Linking the Pantheon in Rome with ancient Mausoleums

The Pantheon in Rome is recognized as the best-preserved Roman construction in the world. This statement, however, brings me back to Alexander and his Mausoleum in Alexandria, as discussed in my earlier blog, Speaking of the Mausoleum of Alexander. 

I explained how Alexander’s tomb inspired later kings and rulers to build their own Mausoleum. The same circular shape was declined in different ways, as described in said blog. However, the Pantheon in Rome used very distinct raw materials for its construction that were not available in the days of the Ptolemies when Alexander’s tomb was erected.  

The surviving Pantheon still makes a statement today, and its cupola resting on top of a circular supporting wall has puzzled architects and archaeologists for centuries. Today’s thorough analysis has shed new light on this monument. 

A temple-like front counting 16 monolith Corinthian columns gives access to the Pantheon proper with a diameter of 43.3 meters. The inscription on the front of the temple portico reading that Agrippa, the right arm of Augustus, built this Pantheon is misleading. Recent research has established that Augustus himself ordered the construction of the earliest Pantheon in 27 BC, which had a slightly wider façade. It faced his Mausoleum less than one kilometer away, built one year earlier, in 28 BC. It is noteworthy to keep in mind that both monuments stood outside the ancient city. 

This first Pantheon, dedicated to all the gods, was destroyed in the fire of Rome in 80 AD. Domitian rebuilt it soon enough, but it was burnt again in 110 AD. By that time, both Augustus and Agrippa were long dead. No reason – yet - to put Agrippa’s name on the façade. 

About ten years later, Hadrian built a new Pantheon on top of the charred remains of the previous versions. His building was made to last, and it did. The circular wall is six meters thick and robust enough to support the copula, 40 meters above the ground. The oculus, the opening at the center of the cupola, has a diameter of 8.70 meters. This opening, together with the rows of alcoves inside this cupola, helps to reduce its enormous weight. 

Examining the thin bricks covering the inside and outside concrete walls of the rotunda, scholars discovered that most were stamped with the name of Emperor Hadrian. The cement inside this 6-meter-thick wall is of a unique mix, using lava dust and fine lava gravel. This mixture was so strong that it was used henceforward all over the Roman Empire for the aqueducts, bridges, and other monumental buildings. As an extra, this cement was also waterproof and fireproof. Looking at the outside walls, one will notice many arches incorporated in its design, and their role was to reinforce the walls even further. 

This close examination of the Pantheon leads to further investigation of Hadrian's many monuments. The first visit goes to the Villa Hadriana in Tivoli, just outside Rome. The construction of this villa, which covered an area larger than Pompeii, probably started around 120 AD. It counted at least one thousand rooms and had an underground parking space for his chariots. A closer inspection revealed that the circular building on the central island, which is said to be the personal quarters of Hadrian, has the same diameter as the Pantheon. Speaking of megalomania! 

It transpires that Hadrian was not much loved by the Romans, although he was widely venerated elsewhere in the Empire. Trying to impose himself, he used Agrippa as a publicity stunt on the front of the Pantheon. In his days, 126 AD, the rotunda functioned as a court building. We’ll remember that Hadrian started the construction of his Mausoleum, the later Castel Sant’Angelo, in 130 BC (see: Speaking of the Mausoleum of Alexander). 

Stepping inside the Pantheon, any modern visitor will stop staring in awe at the oculus above their heads. Inevitably, the rain would fall onto the colorful marble floor. This floor was slightly tilted to drain the water through small apertures in the marble slabs and washed away in underground canals. By sunny weather, on the other hand, the light beam would illuminate the niches that once held statues and highlight parts of the marble floor. Hadrian had his statue in a prominent place inside the Pantheon. On April 24, the anniversary of the foundation of Rome, the sun would cover Emperor Hadrian with its godly rays. 

In 609 AD, the Pantheon was converted into a Christian Church dedicated to the Virgin Mary and all the Martyr Saints. This saved the precious building for posterity. In later centuries, it served as a model for the Basilica of the Vatican, Italy; the Panthéon in Paris, France; the Rotunda of the University of Virginia, USA; and many other public buildings all over the world. 

The Rotunda of Galerius in Thessaloniki

Fitting the same list of circular buildings is the Rotunda of Galerius in Thessaloniki, which is still standing. Emperor Galerius built it in 306 AD as his Mausoleum, although it may have served as a Mausoleum for Constantine the Great, who died in 337. Soon after, it became a Christian Church dedicated to the Archangels. After the Ottoman invasion in 1590, Thessaloniki’s church cathedral became a mosque until they were ousted in 1912. This Rotunda is a recognizable copy of the Pantheon in Rome, although smaller. Its height nearly reaches 30 meters to the top of the dome, and the circle measures 24.5 meters in diameter. The dome, which initially had an oculus, is resting on walls that are 6.3 meters thick and built similarly to its example in Rome. The construction is made of bricks that were covered with marble slabs on the outside. However, the interior walls were decorated with early Byzantine mosaics in the 4th-6th century.

Although we have no hard proof that all these Pantheons and Mausoleums arose in the wake of Alexander’s now-lost tomb in Alexandria, the very idea remains very tempting. It is doubtful that Alexander conceived his tomb at any time, neither when he was in Alexandria nor in Babylon. The city of Alexandria was still under construction when the king died, which was why his body was temporarily placed in a tomb in Memphis. Ptolemy I or his son Philadelphus brought Alexander’s golden sarcophagus to his burial site in Alexandria, approximately between 298 and 274 BC. 

Amazingly, no description at all has survived about its exact location. The same mystery surrounds the king’s second grand burial site after Ptolemy IV Philopator had completed the construction of the imposing new Royal Mausoleum. Alexander’s body was moved sometime during his reign, between 221 and 204 BC, and was placed amidst the remains of other members of the Ptolemy dynasty. This necropolis with the Alexander Mausoleum was located somewhere in the middle of the city. Ancient testimonies remain very vague on the subject, and since most of the initial Alexandria lies four or five meters under the modern metropolis, it will not reappear soon.

In any case, the Mausoleum of Alexander existed from the third century BC till after the reign of Emperor Hadrian, who died in 138 AD. Crowds of people paid tribute to Alexander over the centuries and yet his tomb could not be located!

[Picture 1 from Tiqets.com - Picture 2 from Wikimedia - Picture 3 from Wikipedia - Picture 4 is mine - Picture 5 from Tiqets.com]

Phaselis and its three harbors

Phaselis was colonized by the Greeks of Rhodes, and that was not without reason, for here, their navy could find a safe shelter in one of its three natural harbors to load the wood they needed from the Lycian hinterland to build their ships. When the Persians took Anatolia in 546 BC, they automatically became masters of Phaselis till Alexander the Great changed that in 333 BC. Ambassadors had met him already on his way from Xanthos, and as soon as he arrived in Phaselis, he was welcomed with a golden crown and other gifts as a gesture of friendship. His march through the rough country of Lycia, of which very little is known, must have been pretty heavy, and it is not surprising that Alexander decided to spend the winter of 334-333 BC in Phaselis to rest his troops. He received envoys from Pamphylia, which he planned to cross in the early spring before meeting up with Parmenion near Gordion with the other half of his army.

Meanwhile, the citizens of Phaselis tried to take advantage of their good understanding with Alexander to solve their own deep conflict with Marmara, whose people destroyed their crops regularly and even kidnapped their women. When it came to friendship, Alexander knew no half-measures, and the people of Marmara were well aware of that. The night before the battle, the men decided to send their women, children, and elderly to seek protection in the neighboring woods. The men defended Marmara to the last, and when the end was near, they set the entire city afire and perished themselves. A story for a book, no doubt.

After Alexander’s death, Phaselis remained in the hands of the Ptolemies until 197 BC when the city, like all of Lycia, came under the rule of Rhodes. After 160 BC, the Lycian League collapsed, and with so many other regions around the Mediterranean, the city fell under the control of Rome. Then danger arose from an entirely different angle, piracy. Just like Olympos, Phaselis was under repeated attacks, and in the first century BC, both cities chose to join Zeniketes, the most powerful pirate of his time. Yet in 42 BC, the Romans took Phaselis back as they managed to abolish piracy. This peace didn’t last very long either, for the pirates were back in the third century. In the meantime, the entire region was struck by a series of powerful earthquakes, such as those that occurred in 141 and on the 5th of August, 240, causing widespread damage. When the Roman Empire was divided between East and West, Phaselis’ decline set in. Exporting timber from the hinterland was halted, which meant a significant blow to the city’s economy. The harbor slowly silted up, creating marshy lowlands where mosquitoes thrived and, in turn, caused health problems. Ports like Antalya, Side, and Alanya were on the rise, and by the 11th century, Phaselis was totally impoverished and had virtually disappeared. We had to wait till the 1970s when the first explorers could locate the site.

Today’s Phaselis is not the most exciting place to visit, but its location is quite idyllic. An advantageous approach is from the sheltered Southern Harbor, which is generally used by today’s tourists. The Northern Harbor, on the other hand, is privileged because it was and is accessible under all circumstances, either by southwesterly or northeasterly winds. The two islets near the harbor entrance are all that remains of the pier connected to the mainland with a lighthouse on its far end. It is difficult to imagine that this peaceful cobblestone beach was once a busy harbor, with its Naval Harbor, exceptionally well protected, now a field of waving reeds populated by loud croaking frogs.

Further inland, we find the remains of a Roman aqueduct that brought water from the 70-meter-high plateau down to the city.

From here, it is easy to find the 24-meter-wide Harbor Street, which was entirely paved. On either side runs a sidewalk that can be reached via three steps. Cevdet Bayburtluoğu (see: Lycia) has speculated that there might have been an extra wooden step since the first one is pretty high. Statues of important citizens lined up the street, duly resting on a pedestal engraved with their names or the reason for their presence. The pedestals were put back into place after the Byzantines had removed them to build the pier. Cevdet Bayburtluoğu recovered them from the harbor's depth and put them back in place. This is the reason why some of these stones look so much worn. Notably, this avenue is reserved for pedestrians as the three-step staircase on either end makes cart access impossible.

To the left are the latrines, after a small bath establishment, the Bath of the Theatre, probably built after the earthquake of 240, since recuperation material from earlier periods has been used. The sewage of both complexes went straight into the Naval Harbor, where traces of this system can still be seen. After these small baths, which functioned at least until the 8th century, one reaches the theater, the inevitable eye-catcher in any city. The old staircase to the entrance is still there, but is not very recommendable. Instead, a relatively comfortable wooden construction has been put in place. The theater is typically Hellenistic, although the skene is a pure Roman addition. The walls of the skene have been badly damaged, not so much because of age but because of a severe fire that caused many lintels made of porous stone to collapse. Such a shame for a building that withstood centuries. A theater always touches a soft spot in my soul, for this is a place where people gathered some 2,000 years ago, walked through its corridors, and climbed its steps, with echoes of voices and sounds from times past under the watchful eyes of the snow-capped Tahtali mountain.

The central square or Agora is somewhat puzzling because it is a shapeless space situated halfway the Harbor Street, which continues further along the Agora of Domitian to the Southern Harbor. This Agora is neatly paved, and opposite the theater are the remains of a Nymphaeum – another of those monuments that a trained eye recognizes immediately. There are two more such Nymphaeums on either side of the passageway to the Agora of Hadrian. The left and oldest one (mid-3rd century AD) is rather difficult to make out, as opposed to the one on the right, dating from the end of the 3rd and beginning of the 4th century. In the prolongation of Harbor Street, the stretch between the Agora and the Southern Harbor that also ends with three steps, we find the Gate of Domitian, the entrance to the Agora by the same name. For some obscure reason, the name of Domitian was erased from all official buildings after his death.

We find most of the shops in this part of the city, but since the streets were only accessible to pedestrians, the supplies had to be brought in from the parallel back streets.

At the end of this paved road, next to the steps leading to the harbor, several marble blocks indicate where the large Triumphal Arch for Hadrian once stood. It was built in all its splendor after his second visit to Phaselis in 131 AD, when the city reached its climax. It consisted of one large vault resting on two square pillars decorated with lion paws. The busts of Faustina and Sabina have since long disappeared from the niches, and we can only find blocks with reliefs of fancy vines and drinking vessels.

It is nice to meet my friend Opramoas of Rhodiapolis again, in stone, that is. As mentioned earlier, he is the benefactor who contributed to the reconstruction of Phaselis after the terrible earthquake of 141 AD. In thankful remembrance, the citizens erected a monument in his honor not too far from the Agora of Hadrian. A small part of the accompanying inscription is still visible on the lintel above the gate.

The Southern Harbor, where today’s tourists anchor their boats, is a pleasant green oasis along the dark blue waters crowned by the snow-capped Tahtali Mountain in the background – a picture-perfect setting! According to Cevdet Bayburtluoğu, this is where we should look for the Greek city. No serious excavations were ever carried out in these parts, and the fencing is pretty random. Turkey has too many ruins and areas that require thorough research, making it extremely difficult to set priorities. If this is indeed the site of the original Greek city, which will have to be confirmed by future excavations, we may have a chance to recover the remains of the Temple of Athena, where Achilles’ lance was kept.

This being said, these parts of Phaselis have been recently (2008) threatened by a building project. The owner of the Rixos Hotels intended to build a new hotel, “Dream of Phaselis,” right on top of the ancient city. It was a hard fight, but environmentalists and archaeologists, for once, did win this battle, and in 2015, the project was abandoned!

Walking back, it is worth investigating the remains of the Large Baths and the Gymnasium along Harbor Street, both from the 2nd century AD. A few mosaic floors from Byzantine times are still there, as well as the piles of fireproof bricks that once supported the floors of the Caldarium and the Tepidarium. On the opposite side, several temples stood next to each other, but the remains were vague, and the thickets covered most of the walls from view. This is, however, the place to look for the Temple of Zeus with the inscription Dios Boulaios from the days of Nero and Antoninus Pius, and a little further, one should be able to find the two temples dedicated to Leto’s children, the twins Artemis and Apollo who were highly revered by the Lycians.

The intrepid visitor may still find the energy to scramble uphill to the necropolis, nothing more than broken and crumbled sarcophagi, some of them submerged downhill. About three-quarters of the necropolis seems to lie outside the fenced area and has yet to be excavated. There are imposing remains of a large mausoleum which at first was labeled as a temple because of the stumps of columns, but it is more likely that this was the tomb of a wealthy family from Phaselis.

Once again, it will be interesting to return here at some point in the future and see what new excavations will reveal and what additional information will become available.

Hierapolis, stepchild of Pamukkale

Tourists flock by dozens of busloads to visit the thermal springs of Pamukkale, which in Turkish means “cotton castle,” hardly aware of the existence of Hierapolis. As the spring water is cooling in contact with the air, it leaves behind a thick coat of travertine that sets in the shape of basins cascading downhill. It appears like a giant white scar in the landscape. Visitors loved to wade through these basins, trampling the fragile formation and polluting the mineral waters, with catastrophic results, as even hotels were built right on top. Luckily, the government stopped these practices, and hotels have been dismantled, while visitors are now generally ushered over wooden boards laid over the inviting basins. 

For me, this is the first time I have heard of Hierapolis, an ancient city half swallowed or integrated by the travertine deposits of Pamukkale. Upon arrival, I first glimpse the many impressive sarcophagi alongside the road, the largest concentration in Anatolia. 

Hierapolis, meaning “sacred city,” was founded by Eumenes II, King of Pergamon, in 190 BC and was famous for its woven fabrics, mainly wool. Like so many cities in the area, it surrendered to the Romans in 133 BC. However, a large part of the city was destroyed during the earthquake of 60 AD. Still, most of it was rebuilt afterward, and Hierapolis prospered again, reaching its apogee between 196 and 215 AD. By 395 AD, the Byzantines took over, and it was still known for its gladiator fights till it was abandoned in the 6th century, and a good part of the buildings disappeared under the travertine formations. 

The necropolis I first saw is huge and counts no less than 1200 sarcophagi and tombs built in the shape of mostly Roman houses, but others date from earlier Hellenistic or later Christian eras. I’ve never seen such a large concentration! A city by itself! 

Old Hierapolis is a little further down the road, where the Arch of Domitian leans against a thick, round fortification tower. From here, the 14-feet-wide colonnade street, the so-called Plateia, runs straight ahead for about 1,500 meters. To the left are the remains of the Agora leading to the ancient Theater with high crooked walls ready to tumble down any moment since the earthquake of 60 AD. The large Theater at the other end of the town dates from the 2nd century AD and once seated 20,000 people. Although only about thirty tiers of seats remain, it is worth admiring the Baroque stage that has been recently restored. In the upper part of the stage, reliefs of Septimius Severus and his wife Julia were found. This Roman Emperor loved Hierapolis and contributed to building this very Theater, whose architecture is said to be unique.

Nearby, we find the poor remains of the Nympheum with the adjacent pool, which might be the only testimony of the Temple of Apollo. This site was abandoned after the earthquake of the 7th century, and the marble portico collapsed into the spring waters. Today’s visitors are welcome to swim between these idyllic marble columns among lush flowers and bushes of pink laurel. What a setting! 

Because of the hot springs, Hierapolis was a popular health center in Roman times when literally thousands of people bathed in one of the fifteen baths, each seeking his/her own kind of remedy. 

From down here, I try to take in the site. There is still a lot of excavation work in this large city. As I see no fence or surveillance, many antique artifacts must be simply for the taking. The locals freely swarm out over the site with their embroidered pillowcases, crocheted napkins, postcards, and booklets as if they own the place. In a sense, they do, but I expect stricter control over an archaeological site. 

I climb to a higher point among the ruins, basically to get away from the noisy crowds. I reach the sturdy walls of Philip’s Martyrium, a church built in the 5th century AD on the alleged spot where Apostle Philip was stoned and crucified upside down in 80 AD. Outside the church runs a corridor where the pilgrims can find a room for the night. The square Martyrium measures no less than 20 x 20 meters, and in its center lies an octagonal rotunda surrounding a crypt that was tied to the apostle for years. Excavations in 2014, however, have located Philip’s gravesite in a 1st-century Roman tomb at the center of a new Christian church, some 40 meters away. This church was built around the grave in the 4th/5th centuries.

[This picture is from Archaeology News Network]

Excavations are still ongoing at Hierapolis, and in 2013, a unique head of Aphrodite was found, clearly dating from the Hellenistic era based on the hairdo and the facial features. More marble sculptures were unearthed, and all have been moved to the nearby Hierapolis Archaeology Museum.

At about the same time, the statue of a 1.5-meter-high marble Cerberus was found. He was the mythological three-headed dog who guarded the entrance to the underworld or Hades, the so-called Gate to Hell. It was discovered thanks to the remains of small birds that appeared to have fallen dead at the mouth of a cave spewing deadly carbon dioxide fumes. Cicero visited this cave in the 1st century BC and reported the phenomenon. Sparrows and also bulls fell dead at the entrance of the cave. Besides this Cerberus, archaeologists also found a huge marble serpent, another mythical guardian of access to the next world.

Wait and see what else the archaeologists will discover in the future.

Apollonia in Cyrenaica (eastern Libya) after Alexander

In 322 BC, the year after Alexander’s death, Ptolemy I, who had established himself as ruler of Egypt, conquered five Libyan cities. They are collectively known as the Pentapolis and include, besides Cyrene, the cities of Apollonia, Ptolemais or Barca, Arsinoe or Taucheira (modern Tocra), and Euesperides or Berenice (near modern Benghazi). In those days, Cyrenaica was part of greater Egypt and often simply assimilated into Egypt itself. The region was very fertile and produced wheat and barley, as well as olive oil and wine; the orchards in turn were filled with fig and apple-trees; sheep and cattle roamed widely; and above all, this was the only place in the world where silphium grew, a natural medicine, a contraceptive and aphrodisiac.

In an earlier post, I already wrote about Cyrene (see: Cyrene, founded by the Greeks), so this time I’ll concentrate on Apollonia, now renamed Susa in today’s eastern Libya, the most obvious choice since it was the harbor for majestic Cyrene, only some twenty kilometers further inland.

Apollonia was founded by Greek colonists as early as the 7th century BC, and during the fourth century BC, the harbor facilities were widely improved, sheltering the berths against the strong northern winds. On the west side, a new inland port was constructed, protected by two towers, while on the most eastern island, a lighthouse was installed. It was only in the first century BC that Apollonia became a city in its own right. Not for long, however, since upon Ptolemy III’s death in 96 BC the entire Pentapolis, including Cyrene and Apollonia, was bequeathed to the Romans, who just moved a step closer to Egypt itself …

Today’s visitor to Apollonia will only find half of the antique city as the other half lies underwater. Northern Africa has suffered badly from a devastating earthquake that occurred in 365 AD, causing the entire coastline to drop by four meters. The phenomenon is clearly visible here in Apollonia, where the old harbor is entirely drowned, and the three offshore islands are all that remains of the northern pier. This explains why the city doesn’t have the appeal of a harbor, and certainly not one to serve a city as important as Cyrene. Apparently, shipwrecks from the fourth century BC have been located in the antique harbor where French archaeologists were diving during my visit in 2010. I hate to think about what has happened since.

Anyway, Apollonia’s remains are mainly Byzantine, with three Basilicas: the western Basilica with three naves; the central Basilica with five naves; and to the far end, the eastern Basilica, the largest, from the 6th century, with an exceptional Baptistery because it has six steps instead of the normal three. My local guide tells me that in the Byzantine era, the purpose of this Baptistery was not to baptize people in order to convert them but to receive forgiveness for their sins. One submersion would cleanse the believer from small sins, but for more serious offenses, five or six submersions would be required. I never heard of this theory, but it may be a logical explanation for the great number of baptisteries in these churches.

Next to the central Basilica are the remains of a Roman Bath, whose layout, except for the entrance gate, is rather confusing. That is no surprise when you think of how the Byzantines liked to remodel Roman buildings or re-use their stones elsewhere.

Alongside the Byzantine city wall and approximately across from the Roman Baths, lies the Palace of the Dux, the Byzantine governor Hekobolius from the 6th century, i.e., the time when Apollonia was the capital of the Pentapolis. The palace itself does not offer much, but the story that goes with it is rather interesting. For nearly six years, this Hekobolius kept an extremely good-looking mistress called Theodora. One day, she happened to be dancing in Constantinople for Emperor Justinian, who fell in love head over heels and married her soon after. This is how Empress Theodora arrived at the imperial court, where she lived happily ever after … Well, this marriage lasted about twenty years, and Theodora died before Justinian, on 28 June 548.

More remains of Apollonia have not yet been excavated, including the Acropolis at the far end of the site. Outside the city wall lies the inevitable Roman theater (although built on an earlier Greek one) that now lies near the shoreline. According to an inscription found near the podium, it was built in 92 AD during the reign of Emperor Domitian. This is the best-preserved theater of the Cyrenaica despite being used as a quarry by the Byzantines.

A last glance over Apollonia makes me realize that the restored columns of the different Basilicas are the most notable features, but that is primarily because of their texture. All these columns are made of cipolin marble, imported from the island of Euboea, off the coast of eastern Greece. Cipolin is the Italian name for onions and is used to describe this kind of marble, which, like onion skins, appears in green-grayish streaks – a very appropriate name, I must say.

Walking back along the coastline, my attention is drawn towards four large round pits carved in the rock. These pits were used to marinate fish in order to make the famous garum or fish paste, a delicacy for the Romans. How interesting!

The grandeur of Ephesos

It is quite unusual that after so many years and so many visits, I never put anything in writing about beautiful Ephesos, the number one excursion for any tourist to the west coast of Turkey.

The first time I visited the site was during my very first tour of Turkey, and it must be said, with an incompetent guide who claimed he knew it all and treated us as little children. So I gave up listening to his incorrect explanations and drifted off into my own world. He took us to Ephesos in the morning, when huge crowds of visitors were spilling out of the many buses on what seemed like a large parking lot. I remembered my lack of breathing space, the loud talking of the many guides in different languages, and how a solid mass of people pushed me and carried me through the streets of old Ephesos – my greatest apprehension when I visited an antique site. Useless to point out that these circumstances were far from ideal and that my perception of this old city did not match any of the many photographs I had seen over the years with near-empty streets to tempt vast crowds of visitors.

Luckily, this unfortunate experience was soon obliterated by my next visit with Peter Sommer during his tour In the Footsteps of Alexander the Great. To my greatest surprise, the parking lot turned out to be much smaller than what I remembered, hardly filled by a handful of cars and maybe two or three buses. The streets of antique Ephesos seemed deserted this late in the afternoon, and the different buildings now truly showed at their best – the true way to look at the city from Alexander’s point of view. Only now did I see how beautiful this site really was! What a relief!

Ephesos, the Turkish Efes, has a magical ring that may go back to antiquity. I always saw it as the ideal Greek city in Asia Minor, where Alexander and so many other great men from times past had written history. So it was no surprise that my heart was skipping a beat! My first steps over the old pavement were insecure, for my legs were shaking, and my knees felt weak. How many sandals had stridden over these polished stones? How many people through the ages had walked here, all carrying their own burdens and having their own dreams? I ran my hands over the columns and walls, just to make sure they were real – and maybe, just maybe, they had something to tell me? I know this sounds crazy, but I can’t help it. At last, I was face to face with the past; it was so palpable, so very much alive!

Before heading to the main street, I followed the water supply system to a rather large round construction where the water was collected based on Archimedes’ laws. From here, and thanks to an ingenious system of earthen pipes, the water was distributed all over the lower city of Ephesos.

As I stroll down further, my imagination is taking wings! Past the Temple of Domitian lies the Odeon from 150 AD with beautifully preserved arches, originally used as a Bouleuterion with enough seating for 1400 officials. Like so often, the Odeon could be entirely shaded from the sun or the rain if needed. Behind me are the Baths of Varius, now richly decorated with bright red poppies. I marvel at the well-preserved and perfectly connected terracotta water drains all over the city.

At the Gate of Hercules, the passage suddenly narrows to open up again into Curetes Street. It seems that originally this 4th-century gate had an upper floor and was decorated with winged goddesses of victory. Curetus Street runs downhill, straight to the Library of Celsus, and is lined with columns on both sides from where wealthy and powerful citizens once looked down on me. Behind these columns runs a mosaic-paved sidewalk giving access to the cool vaulted shops and some official buildings. These are mere marble skeletons with drafty doorways and gaping windows that once must have created a feeling of safety and a certain complacency. Wooden doors with copper and bronze fittings would have locked out the street noise. The houses had no windows on the street side, only on the inside looking out onto the Atrium or the Peristyle. In summer, these spaces were shaded to keep out the sun and the heat, while in the colder winter months, the rooms were comfortably refurbished and enhanced with floor heating. This luxurious main street, I am told, was lit at night with torches – how I envy those days!

Further down the street, I pass the large Fountain of Trajan, once showing the emperor’s stately statue, and in its shade stands the marble Temple of Hadrian. The friezes from the entrance walls are copies of the originals now visible at the local museum of Selçuk. Yet it is great to have works of art, even copies, back in place to give an idea of what it must have looked like. With nobody walking in my way, I can step back for a better look, and the low sun adds just enough to the atmosphere to drift back in time. Behind this Temple of Hadrian, the Romans built their Baths in the fourth century AD, without forgetting the basic need for latrines, the public toilets in an adjacent room. They are simple cozy seats next to one another, where you sit above your own hole to do what you have to do. The underlying ditch is at least one meter deep and runs downhill like the main street. I just hope the water will run fast enough to keep the air clean. In front of the seats, there is a gutter through which water would be flowing and where you could dip the sponge on a stick to clean yourself.

Across the street from Hadrian’s Temple, I notice two spiraled columns, definitely marking a special entrance. For many years, archaeologists have been working hard to restore two of the seven villas of the rich and famous, generally called the Terrace Houses (see: Ephesos and its Terrace Houses). Two houses may not seem much, but they do total 78 rooms, no small residences dating generally from the first to the third century. The elegant frescos and marble or mosaic floors have nothing to envy to Pompeii or Herculaneum, they are simply superb. Many tourists skip this corner of Ephesos simply because a separate entrance fee is requested, but I think this is entirely unjustified. The glass walkways and stairs lead the visitors through the premises without obstructing the panoramic view. The colors are as fresh as if they were applied just yesterday, unbelievable! If there is one place to get a true feeling of the Roman lifestyle, this is the place!

With or without the stop at the villas, the visitor now reaches the Library of Celsus, which has been beckoning from the onset. It is indeed an impressive building with a carefully reconstructed façade, yet it is consistent with the grandeur and wealth of Ephesos. The high Corinthian columns support richly decorated ceiling caissons and frame the statues of four goddesses on their high pedestal, i.e., Sofia (wisdom), Arete (virtue), Ennoia (intelligence), and Episteme (knowledge). It was Consul Gaius Julius Aquila who built this Library around 105-107 AD for his father, a worthy present, I would say. The inside walls were once covered with colored marble and still vaguely show traces of the niches where the papyrus scrolls were kept. The space is quite grand, measuring 11 x 17 meters, and inevitably, I am reminded of Ptolemy’s library as shown in Oliver Stone’s movie Alexander. How I would have loved to roam here in those days!

Behind me is a strange, round structure that seemed unidentified at the time of my visit, but I recently heard that this could be the tomb of Arsinoe, Queen Cleopatra’s sister.

Through the three arches of the adjacent Gate of Commerce (first century AD), I reach the Agora, the marketplace that was surrounded by an impressive Stoa with Corinthian columns. This huge Agora covers a surface of 110x110 meters – quite incredible. The road from here to the connection with the road to the harbor shows deep ruts in the pavement, testifying to the heavy traffic that must have passed through. Excavations towards the harbor are still underway, and the area is not accessible yet. At the landside end of that street lies the huge theater, originally a Greek construction, masterfully nestled against the slopes of Mount Pion, that was renovated and enlarged by the Romans to offer seating for no less than 25,000 spectators. From one of the top rows, I have a sweeping view over the entire city, all the way to the green marshes now covering the ancient harbor. It is wonderful to sit here for a while to take in the scenery and imagine the hustle and bustle of antiquity.

Alexander saw, of course, a different city with different buildings, but the location and probably the layout of Ephesos were very much the same. For more about this, see Alexander’s presence in Ephesos.

Alexander, founder of Gerasa

Gerasa, known today as Jerash in Jordan, rises in the broad and fertile valley of the Chrysorrhoas River. It is said that Alexander the Great founded a Greek colony on this spot in 331 BC, although there have been previous occupations on and off, as far back as 3,000 BC.

Very little is mentioned about Alexander's visit to Gerasa by ancient historians. Only Curtius vaguely points in this direction when he tells us that the Samaritans rose up and burned Andromache, the Greek governor of Syria, alive. This happened while Alexander was in Egypt, and based on Eusebius' Chronicles, he set out immediately with Perdiccas to raze Gerasa and Samaria. Alexander avenged this murder, executed all who had slain his general, and appointed a new governor, Menon. The inhabitants were slaughtered and enslaved, after which he resettled the site with Macedonians. He must have saved much of the city after all, and not really razed it as Eusebius leads us to believe.

After the death of Alexander, Gerasa and the neighboring territories were annexed by the Ptolemies in 301 BC. During the third and second centuries BC, the Seleucids took hold of the area. They undertook a thorough Hellenization, contributing largely to developing Gerasa into a busy urban center. Antiochus III renamed the city Antiochia-on-the-Chrysorrhoas or Antiochia of the Gerasenes, and by 64-63 BC, it became a Roman province.

To properly govern Judea and Syria, situated on the eastern frontier of their empire, the Romans created a Decapolis, a group of ten cities that shared the same language, commercial relations, and political status. Each city enjoyed a certain degree of autonomy with its own Semitic, Nabataean, Aramean, and Jewish culture. We owe it to Pliny for reporting the complete list of the member cities:

Damascus (in Syria)

Philadelphia (modern Amman in Jordan)

Gerasa (now Jerash in Jordan)

Scythopolis (now Beisan in the Jordan Valley, North Israel)

Gadara (modern Umm Qays in Jordan) and once the capital of this Decapolis

Hippos (on the banks of Lake Tiberias in Israel)

Dion (probably near Irbid in Jordan, but not yet discovered)

Pella (in the Jordan Valley, northwest of Amman in Jordan)

Canatha (now Qanawat in Syria) and

Raphana (probably north of Umm Qays in Jordan, but not yet discovered either).

In 106, Emperor Trajan added the rich lands of the Nabataeans to the province of Arabia, and in the years 112-114, a new caravan route was laid out in the tracks of the 5,000-year-old existing one. This Via Nova Triana connected Syria to Aqaba, and today's main road from Amman to Aqaba still follows the same route as the King's Highway. Business with the Nabataeans flourished as they guarded the vital trade route through Petra. Consequently, Gerasa grew – also thanks to the city's fertile agricultural lands and the minerals dug in nearby Ajloun. Today's remains of Gerasa date back to those prosperous days, i.e., the 2nd/3rd century, when the city counted 20,000 inhabitants living mainly on the east side, which is still hidden underneath modern Jerash. Gerasa was one of the most thriving cities in Palestine.

By the end of the 3rd century, however, most of the trade went overseas, and the role of Gerasa became superfluous. Emperor Constantine introduced Christianity, which was widespread by the fifth century, as is proven by the many churches built here: 13 churches in 400-600 AD alone. The earthquake of 747 severely damaged the city, and the population decreased to about 4,000. Gerasa had become no more than a small village by the time it was incorporated into the Islamic world. Slowly, this once so proud city entirely disappeared under layers of sand till it was rediscovered in the 19th century.

This summarizes my historical baggage when I'm about to visit old Gerasa, with its fascinating round Forum that is advertised in every single tourist's brochure.

I'm happy to enter the city through (in reality, next to) the Arch of Hadrian, who honored Gerasa with a visit in the year 129. The world traveler, Hadrian! There is hardly any city that his emperor has not visited, and curiously enough, every single one of them built an Arch in loving memory. The monumental arch of Gerasa is in excellent condition, and small restorations are not prominent. As is customary, it counts three gates, and the middle passage is at least eleven meters high. Both facades are practically identical and richly decorated with acanthus leaves. The now-empty niches initially held statues, of course. Strangely enough, this arch stands about half a kilometer away, outside the city walls. At its construction, Gerasa had plans for expansion and building new walls – plans that never materialized.

The modern asphalted road runs more or less on top of the Chrysorrhoas River that divided Gerasa into two, and the Roman ruins of all the official buildings occupy the left (west) side. A modern paved road squeezes between this asphalted road and the impressive remains of the Roman Hippodrome, leading to the modern entrance gate. I walk the entire length of the Hippodrome (260 meters), where pseudo-Romans are now in full action with their horse races. The east side of the Hippodrome is best preserved with a complex system of vaults that was supposed to carry the weight of the 16 or 17 rows of seating above. I stop a moment to take a close look at the impressive length of the field, trying to picture how, in the third century, as many as 15,000 people filled the tiers.

Once inside the old city walls, I almost immediately stand in the middle of the Great Oval Forum, bordered by high Ionic columns, the iconic image of Gerasa. It's not only the oval shape that captures the attention, but also the size of this entirely paved piazza, which is no less than 90 meters long! Behind the columns runs a two-meter-wide sidewalk. I stand here in awe for quite a while, trying to realize that I am really here and not staring at a picture of some kind. I could have spent much more time in this wondrous, unique spot. Although this space is generally referred to as a forum, archaeologists need to figure out the actual function of this space. The significance of the two square podiums in the middle still needs to be determined since they could have served as an altar or simply as a base for some statues. Underneath the Forum, the remains of a drainage system have been discovered – how ingenious!

Over my left shoulder lies the large Roman Theater, and ahead of me runs the Cardo, the north-south axis along the river. My view over the straight road stops at the first Tetrapylon that marks the crossing with the southern Decumanus. A second Tetrapylon stands further down the Cardo where the northern Decumanus crosses, and beyond that, approximately 800 meters further, I can see the Northern City Gate. Almost the entire length of the Cardo is framed with slender Corinthian columns behind which the sidewalk, probably once covered, leads to the entrance of the many temples of the Forum. Still, when the Cardo was enlarged in the second century, it was decided to replace the Ionian capitals with Corinthian ones – a matter of fashion, probably.

I start my walk over the Cardo and turn left into the southern Decumanus, sensitive as always to the fact that I am treading over two thousand years old pavements. Standing at the crossing where the Tetrapylon once stood as a crown jewel is another of those impressions you cannot easily forget. To my right, the road disappears under modern Jerash, but I'm intrigued by what I'll find on the left-hand side.

The most impressive building here is the Temple of Artemis. Still, it takes a while to figure out the layout among the walls and stairs that also belong to later Byzantine and Umayyad additions. Many churches have been built, and there was even a cathedral with a shrine dedicated to the Virgin Mary. Since the Temple of Artemis was set on top of a hill, I had to cross many corridors, jump many ditches, and climb many stairs to get there. As always, the choice of the location is sublime, for the Temple commanded the view and was the most important building of Gerasa. Considering the enormous dimensions (the Temple occupies a surface of 34,000 square meters) and the grand setup of the different parts, this does not come as a surprise. It was built during the second century when the whole city underwent a facelift.

To be correct, I should have approached the temple complex from the east, where the Via Sacra, on the other side of the Cardo, starts at a central court surrounded by columns (later holding a Byzantine church) to join the Cardo flanked by two fountains. On the opposite side of the street lies a 120-meter-long portico with four massive columns, crowned with richly decorated architraves, the Propylaea. This part was lushly decorated, and the two still-existing side gates are proof of that. Several shops were spread over two levels to the left and to the right. After entering the Propylaea, I must climb wide stairs interrupted by broad terraces that provide rewarding views over the complex and the city. In the middle of the first terrace, I find the foundation of a large U-shaped altar according to Eastern traditions. An earlier Temple of Artemis may have stood here.

A second flight of stairs leads to the terrace atop the hill. Access to the central court of 161 x 121 meters was through one of the surrounding porticos. The Temple proper was framed by Corinthian columns, six on the short and eleven on the long sides. A broad set of stairs leads to the cella, the heart of the Temple. The inside walls were covered with marble, and in the back stood the statue of the goddess guarding the Temple's treasury. Two more sets of stairs led to the supposedly flat roof where, according to Eastern traditions, some rituals were carried out. It is a strange combination of Hellenistic and Roman construction elements, but this certainly is one of the largest and most impressive temples I've ever seen – more so than Didyma, for instance, which kept me in awe.

Loose blocks of columns, capitals, and architrave have been reused over the centuries to construct surrounding churches and buildings. From the fourth century onward, sections of the crepidoma were reused and reworked in the surrounding workshops. So it is no surprise to discover a huge saw in the depths next to the Temple. Big stone blocks and marble slabs could be sawn into small plates to build and decorate new constructions. This machine is a reconstruction with a wooden water wheel activated by a nearby source, i.e., the power to bring the four saws in motion. Quite an unexpected surprise!

It is while walking back down to the Cardo that I fully understand how impressive and unique the location of this Temple of Artemis must have been. Because I approached the Temple from the side instead of the Via Sacra, my first impression was entirely different. It's only now that I walk over the various terraces, surrounded or not by colonnades, to end on the staircase running over the entire width of the complex. This is how the pilgrim must have looked up the steep stairs and felt pretty small. The view from the Propylaea towards the Cardo is beautifully framed, and although I now stare at modern Jerash, it does give an excellent picture of what once was. Back on the street, I turn around for a last glimpse, but I can't even see the very Temple from here. It definitely shows an unsurpassed grandeur, one of those absolutely unique settings. My thoughts go back to Pliny and Meleagros, who compared Gadara (Umm Qays) with Athens, but I wonder what they had to say about Gerasa. As far as I'm concerned, the only comparison I can make is with the Acropolis in Athens, where you approach the Parthenon after climbing the stairs of the Propylaea in the same way.

Having reached the end of the city at what looks like an arch or a gate, I discover that I have arrived at the Northern Tetrapylon and that the Cardo still runs onwards to the northern city Gate. The land on either side has yet to be excavated and is currently used as grazing grounds for the goats.

I turn left to follow the northern Decumanus to the Small Theatre, which was probably conceived as an Odeon. It looks pretty good, but upon closer examination, it has been thoroughly restored. From the top row of seats, I can see as far as the Oval Forum, the Hippodrome, and the Arch of Hadrian – a gratifying view in the floodlights of the late evening sun. I climb down and walk behind the large Temple of Artemis, where I find a beautiful mosaic floor that once belonged to a Byzantine Basilica, behind a row of six particular churches that filled the back garden of the Temple of Artemis. From this spot, I once again enjoy a breathtaking view over Gerasa now that the colonnades and streets catch the last sunrays, particularly the fascinating circle of the Forum. There must be around 230 columns still standing! What a city! What an eye-catcher!

Retracing my steps to the long Cardo, I pass by one of the several Nymphaeums spread throughout the city. This fountain from the 2nd century is not exceptionally big but very gracious. The colonnade alongside the Cardo has been interrupted here for the 22-meter-wide entrance. Initially, this fountain was covered with slabs of colored marble, and the niches held several statues. It must have been a dazzling work of art that we can hardly imagine.

The large southern theatre is much better preserved than its smaller brother at the other end of the city, meaning that much more of the original stones have survived. Its construction started during the reign of Emperor Domitian, between 81 and 96 AD, and was financed by the people of Gerasa. It has been revealed that a certain Titus Flavius spent the sum of 3,000 drachmes for one single row of seats! The theater still boasts 4,000 seats, with a podium and the two-story paraskenia in near-perfect condition. The four times three niches just underneath the stage's border are also well-preserved. I always feel very privileged to walk up and down a theater and through its vaulted corridors, whether leading to the podium or running behind the seating area used by the theater-goers. Still today, people use these corridors, treading in the same footsteps as those from ancient times.

I walk back past the poor remains of the large Temple of Zeus. It is said that the oldest part of Gerasa lies underneath this sanctuary, maybe even the original Macedonian settlement. It would be inspiring to have confirmation of this theory one day. This Temple of Zeus, however, is pure East-Roman since it was consecrated in 162-163 during the reign of Antoninus Pius. The general plan is hard to recognize, were it not for the proud Corinthian columns. According to an inscription, a certain Theon would have paid considerable money for the Temple's construction and the bronze statue it once sheltered. The name of the architect of the first temple terrace has also been found, an inhabitant of Gerasa called Diodorus, who financed this monument during the years 27 and 28 AD. Information like this brings the stones to life, isn't it?

On this wintry day, the sun sets shortly after 4 pm, and it becomes difficult to take any more pictures, but this is when nature turns quiet and the spirits of past times come alive, isn't it?