaza Mayor, a Tuesday market in the old tradition is still a big deal; in August the Martes Mayor festival dresses the town in medieval costume.
The reason riders love the area is the road north. Up the Jerte valley the N-110 climbs gently through terraced cherry orchards, and if you hit the end of March or early April the slopes are white with blossom, a sight worth planning a trip around. Behind lies the Puerto de Tornavacas, a modest pass with a smooth surface and easy bends. In the opposite direction, the Monfragüe national park lies about forty minutes south, where griffon vultures ride the thermals over cork oak and granite crags.
Summers here are properly hot, so the best hours are early and late. Spring and autumn are glorious, with green hills, empty roads and the smell of wet rosemary after rain. Winter nights can be sharp but the days are mostly dry.
With forty thousand people, Plasencia has every fuel station and supermarket you could want, and the lanes around the old cathedral are packed with bars serving local cheese such as torta del Casar, jamón and pimentón-flavoured everything. It is an easy overnight base, and cheaper than the better-known towns on the road to Portugal.