Yes, you read that right — today we’re visiting two extremes: one of Rome’s most modern districts and one of its oldest sites. They’re worlds apart, yet equally fascinating.
Ostia Antica
Ostia Antica is just over an hour from Rome. We met our classmates at Piazzale Ostiense, right outside the Piramide metro stop. From there, we hopped on the Roma–Lido line at Porta San Paolo station and rode it all the way to our destination.
At the mouth of the Tiber River lie the ruins of the ancient port city of Ostia Antica. Founded by King Ancus Marcius in the 7th century BC, some of its remains date back to the 4th century BC. Fun fact for language lovers: ostium means “river mouth” in Latin.
The weather was perfect, and we wandered through a maze of ancient streets, mosaics, and buildings. Ostia Antica isn’t as famous as Pompeii, but it’s absolutely worth a visit.
Walking down the cobbled Decumanus Maximus, the city’s main street, we explored houses, taverns, temples, and more. The Baths of Neptune once connected Decumanus with another portico, and in their day they must have been spectacular. Emperor Hadrian had them rebuilt at the end of the 1st century BC.
Further along, we came to the theater, which could seat over 3,000 people. It wasn’t just a place for entertainment — it also hosted commercial transactions. Next to it, some incredible mosaics depicting ships and warriors have survived in stunning condition.
Back in its heyday, Ostia connected the Tiber to Rome, which fueled thriving businesses — like a tavern we saw that once served fish.
My favorite spot? The Domus di Amore e Psiche, a traditional Roman house where we found a beautiful statue of the mythic lovers.
Ostia was abandoned after the fall of the Roman Empire, slowly buried by sand as the coastline shifted. Ironically, that sand preserved it, making it one of archaeology’s great treasures.
Just before the archaeological park entrance, there’s a fortified gate leading into the tiny medieval village of Ostia Antica — charming, picturesque, and perfect for a short stroll. On the day we visited, the village was in full celebration, with locals dressed in medieval costumes. It was magical.
EUR
From ancient history, we jumped forward to the 20th century. The EUR district was built for the 1942 World’s Fair — which never actually happened — and its name stands for Esposizione Universale Roma. You can get there easily by metro or bus.
We met at the EUR Palasport station, right in front of the Parco Centrale del Lago – Giardino delle Cascate. It was another gorgeous day, perfect for exploring.
With our classmates and my tireless travel buddy Anna, we strolled through the park, passing tranquil lakes and shaded paths. In one corner, we stumbled upon the Pinocchio playground, complete with a giant whale and whimsical attractions that light up with water effects after dark.
Of course, no city park is complete without a group practicing Tai Chi (tell me that doesn’t feel like a scene straight out of a movie). In another area, we watched a match of canoe polo — imagine basketball meets kayaking. It was the first time I’d seen it, and it looked like a blast.
From there, we climbed to the district’s highest point to see the Basilica dei Santi Pietro e Paolo, a strikingly modern church consecrated in 1966.
Perhaps the most impressive building in this district is the one popularly known as the “Square Colosseum,” officially the Palace of Italian Civilization. Its perfectly symmetrical arches and white façade make it an icon of rationalist architecture and one of EUR’s most recognizable landmarks.
Back on the main avenue, grand buildings rose around us, inspired by ancient Roman architecture — massive columns, sweeping hemicycles, and a central roundabout crowned with an obelisk.
At the Convention Center, a motorcycle show was in full swing — the Eternal City Motorcycle Show. We lingered to admire some of the bikes before giving in to hunger, grabbing something to eat, and heading home.
A Literary Note
Before I wrap up, I have to mention the second book I’ve read in Italian: Novecento by the wonderful Alessandro Baricco. It’s a one-man monologue in which the narrator meets Novecento at age 27. Born aboard the transatlantic ship Virginian, Novecento was adopted by a sailor who died when the boy was eight. He vanished — until one day he was found at the ship’s piano.
A natural musical genius, Novecento spent his life between the keys and the sea, never setting foot on land. Through the stories of others, he wove vivid tales of great cities and far-off dreamlands he would never see himself.
