It was built around 238 AD in Thysdrus, a wealthy town in Roman Africa that grew rich on olive oil. It's the third-largest Roman amphitheatre ever built and could seat about 35,000 spectators. Construction may never have been fully finished, since it got caught up in the turmoil of the Year of the Six Emperors, which began in Thysdrus itself.

Much of the outer wall still stands three storeys high, and the tunnels under the arena are still there too. It's been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1979, and you can usually walk around it with only a handful of other visitors.

Has anyone here been?

The Library of Celsus in Ephesus, Turkey, was built between 110–135 CE as a monumental public library and a mausoleum for Roman senator Tiberius Julius Celsus Polemaeanus.

Ranking as the third-largest library in the ancient Roman world, the structure uniquely housed up to 16,000 scrolls while protecting them from moisture via an advanced double-wall climate control design.

Though a fire destroyed its interior in 262 CE and earthquakes later leveled its walls, a meticulous archaeological restoration in the 1970s rebuilt its iconic, two-story marble façade, which stands today as a premier masterpiece of Roman architecture.

Trajan founded the city as a colony for his veterans. They laid it out in a perfect grid. The Arch of Trajan marks the entrance. Most of the streets and houses are still marked out in the sand.

The Romans built the street and the buildings here. The modern city sits on top. They left the excavation open so you can see the old pavement and walls from the bridge above.

The Pantheon is best known as a temple (and later a church), but it also served as a place of justice. Cassius Dio records that Hadrian held court there, seated on a tribunal so the proceedings remained public. He did the same in the palace, the Forum, and other locations depending on the case.

It’s not the everyday civil court building (that was more the Basilica Julia), but it is a documented spot where the emperor personally administered justice inside one of the most famous surviving Roman structures.

In AD 117, the Roman Empire reached its greatest territorial extent. Its armies had conquered Dacia, captured the Parthian capital of Ctesiphon, and advanced as far as the Persian Gulf. Rome had never controlled so much territory, and the emperor responsible for this extraordinary expansion was Trajan, remembered by later generations as Optimus Princeps — the Best Ruler.

But there was a problem. Much of what Trajan had conquered in the East was already slipping from Roman control.

Trajan had launched his eastern campaign in AD 114, partly over the long-running dispute with Parthia concerning Armenia, a kingdom caught between the two great powers. His armies advanced rapidly, capturing important cities and pushing deep into enemy territory. In AD 116, Ctesiphon fell, and Trajan reached the Persian Gulf. It was a spectacular military achievement, but capturing cities was one thing. Holding an enormous territory thousands of kilometres from Rome was another.

Revolts broke out across the newly conquered regions. The Parthian Empire had not been permanently destroyed, and the fortified city of Hatra resisted Roman attacks. The further Roman forces advanced, the more difficult it became to maintain control over the lands behind them. Trajan had expanded Rome’s borders, but he had not secured all the territory within them.

Then, in AD 117, Trajan fell ill and died while returning toward Italy. His successor, Hadrian, inherited an empire at its greatest extent — and a difficult strategic problem.

Hadrian chose to abandon most of Trajan’s recent eastern conquests. Armenia returned to a position of greater independence, and Rome withdrew from much of Mesopotamia. The decision marked a clear reversal of Trajan’s ambitions, but it was not necessarily an admission that the entire campaign had been pointless. Hadrian was prioritising defensible frontiers and the long-term security of the provinces Rome could realistically maintain.

After all, an army could defeat an enemy in battle without creating the conditions necessary to govern the conquered population. Every new province required soldiers, supplies, administration and money. The farther Rome expanded, the more resources it needed simply to maintain its new borders.

Yet Trajan’s reputation remained remarkably strong. He had not only conquered Dacia and expanded Roman power in the East; he had also sponsored major building projects and cultivated an image of a ruler who worked with the Senate and served the state. His successor’s retreat from the East did not erase those achievements. Dacia, for example, remained part of the Roman Empire for well over a century after Trajan’s death.

This is what makes Trajan’s reign so fascinating. He is remembered as the emperor who brought Rome to its greatest territorial extent, but some of his most ambitious conquests proved temporary. Hadrian’s decision to withdraw raises a question that every great empire eventually had to confront: is it better to control more territory, or to secure what you already possess?

Trajan’s story does not necessarily prove that he was an overrated emperor. His eastern campaign was only one part of a long and consequential reign. But it does remind us that military success and lasting political success are not always the same thing.

Rome reached its greatest size under Trajan. Under Hadrian, it began to accept that the greatest empire was not necessarily the one that kept expanding.

Was Diocletian’s Palace really a retirement home—or was it hiding a much more unusual purpose? 🏛️

When Roman Emperor Diocletian gave up the throne in 305 AD, he withdrew to an enormous fortified palace on the Dalmatian coast. But behind its monumental walls, temples, and imperial mausoleum lies a fascinating mystery: could part of the complex have been used as a Roman state textile factory?

The theory draws on historical records and archaeological clues, but the evidence remains debated. More than 1,700 years later, this extraordinary complex still raises questions about how Rome’s retired emperor actually lived—and what happened behind its walls.

What do you think: imperial retirement residence, industrial complex, or a combination of both?

Leptis Magna began as a Phoenician trading port, then grew into a major Roman city.

It was the birthplace of Septimius Severus, who became emperor in 193 AD and lavished the city with monuments, including a grand new forum, a basilica, and a colonnaded street.

Much of it was buried by sand for centuries, which helped preserve it. It's far less visited than Italy's big sites, so it rarely gets the attention it deserves.

What's your favorite lesser-known Roman site?

On March 15, 44 BC, a group of Roman senators assassinated Julius Caesar. They claimed they were saving the Roman Republic from a man who wanted to become king.

But Caesar had also won the loyalty of soldiers, gained enormous popularity among ordinary Romans, and introduced reforms that benefited many people. His enemies feared that his growing power would destroy the Republic.

Here is the dilemma: if you had been a Roman senator, knowing that Caesar was becoming too powerful but that killing him could plunge Rome into chaos, what would you have done?

Would you have joined the conspirators, supported Caesar, or tried to stop him another way? And why?

The Romans built a house or bath here. The floor stayed under the street. They cut a hole so you can see the mosaic from the pavement. The pattern is still clear.