As every good student of Cicero knows, Rome sits on seven hills: The Palatine, the Capitoline, the Esquiline, the Aventine, the Quirinal, the Viminal, and finally the…the um…well, that other one.
The Caelian hill is, for some reason, the ugly duckling of the seven siblings as far as the casual tourist is concerned. Major guidebooks tend to overlook the astounding relics and ruins of this underrated neighborhood.
After snapping the requisite photo of the Colosseum, arms around a gladiator-impersonator, most foreigners make an about face and return westward through the Roman Forum, toward Piazza Venezia, the Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon and on to St. Peter’s Basilica.
Little do they know they are turning their backs on at least three of the most significant Classical sites in the city, and several of its most intriguing churches, for the most part all buried underground and all within 20 minutes walking distance in the afternoon shadow of the Colosseum.
It’s not entirely their fault. Some of these attractions are not yet household names. Only in the past decade have two of the city’s most impressive ruins been opened completely to the public after their discovery, excavation and subsequent restorations: the Domus Aurea (Emperor Nero’s “Golden House”) and the Roman Houses, a subterranean series of patrician dwellings caked in ancient frescoes.
The part of the Domus Aurea now open to tourists is actually on the south slope of the Esquiline hill, just next to the Colosseum. It is rumored to spread for some 300 acres, occupying part of the Caelian as well.
Nero was a peculiar character, to put it mildly (he did after all murder his mother), and after Rome burned in 69 A.D. he had a little more free real estate on which to build his labyrinth of a palace with such extravagant features as a dining room with a revolving ceiling, powered by slaves. The dozens of rooms are covered with frescoes painted by artists who would give birth to the “grotesque” school, so-named because of these painters' habit of painting in such grottoes as the ones in the Domus Aurea. A grand hall overlooked a marsh and lake that would soon become the world’s largest gladiatorial amphitheater.
[A bit of trivia I learned on a recent tour of the Caelian: Lots of ancient arenas in Italy and Greece are mistakenly referred to as “amphitheaters,” specifically, those in a semicircular shape with a stage at one end. Those are simply “theaters.” If you want to add the prefix “amphi,” meaning “two” or “both,” the place must be a theater-in-the-round, such as a coliseum, which are great for gladiatorial fights and other sporting events; for Greek tragedies, not so much.]
Now entirely underground, but mostly spared from the damaging effects of groundwater thanks to the centuries of stuff built on top of it, the Domus Aurea is, again, undergoing a renovation and can be seen only by appointment.
Walking down the slope, just at the east end of the Colosseum and toward the Caelian Hill, you can’t help but notice a large hole in the ground holding some indiscernible Roman brick buildings. These ancient chambers, usually greeted with only a quick glance by passers-by, are actually the cells that held gladiator slaves, who, on fight days, were led through a passage toward the Collosseum across the street. Although not much remains of what were probably pretty sparse quarters to begin with, it’s still an eye-opener into the lives of these prisoner-warriors.
Take a left on Via San Giovanni in Laterano (leading eventually to the papal basilica of the same name) and after two blocks you’ll notice what appears to be a modest church on your left. In fact, San Clemente is anything but modest. As soon as you walk in the entrance you’ll find a priceless fresco of St. Christopher, painted by Masaccio, on your right. The mosaic floor, made from shards of several different colors of marble, are worth the visit in and of themselves. Romans can stare at the floor and marvel at the extent of their empire, pointing out pieces of rock from North Africa, Asia Minor, and far-flung quarries around Europe. The result is a beautiful work of art.
But the Basilica of San Clemente is best known for what you see underneath it while walking down the stairs into ancient history: a sixth-century church, which in turn was built on top of a first-century home belonging to a Roman nobleman who was one of the first converts to Christianity, and allowed his fellow persecuted believers to worship there. As you descend into the crypts, you’ll also notice the tombs of Saints Cyril and Methodius, who brought Christianity to the Slavs, and the consequently the founders of what became known as the Cyrillic alphabet.
From San Clemente, walk up the Caelian hill past another beautiful church, Santi Quattro Coronati, with its lovely, peaceful cloisters. Continue over the cypress-filled summit to a the church of Santi Giovanni e Paolo, under which lie some of the most intriguing and underrated pieces of excavated history in Rome.
The Case Romane, or Roman Houses, opened to the public in 2002, almost a century after they were first discovered by a monk who was digging beneath the church, where he found a maze-like group of richly decorated rooms. Only a handful of tourists seem to know about them, or care, which makes the visit that much more enjoyable. You almost have the place to yourself as you wander from one underground home to another. The vibrant colors of the frescos and the excellent condition of the restored walls make it seem as if these houses were abandoned only yesterday.
There are few, if any, other places in Europe that can offer you that kind of glimpse inside the daily life of ancient Rome, and all you have to do find it is take a quick walk past the Collosseum, and up a quiet hill.
John Moretti is a freelance travel writer who divides his time between Europe, Florida and Vermont. He is the author of "Living Abroad in Italy" (Avalon, 2004) as well as a number of guidebooks. He writes about European sports and culture for the New York Sun.
Read John’s column twice weekly in Travel.gather.com sponsored by Expedia.com


Comments: 4
Thanks for the reminder!!!
There are a number of seeming onverlooked churches through old Rome, and I'm gonna have to go back now to look at the ones you've mentioned.
Excellent article