Trajan's Arch is a puzzle with a lovely name. It stands at one end of a modern street in Mérida, a single granite span about fifteen metres high, and despite the label there is no proof that Trajan, the emperor born in nearby Italica, had anything to do with it. Archaeologists think it was a ceremonial gate marking the entry to the religious precinct of the town, maybe dedicated to the imperial cult, and that it was once clad in marble that has long since been stripped for building. What remains is bare, solid and grand, standing out against a bright blue sky as though somebody had left a door ajar in time.
The arch is close to the Temple of Diana and the Roman forum, so it can be treated as part of a short walking circuit through the old centre. Medieval and later builders crammed houses against it, and the arch survived because ordinary people kept using it as a landmark. In the past century it was freed from the clutter and given room to breathe, so now you can stand at the foot of it and look up through the opening. The granite takes on a pink flush in the evening, and the crowds thin out as the heat drops.
On a motorcycle, Mérida is a town of low, spreading streets and a lot of one-way lanes. Park in an underground garage or on the edge of the centre and walk the last few hundred metres. There is fuel on every road into town, with a population of some fifty-six thousand, and plenty of bars and restaurants for food and coffee. The riding from here goes east through the plain toward the hills of Guadalupe, flat at first and then curving upward through cork oak, chestnut and scrub. Early starts matter, because afternoon heat in Extremadura can be brutal and tarmac gets soft.
If the day goes well, you will have time to wander from the arch to the theatre and back via the Guadiana bridge, one of the longest Roman bridges still standing. A long walk after a day on the bike is no bad thing, and the old city rewards it.