The Ruta de la Plata sounds like a silver road, and generations of travellers have assumed it carried silver from the Americas. In fact the name probably comes from the Arabic word balata, meaning a paved way, and the road itself is much older: a Roman route running north from Seville to Mérida and on to Astorga, which pilgrims and drovers kept using for two thousand years. Seville is where it begins, and the city makes a fine place to start any ride.
The city sits on the Guadalquivir, flat as a table in a plain that gets very hot in summer, with afternoons that regularly pass forty degrees. That decides your day. Ride in the morning, take long lunches and long shadows seriously, and expect the evening to be the point when Seville wakes up. In spring the whole town smells of orange blossom, and in April and May the processions, the Feria and the heat of the early-season sun make it a lively but crowded time.
For a few centuries Seville held the monopoly on trade with the Americas, which is why the Archivo de Indias, the Cathedral with its Giralda tower (a former minaret) and the riverside Torre del Oro are all here. The Alcázar is the finest surviving example of Mudéjar palace architecture and well worth a morning if you have the time. For food, stick to tapas in the old quarter, with fried fish, jamón and a cold glass of manzanilla or fino, and eat late like the locals.
Getting out is easy. The ring roads lead to the A-66, which follows the old route north through dehesa, the open oak pasture where black Iberian pigs eat acorns. Traffic in the centre is dense and the one-way streets are a knot, so fill the tank at the edge of town, where there is plenty of fuel, and use the bypass rather than cutting through the old city.