IF YOU'RE in the Comunidad Valenciana any time between now and the early hours of March 20, you may notice an awful lot of noise and colour on the streets. It's the season for the region's biggest festival,...
Mérida's Classical Theatre Festival, the ideal 'excuse' to see this spectacular Roman city
27/06/2021
IT'S NOT as though you'd ever need an excuse to head to Mérida, but as most of us find our travel wish lists grow at a much faster rate than we can either save up or find the time to check off entries, this western-Spanish city may well remain under the heading of 'oh-my-goodness-I-really-have-to-see-this' indefinitely, especially if it's an entry that you're keeping for dessert.
But now really is the right time, because its International Classical Theatre Festival has kicked off again for the first time since before the pandemic.
If you've already missed the tempting-sounding From Bach to Radiohead concert, which took spellbound viewers on a journey through as many different musical styles and geographical locations of these from the 17th to the 21st century as it could cram into one night – covering Rossini, Iron Maiden and Paco de Lucía – and if you don't think you're going to make it there in time for today's refugee documentary film Welcome to Spain, which was premièred at the Hot Docs International Festival in Toronto, Canada, then at least this is a taster of the imaginative variety of events you can catch in Mérida over the opening weekend from next year onwards.
Plenty of other events are on the cards for the next few weeks and, even though the plays performed are in Spanish, they are typically very well-known ones that you would be able to follow even if your language skills are not yet up to catching live, moving dialogue.
If you're keen to make sure this is, indeed, the case in time for next year's festival, a good way to practice is to find a film on DVD you know backwards and inside out, switch the language into Spanish and, if necessary, put the subtitles into Spanish, too, and make heavy use of the 'pause' and 'rewind' functions. Even just five or 10 minutes a day of this will help – in fact, it's better to stop when brain-fog sets in, to ensure you spend the whole exercise concentrating and absorbing rather than letting it drift over your head.
What's on
For those who are not familiar with the Roman and Greek dramas, you could be missing out on a treat – the most famous comedy playwrights, like Plautus in the case of the first and Aristophanes for the second, are behind prolific and downright hilarious works that will have you spluttering on your coffee; very easy to read in English translation, you'll be shocked at the ideas and themes they came up with 500 years before the birth of Christ (risqué humour wasn't invented by the current living generations, after all).
Plautus' The gods and God runs from Wednesday, June 30 to Sunday, July 4, his Love market from Wednesday to Sunday, July 14-18 and Comedy of the little basket on Sunday, July 25 and again on Sunday, August 15.
Greek dramas, of the 'tragedy' rather than 'comedy' variety feature Sophocles, whose characters are often referred to in everyday language even by those who do not know their story; Antigone is on Friday, July 23 and Thursday, August 12, and Oedipus (no spoilers, but the generally-accepted interpretation of the character's name in Freudian psychology is not in fact how the story goes; he has been framed rather unjustly since his surname became 'Complex') runs from Wednesday to Sunday, August 11-15.
Although approximately 2,000 years later than the Greek and Roman dramatists, Shakespeare's Anthony and Cleopatra is set during Ancient times, and comes to the stage in Mérida between this Thursday and Sunday, July 8-11.
Some of the above, and other plays, and musicals (like Golfus de Roma) are adaptations by modern scriptwriters, but their essence is not lost; the re-setting is purely to make them accessible and enjoyable to a wider public.
You can buy entries and get times and other details via the ticket-booking channel Entradas.com.
Roman around
Whether or not you get there this year, the festival will have acted as a mental highlighter pen for that wish-list entry, possibly inspiring you to cut the main course and get straight to the pudding.
The whole of Mérida (Cáceres province) has been a UNESCO heritage site since 1993, but it's the Roman city that acts as a magnet to visitors from every continent. If you've ever been to the Colisseo and Roman Forum in the Italian capital, or to Ephesus or Hieropolis (Pamukkale) in Turkey, and been left gasping in amazement, we can promise you'll be speaking entirely in exclamation marks during a trip to Mérida (and that you'll probably end up changing your Facebook cover photo the second you get back to your hotel).
It was founded as a settlement, or colony, in 25 BCE (BC), and was named Augusta Emerita, which eventually morphed into the modern-day name of Mérida, now home to nearly 60,000 residents. Two other cities of the same name, in Venezuela and in México, close to Chichén Itzá, were baptised as such in its honour during the Spanish colonisation of the Americas.
Getting you into the mood: The National Museum of Roman Art (MNAR)
Most tour operators recommend this is where you start, as it gives you a flavour for the remainder of it and some helpful background knowledge to allow you to get the best out of it.
The question about what have the Romans ever done for us has long ago been answered in detail (either through your lessons at school, travel elsewhere, or via the most accessible format possible – that scene in Monty Python's Life of Brian) but it still always comes as a shock when you're confronted with solid, historical evidence of the far-reaching changes this highly technologically-advanced civilisation made to our life hundreds of years before we even had one.
Although the actual museum is much more modern and is built in brick, the characteristic column-and-arch system has been recreated to mirror the size and shape of Trajan's Arch, and the display pieces are authentic.
Everyday items on the first floor include amphorae, or clay bottles used to store wine and olive oil, keeping it fresh when imported, and wax-covered tablets used as a precursor to post-it notes and jotter pads, scraping the surface to remove no-longer-needed writing and use it again; the second floor contains mosaïcs, tombstones and stone tablets; all of this being part of the everday lives of everyday people – the people, in fact, we ourselves would be if we had all been born a couple of millennia earlier.
The ground floor is where you'll find the huge sculptures, with their highly lifelike detail, that were created in place of the photographs that we use today; a key public figurehead might now have an official snap taken in a studio, but back then, their standard portrait was hewn in 3D.
Biggest attraction first
Some might have preferred to keep Mérida's most famous scene, the amphitheatre and the main theatre, for after-dinner mints and coffee, but on a guided trip you'll probably be led there straight after the museum – otherwise, visitors may get impatient and all other parts of the complex feel like something to be 'got through' en route to the 'best bit', which would be a terrible waste.
And, conveniently, they're right next to the MNAR.
If you're visiting under your own steam, Mérida tourism board recommends you get a full-site ticket so you can see all the different parts of the Roman city over several days; it means you can wander freely round the main hub and also visit some of the other key sites and monuments in the wider town from the same era.
Once inside the main hub, the recommended route is clearly marked to ensure you don't miss anything, and starts with the amphitheatre.
Sporting entertainment: The amphitheatre
Everything from Spain's bull-rings (now mostly used for live music events) to sports stadia and concert arenas worldwide have evolved from Roman amphitheatre design, a flat surface in the middle with staggered-height rows of seating all the way around, interspersed at ground level by a vomitorium at each of the compass points.
The latter bit sounds disgusting, but it actually just means enclosed tunnels or corridors passing below the seating to give access to players to the central flat part, as shown in the picture below; the meaning we now associate with the verb 'to vomit' derives from this type of building structure, as it refers to what's inside exiting via the outlet from which it entered. The Romans would not have pulled the face you did just now if you'd not heard of a vomitorium before, because they would not connect the word with an upset stomach.
Naturally, the amphitheatre in Mérida, just like those in other parts of Europe, including Spain (there's an impressive one in Sagunto, north of Valencia, too), were among the most heavily-frequented public venues during Romans' leisure time – for exactly the same reasons cinemas, football grounds and concert stadia are today. Partly for the spectator sport, and partly for socialising.
Except these spectator sports were a tad more violent than the UEFA Euro: Hand-to-paw fisticuffs between gladiators and ferocious wild animals, typically lions and tigers, with the surviving party hailed the winner (one or the other, human or beast, would not get out alive), and re-creations of famous ancient battles, which were frequently rather more authentic than we would want to see nowadays and where the number heading back out through the nearest vomitorium could be subtracted from the number that had headed in through it and give a total higher than zero (and usually with fractions added).
Despite the grim goings-on inside them – and which probably have their equivalent in car-crash-TV terms even in 21st-century western civilisation – Roman amphitheatres are generally felt to be beautiful and technologically-sophisticated structures that always make a splendid poster feature for advertising the town or city they are based in; but their layout was purely designed to be practical and funcional. The central part was normally where the props and dressing room were built, including spaces for animal cages, and then a huge wooden platform would be laid over it all and covered with thick sand just before the show, before being removed again when the spectacle was over.
Clearly, these platforms, being wood, have not survived the centuries, meaning visitors to any Roman amphitheatre today can usually see at least part of the 'backstage zone' in the open air now, and try to picture gladiators and mock battles happening on the 'roof'.
These 'sports grounds' had the same VIP and tourist-class seating types as we have today, although in those days, it wasn't just about who was willing to shell out the most via Ticketmaster on their credit card; the 'important' members of the audience would get the best spot and the humble civilians the restricted-viewing booths.
The aristocracy, rulers, and rich and powerful in general would sit in the Ima Cavea, or inner circle, the bleachers closest to the action, whilst the panoramic view comes from the Summa Cavea, or higher circle, right around the top, but curiously, mere mortals at the poorest end of society would end up there, despite arguably getting a superior angle. The middle classes would sit in the Media Cavea, or middle circle, where you're neither immediately in front of the show nor get a 360º view of it. In the case of Mérida's, only the Ima and Media Cavea seats remain, because towards the end of the Roman era and the early Mediaeval times, amphitheatres tended not to be used so much and the upper rows were plundered for building material.
Back in the day, the one in Mérida had seating for up to 15,000 spectators.
Show-stealer: The Roman Theatre
Anyone who's been on a typical sun-sea-sand package holiday to Turkey would probably have been given the option of a day trip to Ephesus, which is, of course, better-known to European tourists than Mérida – as is sadly the case with most of Spain's biggest attractions that at least equal and often beat hands-down the world's most highly-documented travel destinations. And if you've 'done' Ephesus, you'll have had pictures taken against the backdrop of its famous 'library', the 'shelf-like' bit with columns in front of it and one of the complex's most-snapped areas.
But compared with the Roman Theatre in Mérida, it's a bit like your local ABC multiplex cinema alongside the Sydney Opera House (or its superior version, the City of Arts and Sciences in Valencia).
As a bonus, if you head to the Classical Theatre Festival this summer, the shows take place on the Roman Theatre stage, where the seating is arranged around it in a kind of half-Colisseo or half-moon amphitheatre (bring a cushion, for obvious reasons, if you're planning on watching a show).
Built around the same time as the main amphitheatre next door to it (in 15 and 16 BCE; the amphitheatre opened in 8 BCE) and sponsored by the Consul Marcus Agrippus, the theatre had space for up to 6,000 sitting spectators, and even more on the ground-level flat platform in front (standing room, reserved for the most humble society members – those too humble even for the Summa Cavea).
Theatres were used for plays, of course, which were the Ancient equivalent of popular TV shows and so were occupied almost permanently by the public, but they were also used for political broadcasts and other official communications.
And, crucially, they served as propaganda: The more spectacular your theatre, amphitheatre and other public structures, the greater was your wealth and power and importance considered to be, so rulers throughout history have rarely skimped on artwork, architecture and design. From Roman to Renaissance, this propaganda was the equivalent of buying the biggest house, the flashest car or the most expensive designer handbag you could stretch to, ensuring the rest of the world got the message.
The Roman Theatre in Mérida is no exception: The front part of the stage is framed by a grid of solid-marble columns, with Corinthian capitels (the wider 'hat' at the top of a column), which was the most fancy of the three varieties in Classical architecture (Doric, Ionic and Corinthian).
Just outside the amphitheatre and theatre complex, beyond its boundary walls, is what is known as the 'amphitheatre house', a residential complex which includes a water tower fed by the aqueduct which carried water from the natural springs to the north of Mérida (a precursor to our mains pipes and reservoirs of today) and a mausoleum.
A day at the races: The Roman Circus
We think of a 'circus' as a large tent with clowns, custard pies and tightrope walkers, but its name merely comes from the Latin word for 'ring' (and, if you've noticed, circus big-top design, inside, exactly reflects that of a Roman amphitheatre).
The 'circus' in a Roman city will look familiar to you. Think Newmarket, Ascot; think Grand Prix circuits; think athletics tracks – a huge, flat, grassy stretch with an elongated central concrete island or 'spine'.
These, around 2,000-odd years ago, were used for the Ancients' answer to steeplechasing or flat-racing, or to Formula 1 or motorcycle Grand Prix: Chariot-racing.
In Spanish, these are referred to as either bigas, being chariots, or small racing carts, pulled by two horses, or cuadrigas, pulled by four; the drivers are known in Spanish as aurigas, and they really were the Fernando Alonsos, Lewis Hamiltons and Michael Schumachers of the time, in fact probably more so. Hailed as celebrities, if social media had been invented at the time they'd have racked up hundreds of millions of followers, but given that it wasn't, they were instead immortalised in paintings and mosaïcs. You may or may not have watched the film Ben-Hur and the famous four-horse chariot-racing scene, but if any Romans time-travelled to the late 20th or the 21st century, chances are they'd be renting the video tape, buying the DVD or downloading the movie as soon as you'd shown them how, as it depicts exactly what they loved to watch in the flesh.
So much so, in fact, that the Roman Circus in Mérida was even more heavily-frequented by every stratum of society than either the amphitheatre or the theatre.
Once again, seating circles were arranged in Ima, Media and Summa.
And as for the central island – nowadays it may be where trophies are presented, where the podium sits, the commentator broadcasts from at smaller events or where the local guest of honour is introduced and interviewed ahead of the show, but back then its purpose was functional, just to split the gigantic grass arena into a circuit; it was decorated with obelisks and sculptures, the latter being homages to wealthy rulers or to the aurigas or chariot-drivers.
The entire circus, a longish but not-too-tiring walk from the main hub of the Roman complex for the reasonably fit and able-bodied, or a very short car or coach ride for those who cannot or would rather not, is the biggest leisure facility of the lot – 400 metres (a quarter of a mile) long and 115 metres across, with seating for up to 30,000 people.
It was built at around the beginning of the first century CE (AD), so a good couple of decades after the theatre and amphitheatre and at least a quarter-century after the Roman colony of Mérida was founded – and was, in fact, the most prestigious and significant in the entire empire. If you're a motorsport fan, think of the circuit you would most want to go to if you were only allowed to visit one in a lifetime; Mérida was the Roman equivalent.
A spa break and mains waterworks: the San Lázaro aqueduct and thermal baths
If you've already made the hike to the circus, you'll almost certainly want to view these, as they are just next door.
The earliest spectators at chariot races, plays and gladiator fights would not have headed straight to the spa for a chill-out afterwards, since the thermal baths were not built until around the second century CE, but later generations did so, and they were in use for over 100 years.
They contained two heated swimming pools and one cold-water pool, an outdoor pool, and a palestra for sports practice, all supplied with water thanks to the San Lázaro aqueduct, which was part of the mains utility network that brought water to homes, businesses and farmland throughout the whole of Augusta Emerita.
Around 1,600 metres (a mile) long, the San Lázaro – part of which is still in its original structure and part of which was largely rebuilt and restored, albeit in keeping with the old Roman style, in the 16th century – fed off the river Albarregas, which the Romans knew as the river Barraeca.
There's more, but...
These are the key areas of the Mérida Roman city complex, and the ones you should head for first if you're short of time, but are only a smattering of the structures that a full visitor ticket will let you into.
Make sure you get to spend more than a day there, because you also need to see the Mitreus House, the Columbarios funerary area, the Santa Eulalia Basilica, the Los Milagros Aqueduct, the Roman bridge over the Albarregas river, the Provincial Forum and Municipal Forum, and Alcazaba, or fortress.
And don't miss the majestic and absolutely colossal Temple of Diana (pictured just below), named after the goddess of love.
Extremadura, in Spain's land-locked west, backs onto Portugal, has blue-flag inland beaches, a National Park (the Monfragüe) and is home to the vast, green Jerte Valley and Ambroz Valley and river Tajo international nature reserve, and is very close to mainland Spain's southernmost region of Andalucía, home to the Costa del Sol, Costa de la Luz, and other key beach holiday hotspots.
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IT'S NOT as though you'd ever need an excuse to head to Mérida, but as most of us find our travel wish lists grow at a much faster rate than we can either save up or find the time to check off entries, this western-Spanish city may well remain under the heading of 'oh-my-goodness-I-really-have-to-see-this' indefinitely, especially if it's an entry that you're keeping for dessert.
But now really is the right time, because its International Classical Theatre Festival has kicked off again for the first time since before the pandemic.
If you've already missed the tempting-sounding From Bach to Radiohead concert, which took spellbound viewers on a journey through as many different musical styles and geographical locations of these from the 17th to the 21st century as it could cram into one night – covering Rossini, Iron Maiden and Paco de Lucía – and if you don't think you're going to make it there in time for today's refugee documentary film Welcome to Spain, which was premièred at the Hot Docs International Festival in Toronto, Canada, then at least this is a taster of the imaginative variety of events you can catch in Mérida over the opening weekend from next year onwards.
Plenty of other events are on the cards for the next few weeks and, even though the plays performed are in Spanish, they are typically very well-known ones that you would be able to follow even if your language skills are not yet up to catching live, moving dialogue.
If you're keen to make sure this is, indeed, the case in time for next year's festival, a good way to practice is to find a film on DVD you know backwards and inside out, switch the language into Spanish and, if necessary, put the subtitles into Spanish, too, and make heavy use of the 'pause' and 'rewind' functions. Even just five or 10 minutes a day of this will help – in fact, it's better to stop when brain-fog sets in, to ensure you spend the whole exercise concentrating and absorbing rather than letting it drift over your head.
What's on
For those who are not familiar with the Roman and Greek dramas, you could be missing out on a treat – the most famous comedy playwrights, like Plautus in the case of the first and Aristophanes for the second, are behind prolific and downright hilarious works that will have you spluttering on your coffee; very easy to read in English translation, you'll be shocked at the ideas and themes they came up with 500 years before the birth of Christ (risqué humour wasn't invented by the current living generations, after all).
Plautus' The gods and God runs from Wednesday, June 30 to Sunday, July 4, his Love market from Wednesday to Sunday, July 14-18 and Comedy of the little basket on Sunday, July 25 and again on Sunday, August 15.
Greek dramas, of the 'tragedy' rather than 'comedy' variety feature Sophocles, whose characters are often referred to in everyday language even by those who do not know their story; Antigone is on Friday, July 23 and Thursday, August 12, and Oedipus (no spoilers, but the generally-accepted interpretation of the character's name in Freudian psychology is not in fact how the story goes; he has been framed rather unjustly since his surname became 'Complex') runs from Wednesday to Sunday, August 11-15.
Although approximately 2,000 years later than the Greek and Roman dramatists, Shakespeare's Anthony and Cleopatra is set during Ancient times, and comes to the stage in Mérida between this Thursday and Sunday, July 8-11.
Some of the above, and other plays, and musicals (like Golfus de Roma) are adaptations by modern scriptwriters, but their essence is not lost; the re-setting is purely to make them accessible and enjoyable to a wider public.
You can buy entries and get times and other details via the ticket-booking channel Entradas.com.
Roman around
Whether or not you get there this year, the festival will have acted as a mental highlighter pen for that wish-list entry, possibly inspiring you to cut the main course and get straight to the pudding.
The whole of Mérida (Cáceres province) has been a UNESCO heritage site since 1993, but it's the Roman city that acts as a magnet to visitors from every continent. If you've ever been to the Colisseo and Roman Forum in the Italian capital, or to Ephesus or Hieropolis (Pamukkale) in Turkey, and been left gasping in amazement, we can promise you'll be speaking entirely in exclamation marks during a trip to Mérida (and that you'll probably end up changing your Facebook cover photo the second you get back to your hotel).
It was founded as a settlement, or colony, in 25 BCE (BC), and was named Augusta Emerita, which eventually morphed into the modern-day name of Mérida, now home to nearly 60,000 residents. Two other cities of the same name, in Venezuela and in México, close to Chichén Itzá, were baptised as such in its honour during the Spanish colonisation of the Americas.
Getting you into the mood: The National Museum of Roman Art (MNAR)
Most tour operators recommend this is where you start, as it gives you a flavour for the remainder of it and some helpful background knowledge to allow you to get the best out of it.
The question about what have the Romans ever done for us has long ago been answered in detail (either through your lessons at school, travel elsewhere, or via the most accessible format possible – that scene in Monty Python's Life of Brian) but it still always comes as a shock when you're confronted with solid, historical evidence of the far-reaching changes this highly technologically-advanced civilisation made to our life hundreds of years before we even had one.
Although the actual museum is much more modern and is built in brick, the characteristic column-and-arch system has been recreated to mirror the size and shape of Trajan's Arch, and the display pieces are authentic.
Everyday items on the first floor include amphorae, or clay bottles used to store wine and olive oil, keeping it fresh when imported, and wax-covered tablets used as a precursor to post-it notes and jotter pads, scraping the surface to remove no-longer-needed writing and use it again; the second floor contains mosaïcs, tombstones and stone tablets; all of this being part of the everday lives of everyday people – the people, in fact, we ourselves would be if we had all been born a couple of millennia earlier.
The ground floor is where you'll find the huge sculptures, with their highly lifelike detail, that were created in place of the photographs that we use today; a key public figurehead might now have an official snap taken in a studio, but back then, their standard portrait was hewn in 3D.
Biggest attraction first
Some might have preferred to keep Mérida's most famous scene, the amphitheatre and the main theatre, for after-dinner mints and coffee, but on a guided trip you'll probably be led there straight after the museum – otherwise, visitors may get impatient and all other parts of the complex feel like something to be 'got through' en route to the 'best bit', which would be a terrible waste.
And, conveniently, they're right next to the MNAR.
If you're visiting under your own steam, Mérida tourism board recommends you get a full-site ticket so you can see all the different parts of the Roman city over several days; it means you can wander freely round the main hub and also visit some of the other key sites and monuments in the wider town from the same era.
Once inside the main hub, the recommended route is clearly marked to ensure you don't miss anything, and starts with the amphitheatre.
Sporting entertainment: The amphitheatre
Everything from Spain's bull-rings (now mostly used for live music events) to sports stadia and concert arenas worldwide have evolved from Roman amphitheatre design, a flat surface in the middle with staggered-height rows of seating all the way around, interspersed at ground level by a vomitorium at each of the compass points.
The latter bit sounds disgusting, but it actually just means enclosed tunnels or corridors passing below the seating to give access to players to the central flat part, as shown in the picture below; the meaning we now associate with the verb 'to vomit' derives from this type of building structure, as it refers to what's inside exiting via the outlet from which it entered. The Romans would not have pulled the face you did just now if you'd not heard of a vomitorium before, because they would not connect the word with an upset stomach.
Naturally, the amphitheatre in Mérida, just like those in other parts of Europe, including Spain (there's an impressive one in Sagunto, north of Valencia, too), were among the most heavily-frequented public venues during Romans' leisure time – for exactly the same reasons cinemas, football grounds and concert stadia are today. Partly for the spectator sport, and partly for socialising.
Except these spectator sports were a tad more violent than the UEFA Euro: Hand-to-paw fisticuffs between gladiators and ferocious wild animals, typically lions and tigers, with the surviving party hailed the winner (one or the other, human or beast, would not get out alive), and re-creations of famous ancient battles, which were frequently rather more authentic than we would want to see nowadays and where the number heading back out through the nearest vomitorium could be subtracted from the number that had headed in through it and give a total higher than zero (and usually with fractions added).
Despite the grim goings-on inside them – and which probably have their equivalent in car-crash-TV terms even in 21st-century western civilisation – Roman amphitheatres are generally felt to be beautiful and technologically-sophisticated structures that always make a splendid poster feature for advertising the town or city they are based in; but their layout was purely designed to be practical and funcional. The central part was normally where the props and dressing room were built, including spaces for animal cages, and then a huge wooden platform would be laid over it all and covered with thick sand just before the show, before being removed again when the spectacle was over.
Clearly, these platforms, being wood, have not survived the centuries, meaning visitors to any Roman amphitheatre today can usually see at least part of the 'backstage zone' in the open air now, and try to picture gladiators and mock battles happening on the 'roof'.
These 'sports grounds' had the same VIP and tourist-class seating types as we have today, although in those days, it wasn't just about who was willing to shell out the most via Ticketmaster on their credit card; the 'important' members of the audience would get the best spot and the humble civilians the restricted-viewing booths.
The aristocracy, rulers, and rich and powerful in general would sit in the Ima Cavea, or inner circle, the bleachers closest to the action, whilst the panoramic view comes from the Summa Cavea, or higher circle, right around the top, but curiously, mere mortals at the poorest end of society would end up there, despite arguably getting a superior angle. The middle classes would sit in the Media Cavea, or middle circle, where you're neither immediately in front of the show nor get a 360º view of it. In the case of Mérida's, only the Ima and Media Cavea seats remain, because towards the end of the Roman era and the early Mediaeval times, amphitheatres tended not to be used so much and the upper rows were plundered for building material.
Back in the day, the one in Mérida had seating for up to 15,000 spectators.
Show-stealer: The Roman Theatre
Anyone who's been on a typical sun-sea-sand package holiday to Turkey would probably have been given the option of a day trip to Ephesus, which is, of course, better-known to European tourists than Mérida – as is sadly the case with most of Spain's biggest attractions that at least equal and often beat hands-down the world's most highly-documented travel destinations. And if you've 'done' Ephesus, you'll have had pictures taken against the backdrop of its famous 'library', the 'shelf-like' bit with columns in front of it and one of the complex's most-snapped areas.
But compared with the Roman Theatre in Mérida, it's a bit like your local ABC multiplex cinema alongside the Sydney Opera House (or its superior version, the City of Arts and Sciences in Valencia).
As a bonus, if you head to the Classical Theatre Festival this summer, the shows take place on the Roman Theatre stage, where the seating is arranged around it in a kind of half-Colisseo or half-moon amphitheatre (bring a cushion, for obvious reasons, if you're planning on watching a show).
Built around the same time as the main amphitheatre next door to it (in 15 and 16 BCE; the amphitheatre opened in 8 BCE) and sponsored by the Consul Marcus Agrippus, the theatre had space for up to 6,000 sitting spectators, and even more on the ground-level flat platform in front (standing room, reserved for the most humble society members – those too humble even for the Summa Cavea).
Theatres were used for plays, of course, which were the Ancient equivalent of popular TV shows and so were occupied almost permanently by the public, but they were also used for political broadcasts and other official communications.
And, crucially, they served as propaganda: The more spectacular your theatre, amphitheatre and other public structures, the greater was your wealth and power and importance considered to be, so rulers throughout history have rarely skimped on artwork, architecture and design. From Roman to Renaissance, this propaganda was the equivalent of buying the biggest house, the flashest car or the most expensive designer handbag you could stretch to, ensuring the rest of the world got the message.
The Roman Theatre in Mérida is no exception: The front part of the stage is framed by a grid of solid-marble columns, with Corinthian capitels (the wider 'hat' at the top of a column), which was the most fancy of the three varieties in Classical architecture (Doric, Ionic and Corinthian).
Just outside the amphitheatre and theatre complex, beyond its boundary walls, is what is known as the 'amphitheatre house', a residential complex which includes a water tower fed by the aqueduct which carried water from the natural springs to the north of Mérida (a precursor to our mains pipes and reservoirs of today) and a mausoleum.
A day at the races: The Roman Circus
We think of a 'circus' as a large tent with clowns, custard pies and tightrope walkers, but its name merely comes from the Latin word for 'ring' (and, if you've noticed, circus big-top design, inside, exactly reflects that of a Roman amphitheatre).
The 'circus' in a Roman city will look familiar to you. Think Newmarket, Ascot; think Grand Prix circuits; think athletics tracks – a huge, flat, grassy stretch with an elongated central concrete island or 'spine'.
These, around 2,000-odd years ago, were used for the Ancients' answer to steeplechasing or flat-racing, or to Formula 1 or motorcycle Grand Prix: Chariot-racing.
In Spanish, these are referred to as either bigas, being chariots, or small racing carts, pulled by two horses, or cuadrigas, pulled by four; the drivers are known in Spanish as aurigas, and they really were the Fernando Alonsos, Lewis Hamiltons and Michael Schumachers of the time, in fact probably more so. Hailed as celebrities, if social media had been invented at the time they'd have racked up hundreds of millions of followers, but given that it wasn't, they were instead immortalised in paintings and mosaïcs. You may or may not have watched the film Ben-Hur and the famous four-horse chariot-racing scene, but if any Romans time-travelled to the late 20th or the 21st century, chances are they'd be renting the video tape, buying the DVD or downloading the movie as soon as you'd shown them how, as it depicts exactly what they loved to watch in the flesh.
So much so, in fact, that the Roman Circus in Mérida was even more heavily-frequented by every stratum of society than either the amphitheatre or the theatre.
Once again, seating circles were arranged in Ima, Media and Summa.
And as for the central island – nowadays it may be where trophies are presented, where the podium sits, the commentator broadcasts from at smaller events or where the local guest of honour is introduced and interviewed ahead of the show, but back then its purpose was functional, just to split the gigantic grass arena into a circuit; it was decorated with obelisks and sculptures, the latter being homages to wealthy rulers or to the aurigas or chariot-drivers.
The entire circus, a longish but not-too-tiring walk from the main hub of the Roman complex for the reasonably fit and able-bodied, or a very short car or coach ride for those who cannot or would rather not, is the biggest leisure facility of the lot – 400 metres (a quarter of a mile) long and 115 metres across, with seating for up to 30,000 people.
It was built at around the beginning of the first century CE (AD), so a good couple of decades after the theatre and amphitheatre and at least a quarter-century after the Roman colony of Mérida was founded – and was, in fact, the most prestigious and significant in the entire empire. If you're a motorsport fan, think of the circuit you would most want to go to if you were only allowed to visit one in a lifetime; Mérida was the Roman equivalent.
A spa break and mains waterworks: the San Lázaro aqueduct and thermal baths
If you've already made the hike to the circus, you'll almost certainly want to view these, as they are just next door.
The earliest spectators at chariot races, plays and gladiator fights would not have headed straight to the spa for a chill-out afterwards, since the thermal baths were not built until around the second century CE, but later generations did so, and they were in use for over 100 years.
They contained two heated swimming pools and one cold-water pool, an outdoor pool, and a palestra for sports practice, all supplied with water thanks to the San Lázaro aqueduct, which was part of the mains utility network that brought water to homes, businesses and farmland throughout the whole of Augusta Emerita.
Around 1,600 metres (a mile) long, the San Lázaro – part of which is still in its original structure and part of which was largely rebuilt and restored, albeit in keeping with the old Roman style, in the 16th century – fed off the river Albarregas, which the Romans knew as the river Barraeca.
There's more, but...
These are the key areas of the Mérida Roman city complex, and the ones you should head for first if you're short of time, but are only a smattering of the structures that a full visitor ticket will let you into.
Make sure you get to spend more than a day there, because you also need to see the Mitreus House, the Columbarios funerary area, the Santa Eulalia Basilica, the Los Milagros Aqueduct, the Roman bridge over the Albarregas river, the Provincial Forum and Municipal Forum, and Alcazaba, or fortress.
And don't miss the majestic and absolutely colossal Temple of Diana (pictured just below), named after the goddess of love.
Extremadura, in Spain's land-locked west, backs onto Portugal, has blue-flag inland beaches, a National Park (the Monfragüe) and is home to the vast, green Jerte Valley and Ambroz Valley and river Tajo international nature reserve, and is very close to mainland Spain's southernmost region of Andalucía, home to the Costa del Sol, Costa de la Luz, and other key beach holiday hotspots.
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