Bari. At the Crossroads of Apulia

Today I would like to write about Bari, a large port city located in the Apulia region in southern Italy. It is one of those places that can be visited well beyond the peak summer season. Even in autumn, temperatures here remain pleasantly high, although it is still worth being prepared for occasional rainy days, which can appear quite suddenly at this time of year.

Unlike many of my previous trips to Italy, my stay in Bari was not limited to walking through a historic centre for a day or two. I spent nearly a week around the city while visiting family living several kilometres outside Bari. Because I had a rental car, I was able to see not only the most tourist-oriented places, but also the more contemporary and everyday side the city. It was precisely this double perspective that made Bari far more memorable than I had initially expected. On one hand, there are the very old, narrow streets of Bari Vecchia, full of tourists, restaurants, and historical landmarks, while on the other there are modern districts, broad avenues, heavy traffic, and the everyday life of a large city. And I have the impression that only after seeing both of these worlds is it possible to better understand Bari. In fact, I have noticed that this often happens when I travel for reasons other than tourism. Sometimes it is work, sometimes visiting family, but staying a little longer usually allows me to see a city from a much broader perspective than just its old town and main tourist attractions.

Driving through the city itself was also an experience of its own. It quickly became clear that finding a parking space in the late evening in the centre where I rented an apartment, was not exactly easy. The local driving style required a certain amount of adjustment, as well. I very quickly started appreciating the fact that the car had front and rear cameras, because many parking spaces looked significantly smaller than those I am used to. Bari did not feel unfriendly towards drivers, however – rather, it felt like a city functioning according to its own rules and rhythm, to which you simply have to adapt. What also surprised me in comparison with my own country was the much smaller number of road signs. Very often, especially at junctions, you have to pay close attention to the lines painted on the road itself, because only then do you realise who actually has priority.

At the same time, the car gave us an enormous amount of freedom, especially because some of our trips around the region were made together with my two-year-old niece. Bari became our base for exploring a larger part of Apulia and even a fragment of neighbouring Basilicata. Over the course of several days, we visited places including Alberobello with its famous trulli houses, Matera with its rock-cut districts, and Castel del Monte, which remains one of the most mysterious medieval buildings in Italy to this day. All of these places are located relatively close to Bari, and it is precisely then that you realise how good a base this city can be.

Despite the numerous trips outside Bari, there was also time to explore the city itself at a slower pace. One evening was spent mainly wandering through the historic centre, while on another day I devoted practically the entire day to the historic districts of Bari itself. And it was then that I started noticing that the city is far more complex than the images usually associated with it online might suggest.

Most tourists associate Bari almost exclusively with Bari Vecchia – the oldest part of the city located between the port and the sea. This is where the best-known landmarks are situated, including the Basilica of Saint Nicholas and the Norman-Swabian Castle. Narrow alleyways, stone walls, hanging laundry, and small squares really do create a very typical image of southern Italy. Even despite the large number of tourists, this part of the city occasionally feels almost medieval, particularly once you move away from the main walking routes.

The Norman-Swabian Castle of Bari turned out to be one of the most interesting places in the city. Since I have already described it in much greater detail elsewhere, I will only mention here that it is definitely worth visiting the interior rather than limiting yourself to viewing the walls from outside. The same applies to the Basilica of Saint Nicholas, which remains one of the most important religious sites in the entire region. It is here that the relics of Saint Nicholas were brought in the 11th century, making Bari an important pilgrimage destination and one of the key ports on the Adriatic for many centuries. At the time of my visit, the castle was undergoing renovation works, and one thing that also stood out was the relatively small number of exhibits inside. In practice, apart from the plaster cast gallery located on the ground floor, the interiors were quite empty. Nevertheless, the castle itself still makes a very strong impression. The castle was also closely connected with Bona Sforza, the Queen of Poland. It was here that she spent part of her life as Duchess of Bari before leaving for Kraków and marrying Sigismund I the Old, and she later returned to Bari during the final years of her life after leaving Poland. She was eventually buried in the Basilica of Saint Nicholas, where her sarcophagus can still be seen above the altar.

At the same time, Bari does not end with its medieval quarter. Between the main railway station and the seafront lies a completely different part of the historic city – more ordered, significantly wider, and filled with elegant townhouses and representative streets. This district, developed mainly during the 19th century, presents Bari not as a medieval port, but as a modern Italian city shaped during the period of Italian unification. The most characteristic features here are the broad avenues, particularly Corso Vittorio Emanuele II and Corso Cavour. The architecture of this part of the city feels far more monumental and organised than in Bari Vecchia. Townhouses dating from the 19th and early 20th centuries dominate the streetscape, often featuring neoclassical and eclectic elements. While walking through this part of Bari, I occasionally had the impression that I was in a completely different city from the one located only a few streets away.

And perhaps that contrast is what I remember most strongly. Bari is not merely a postcard-perfect medieval town designed purely for tourists. It is a large, living city with a very long history, which for centuries served as an important port and a meeting place of different cultures present around the Adriatic. You can see medieval, Norman, and Byzantine influences here, but also the 19th-century ambitions of a modern city.

The history of Bari is much older than it may initially appear while walking through the modern city. Thanks to its location on the Adriatic coast, the settlement developed as a port already in antiquity and from the beginning remained connected with maritime trade and contacts between the Italian Peninsula, the Balkans, and the eastern Mediterranean. During the Roman period, Bari, then known as Barium, became one of the more important ports in southern Italy, although for a long time it remained overshadowed by larger cities of the region.

Towards the end of the 4th century was the empire administratively divided into western and eastern parts. Because Bari was located within Italy, it became part of the Western Roman Empire. After its collapse in the 5th century, however, the political situation in southern Italy remained unstable for a very long time. The city repeatedly changed rulers and came under the influence of the Lombards, Byzantium, and for a certain period also the Arabs. The Byzantine period turned out to be particularly important because Bari became one of the main administrative centres of Byzantium in southern Italy. As a result, the city remained closely connected for centuries with the trade and culture of the eastern Mediterranean, maintaining contacts between Italy, the Balkans, and the Greek world.

In the 11th century, Bari was conquered by the Normans, who began extensive expansion of the fortifications and strengthened the city’s role as an important commercial and military port. Part of the oldest fabric of Bari Vecchia dates precisely from this period. At the same time, the arrival of the relics of Saint Nicholas from Myra in 1087 transformed the city’s position within medieval Europe, turning Bari into one of the most important pilgrimage destinations on the Adriatic. The Basilica of Saint Nicholas was built specifically to house these relics. Saint Nicholas himself is also a much more historically significant figure than modern popular culture might suggest today, when he is associated mainly with Christmas traditions. For centuries he was one of the most important saints in Christianity, particularly venerated in the Byzantine world and eastern Christianity. This is also why the basilica in Bari continues to hold major importance for both Catholics and Orthodox Christians.

The Normans created a powerful state that included Sicily and much of southern Italy. The last Norman heiress of this kingdom, Constance of Sicily, married Henry VI of the Hohenstaufen dynasty, the son of Emperor Frederick Barbarossa. Through this marriage, the Hohenstaufens gained rights to the Kingdom of Sicily and, after the death of the last Norman ruler, took control of the entire state, including Bari. Their son was Frederick II, who spent part of his childhood in southern Italy and became very strongly connected with the region. One of the most important rulers of medieval southern Italy, he expanded and rebuilt several fortifications across the region, including the castle in Bari and the famous Castel del Monte.

After the decline of the Hohenstaufen dynasty, Bari later became part of the Kingdom of Naples. The Kingdom of Naples was a historical state that controlled most of southern Italy for many centuries, with Naples serving as its capital. It emerged during the Middle Ages and existed in various forms until the 19th century, when Italy was unified into a single country. Over the centuries, the kingdom itself was ruled by different dynasties, including the Angevins, Aragonese, and later the Spanish Bourbons. The city was repeatedly rebuilt and fortified, while its strategic position ensured that it played an important commercial and military role.

In the 19th century, Bari began expanding rapidly beyond its medieval walls. New representative districts with broad streets and elegant architecture inspired by the urban planning of modern European cities started to appear. It was during this period that much of the present-day centre of Bari took shape, creating a very visible contrast with the dense and narrow streets of Bari Vecchia.

Today, Bari is one of the largest cities in southern Italy and the capital of the Apulia region. Walking between medieval Bari Vecchia and the 19th-century avenues of the newer districts, it becomes very easy to see how the city evolved over the centuries. For me, however, Bari turned out also to be a very convenient place from which to explore the wider region. You can easily spend several days here focusing entirely on the city itself, but Bari works equally well as a starting point for further journeys around Apulia. And perhaps it is precisely this combination – everyday urban life, a historic centre, and an excellent location – that makes Bari stay in your memory much longer than you might initially expect.

Bari. At the Crossroads of Apulia

Sassi di Matera. A City Shaped by Stone and Time

In today’s post I want to take you to a truly stunning place you may well recognise from the big screenMatera, a city in southern Italy’s Basilicata region. It’s been used as a film set for productions such as Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ and the James Bond film No Time to Die.

Matera spreads across a limestone plateau above the deep Gravina gorge, carved over thousands of years by the river of the same name. On one side, rugged hills and rocky slopes frame the view; on the other, sun-drenched plains typical of southern Italy stretch away into the distance. While much of modern Matera consists of newer buildings, its soul and greatest treasure is its historic heart – a place that feels like stepping into another world.

The historic district of Sassi di Matera is among the world’s oldest continuously inhabited settlements, with the first dwellings dating back as far as 9000 BC. Early settlers used natural caves in the soft limestone cliffs as shelters. The local limestone, known as tufo, is so soft that it can be carved with simple tools – perfect for hollowing out small cave homes.

As the community grew, people began joining single caves together, carving corridors and passages, enlarging chambers, and adding simple stone walls at the entrances to create façades. Typically, each of these early homes had a single front room and a series of chambers receding into the rock. The roof of one cave often became the terrace or floor of the next, creating the distinctive cascading look that still defines Matera today.

During the Middle Ages, as building techniques advanced, façades were reinforced and extended with dressed stone, and arches, vaults and retaining walls were added. Interiors were converted into proper homes, with extra floors and courtyards, and original rock walls were faced with stone to strengthen them. Over time, the line between built structure and natural cliff blurred – it’s often impossible to tell where the rock ends and the masonry begins. This organic process produced a unique architectural landscape: a labyrinth of rooms, passages and stairways embedded in the hillside.

One of the most extraordinary aspects of the Sassi is their historic water management system. Matera sits on a dry limestone plateau with no natural springs, so for centuries residents captured every drop of rain. Roofs and terraces were carved with grooves that channelled rainwater into rock-cut cisterns, reservoirs and underground canals. The settlement functioned like a vast rain-collecting machine – water cascading from the upper levels down into lower tanks. The largest cisterns were supported by stone pillars and vaulted ceilings, resembling underground cathedrals, and could store enough water to last for months.

Ventilation and daylight were equally cleverly managed. Because many rooms extend deep into the rock, they were designed with ventilation shafts, skylights and small openings to let in fresh air and natural light. This stopped damp and smoke from building up and kept the air circulating constantly.

Believe it or not, there are countless articles in international water research literature that explore how this city managed to collect and store its water. What’s more, when you visit Matera, you can even join a guided tour that takes you inside and shows exactly how this ingenious system once worked.

Over the centuries, as building methods improved and new districts developed higher up the hill, many residents left their cave homes behind for more modern dwellings. By the mid-20th century, only the poorest lived in the Sassi, often in dire conditions.

After the Second World War, the area was severely overcrowded. Whole families lived with their livestock in damp caves without sanitation, running water or electricity. Conditions were so appalling that in the 1950s the Italian government declared the Sassi a national disgrace (la vergogna nazionale) and relocated their inhabitants to newly built housing on the city’s outskirts.

For decades the Sassi lay abandoned and crumbling, until restoration efforts began in the 1980s. Painstaking and costly, this process eventually paid off — and in 1993, the Sassi di Matera were awarded UNESCO World Heritage status as a unique example of continuous human settlement from prehistoric times to the present.

Today, many former cave dwellings have been transformed into boutique hotels, art galleries, restaurants and small museums showing what everyday life in these cave homes once looked like. Many retain their original layout but are now styled with minimalist design and luxurious furnishings – combining rough limestone walls with sleek modern décor. You can even spend the night in some of these hotels: from the outside they look like ordinary stone houses, but inside they reveal extraordinary cave interiors now infused with comfort and elegance.

At this point I need to add a bit of a personal touch. Matera, in a way, was simply lucky – after years of abandonment, it was brought back to life and turned into a UNESCO-listed gem. As a teenager, I spent a few years in a country in North Africa on the edge of the desert where people once lived in cave homes carved into the mountains. They were forced out and given modern blocks instead, but many never adapted. I still have black-and-white photos (unfortunately not suitable to be digitalised) of those homes from over forty years ago — and with the conflict and war there now, they’re unlikely to ever become the kind of place international travellers could safely visit, explore and truly experience.

Matera’s historic heart is made up of three districts clinging to the same rocky slope. On one side is Sasso Barisano, on the other Sasso Caveoso, with Civita perched on the ridge between them, crowned by the city’s cathedral.

Sasso Barisano takes its name from nearby Bari, as it was historically the entrance to Matera from that direction. It has more buildings with conventional façades, narrow lanes, and even a road that cars can use. Sasso Caveoso lies on the opposite side of the ridge, lower down, and feels far more ancient – its dwellings are mostly carved directly into the rock, resembling the original cave homes. From Barisano you can’t even see this hidden district.

Between the two lies Civita, the rocky spine of the hill, topped by the cathedral which dominates the skyline and can be seen from miles around.

As we visited Matera, we came by car from Bari, so we naturally entered through Sasso Barisano. We didn’t have much time and we were travelling with a curious little two-year-old traveller, full of ambition yet still bound by her toddler limits. It was November, well after the main tourist season. Almost all houses and sites were closed, and the city felt still and hushed. And don’t be fooled by the fact that there’s no one in my photos — it was simply a time when the streets of Matera were completely empty.

We began our walk near the Church of Saint Augustine, perched on the edge of Sasso Barisano. From there we wound our way through the narrow lanes of Barisano, climbing ever higher until we reached Civita and the cathedral at its peak. We didn’t make it as far as Sasso Caveoso — that district lies lower down on the far side of the ridge and was beyond our reach this time.

In photos below you’ll mostly see Sasso Barisano and Civita, but if you look closely at the rocks across the gorge — and beneath the Church of Saint Augustine — you’ll spot openings in the cliff that look like the entrances to the most ancient and primitive cave dwellings.

The Sassi di Matera are not just picturesque houses revived for visitors — they are evidence of how human settlement adapts, collapses and gain new meaning over time. At times the attention can feel superficial, driven more by the setting than by the story behind it. Yet maybe that curiosity is not a bad thing. Even if we start by simply admiring how striking it looks, it can lead us to something deeper – to understanding how people once lived here, and how much history still echoes through these stones.

Sassi di Matera. A City Shaped by Stone and Time

Colosseum in Rome. A Place That Still Echoes With the Past

Today I’m writing about what is probably one of the most iconic ancient places in Europe. As strange as it may sound, I used to play among the ruins of Leptis Magna and Sabratha when I was a child, and ever since then, visiting historical places has really stayed with me. But when I finally stepped inside – on one of my many trips to Rome – walked through the passage under the arches and looked up, I actually got goosebumps.

The Colosseum in Rome, also known as the Flavian Amphitheatre (Amphitheatrum Flavium), is one of the most recognisable monuments of the ancient world and a lasting symbol of the power of Rome and the Roman Empire. From antiquity to the present day, it has survived in surprisingly good condition for its age – standing as a reminder not only of Roman engineering skill, but also of how power could be exercised through public entertainment.

Construction of the Colosseum began around AD 72, during the reign of Emperor Vespasian, the first ruler from the Flavian dynasty. He came to power after a series of violent assassinations and uprisings during the chaotic succession crisis that followed the death of Nero, who had been deeply unpopular with much of Roman society. Nero, the last emperor of the Julio-Claudian dynasty, ruled from AD 54 to 68 and is remembered as one of the most controversial leaders in Roman history. Though he started out with promise, he soon became a symbol of tyranny, driven by his artistic ambitions and obsession with control. His most notorious project was the Domus Aurea – the Golden House – a lavish palace built in the heart of Rome on land cleared by the great fire of AD 64. Whether he actually started the fire is still debated, but the image of an emperor playing the lyre while the city burned has remained firmly in the public imagination. Nero died by suicide in AD 68, leaving behind a city in turmoil and a legacy that later emperors were eager to leave behind.

In his efforts to restore authority and bring stability back to the empire, Vespasian made a number of decisions aimed at regaining the trust of Roman citizens. One of the most symbolic was the decision to build a massive public amphitheatre on the site of a former artificial lake that had been part of Nero’s Domus Aurea. This move carried strong propaganda value. Where once there had been a private garden of imperial luxury and excess, there was now to be an open space for public entertainment. Vespasian quite literally took the land back from Nero’s hated palace and handed it over to the people of Rome.

Vespasian died before the Colosseum was completed, and it was his son Titus who saw the project through to the end. Tens of thousands of people took part in the opening celebrations, which lasted an impressive 100 days. During that time, the public enjoyed gladiator fights, displays of wild animals, and staged battle re-enactments.

The Colosseum in Rome was mainly used for gladiator fights and wild animal shows, but also for public executions. In its early years, around AD 80–90, it is thought – though not historically confirmed – that it may have also hosted mock naval battles. At that time, the arena had no underground structures, which meant it could be flooded relatively easily with water.

The Colosseum in Rome was built in an elliptical shape, measuring about 189 metres long and 156 metres wide. The outer façade rose to a height of 48 metres. Its four storeys of arcaded walls were supported by a system of arches and pillars. The structure was made using stone, brick and concrete – materials that, in Roman times, represented the height of engineering and construction technology. The outer walls were built from large blocks of travertine, held together with iron clamps and lime mortar. The interior was filled with lighter materials: brick and what we now call Roman concrete (opus caementicium) – a mix of lime, water and volcanic ash (pozzolana), which made the structure remarkably strong and resistant to moisture. Thanks to this, the Colosseum has survived earthquakes, fires and nearly two thousand years of erosion. The use of arches and vaults helped to evenly distribute the weight of the building, allowing the Romans to create something spacious and monumental without needing internal supports.

The interior of the amphitheatre consisted of the arena, the seating area, and a complex underground system known as the hypogeum.

The arena of the Colosseum was the heart of the whole structure – an elliptical, flat surface measuring about 87 by 55 metres, covered in sand (called harena, which is where the word arena comes from). The sand was used to soak up blood and make it easier for fighters to move. Underneath was the hypogeum, now exposed but once hidden beneath a wooden platform. This surface was often decorated with artificial trees, rocks, columns or ruins to create the right setting for the shows. For specific events, the look of the arena could be completely changed overnight, which shows how efficient and well-organised the technical and backstage teams must have been.

Surrounding the arena was the seating area, or cavea, which could hold between 50 and 60 thousand spectators. The seats were arranged in tiered levels, reflecting the strict social hierarchy of ancient Rome. Closest to the arena were the boxes reserved for senators and elites, who sat on marble benches with their names engraved. Behind them sat the equites, a wealthy social class just below the senators, and above them, the ordinary citizens. The top tier was set aside for women, slaves and the poor. Each section had its own entrances and corridors – called vomitoria – which allowed tens of thousands of people to enter and exit the amphitheatre within minutes. The seating was designed with impressive acoustic and visual precision, so that every spectator, no matter where they sat, could clearly see and hear what was happening in the arena.

The two-level hypogeum was added to the Colosseum during the reign of Emperor Domitian – the same one the Senate later tried to erase from memory for his tyranny. It served as the technical and logistical backstage for organising the shows. The underground area included corridors, holding cells for gladiators, enclosures for wild animals, storage rooms, workshops, and a system of lifts and ramps that allowed for fast and dramatic entrances onto the arena floor. The hypogeum stretched beneath the entire arena and included around 30 lifts, operated manually by teams of workers and slaves using a complex system of pulleys, ropes and counterweights. These lifts connected to trapdoors or cunei which could suddenly open at arena level, allowing animals or fighters to appear in a striking and theatrical way.

Above the entire amphitheatre stretched a massive sail-like canopy known as the velarium, which provided shade for the audience on sunny days. It was operated by sailors from the Roman navy, who used a complex system of ropes and rigging anchored to the outer pillars of the building.

Gladiators were among the most recognisable figures of ancient Rome, and their presence in the arena was central to the spectacular shows staged for the crowds. Although often associated with violence and blood, they were also highly trained fighters whose lives were shaped by discipline and combat. They were not ordinary soldiers or random slaves – they were people who spent months, sometimes years, in training, living under strict rules imposed by the owners of gladiator schools.

Most gladiators were slaves, either sold into combat or captured and then placed in special training centres known as ludi. There, under the guidance of experienced instructors – often former gladiators themselves – they learned fighting techniques, how to handle different weapons, and how to behave in the arena. Their goal wasn’t just to survive, but to put on a show, gain the crowd’s approval, and increase their value. But not all gladiators were slaves. Some were free men who volunteered. Their reasons varied – fame, debt, desperation, or even fascination with the life of a fighter. These volunteers signed contracts in which they gave up their citizen rights for the duration of their service, becoming the legal property of the training school’s owner.

Gladiator fights followed strict rules. Opponents were not paired at random – different fighting styles and weapons were matched to create a show full of tension and drama. For example, a lightly armed and fast fighter with a trident and net might face a heavily armoured opponent with a large shield and sword. Their clashes were almost like theatrical duels, where not just strength and technique, but also strategy and an understanding of the opponent’s weaknesses, played a key role. Gladiators were categorised by their weapons and fighting style, and each type had its own name, equipment and way of moving in combat.

Although the fights were brutal and carried a real risk of death, they didn’t always end with one of the fighters being killed. Gladiators were expensive to train and maintain, so organisers were reluctant to let them die without a clear reason. Often, the decision about a defeated fighter’s fate was made by the person in charge of the show, based on the crowd’s reaction, how the fight went, or even financial concerns. A loser who fought bravely and with honour could be spared and sent back to training. Gladiators who became popular could enjoy a level of fame – they were tattooed, painted on pottery, mentioned in inscriptions, and sometimes treated like celebrities. In some cases, they even gained their freedom after many victories, or by receiving a symbolic wooden sword called a rudis, which marked the end of their service.

Public executions were a regular part of the games held at the Colosseum in Rome, although they were often overshadowed by the more spectacular gladiator fights or animal shows. But these executions were not only about punishment. They were also seen as a form of entertainment, often staged in a theatrical way that combined death with performance. The brutality of these executions was not accidental – it was meant to show the power of the state and the strictness of Roman law towards those who broke it. At the same time, it reinforced the idea of Roman order, where punishment was quick, unavoidable, and made into a spectacle.

Those most often sentenced were common criminals, slaves, and prisoners of war – especially those not considered worthy of fighting as gladiators. One of the most brutal and humiliating forms of execution was damnatio ad bestias, or condemnation to the beasts – the victim was sent out, unarmed, into the arena where lions, tigers, leopards or bears were waiting. Sometimes, to make the scene more dramatic, the condemned were dressed up or the execution was staged to imitate mythological stories. In such cases, death became a performance – someone might be made to play Orpheus, torn apart by wild animals, or Icarus, falling from the sky, only to die for real.

Another method of execution was beheading, crucifixion, or burning alive. These forms were less theatrical, so they usually took place outside the Colosseum in Rome, but during larger celebrations they were sometimes included in the arena programme. Some games also featured mass executions -especially after wars or uprisings – as a show of power aimed at rebels or conquered peoples. On some occasions, thousands of people were killed in a single day.

From the Middle Ages onwards – and especially during the Baroque period – Christian tradition began to associate the Colosseum with the martyrdom of the early followers of Christ. Stories started to circulate about Christians being thrown to the lions right there. By the 19th century, the Colosseum had become a symbol of Christian suffering, particularly for the Catholic Church. Popes began holding Stations of the Cross there, and in 1749, Pope Benedict XIV consecrated the site by placing a cross in the centre of the arena. This Christian narrative carries religious and cultural meaning, even though it doesn’t fully align with historical evidence. Today, most historians agree that Christians may have been executed in the Colosseum in Rome, but there is no proof that it was a place specifically used for their persecution, or that mass, systematic executions of Christians happened there.

After the fall of the Western Roman Empire in 476 AD, the Colosseum gradually stopped serving its original purpose and began to fall into ruin. Parts of the structure collapsed during earthquakes -especially in 847 and 1349 – and over the centuries, stone from its walls was taken for use in other buildings across Rome. Still, despite the damage, the Colosseum was never completely abandoned. In fact, over time it was given new roles. As early as the early Middle Ages, it was used as living space, workshops, and even for religious purposes.

Small chapels and even tiny churches were built inside the Colosseum in Rome. In the 11th century, a chapel dedicated to Saint Mary of the Martyrs was built within the structure. It was linked to the memory of Christian martyrs, although as said before there is no clear historical evidence to confirm that connection. In the 15th century, more chapels appeared, often sponsored by craft guilds and religious brotherhoods. One of them was built by the Archconfraternity of the Holy Cross, which held prayers and penitential processions inside the Colosseum. In the 18th century, a cross was placed inside the arena, and a Way of the Cross was created – some of its stations still survive today as part of the site’s religious symbolism.

It wasn’t until the Renaissance that people began to recognise the historical and artistic value of the Colosseum in Rome as a relic of ancient times. Artists, scholars, and architects started to see the ruins not just as a convenient source of stone, but as a reminder of Rome’s former glory. Still, for a long time, dismantling the structure remained common practice – huge travertine blocks from the Colosseum were used in the construction of Renaissance palaces and churches, including the Palazzo Venezia and St Peter’s Basilica. Even in the 16th century, popes – though increasingly aware of its symbolic meaning – still allowed it to be used as a quarry. This attitude began to change gradually, as interest in antiquity grew and historical and archaeological studies developed. In the 18th century, Pope Benedict XIV declared the Colosseum a place of Christian martyrdom and consecrated it by placing a cross inside. From then on, the building was treated as sacred ground, which helped protect it from further destruction.

In the 19th century, with the rise of modern archaeology, the Colosseum became the focus of serious scientific study. Archaeologists, architects, and engineers began systematic measurements, excavations, and restoration work. Rubble was cleared, damaged walls were stabilised, and the underground structures were documented and analysed. This period saw the creation of the first modern records of the Colosseum as a site of cultural heritage. Even today, the Colosseum still holds many secrets. The hypogeum, the network of underground passages, had been buried and inaccessible for centuries. Thanks to modern technologies such as laser scanning and 3D photogrammetry, archaeologists are now uncovering new details about how shows were organised and how the arena functioned behind the scenes. Ongoing research is also revealing fragments of wall paintings, inscriptions, and graffiti, which help us understand the everyday life of the people who worked there. Some elements, like the elevators or water systems, still aren’t fully understood, leaving room for further discovery and interpretation.

Today, the Colosseum in Rome is one of the most visited landmarks in Italy, attracting millions of tourists each year. It’s also one of the most important UNESCO World Heritage Sites. At the same time, it remains a focus of ongoing conservation and restoration efforts, aimed at protecting it from further damage. The Colosseum still plays a role in cultural and religious life. Every Good Friday, the Pope leads the Stations of the Cross here, turning the ancient arena into a place of reflection and ceremony. For centuries, the site has also inspired artists, writers, and filmmakers. It features in classic films such as Quo Vadis?, Ben-Hur, and Gladiator, which helped shape its image as a place of epic battles and sacrifice. In literature and popular culture, it often appears as a symbol of both Roman glory and cruelty.

Colosseum in Rome. A Place That Still Echoes With the Past