Apollonia

Listen first. Wind moves through the olive trees, and somewhere below the hill a sheep bell rings. Underfoot, the path is a mix of dry earth and worn stone. Ahead, a row of pale columns stands against the sky. Around you, the flat green plain of Myzeqe runs west toward the Adriatic. This quiet hilltop near Fier was once one of the most important cities on this coast. Its name was Apollonia, after the god Apollo.

The city began around 600 BCE. Greek colonists came from Corinth, a powerful city in southern Greece, and from Corcyra, the island we now call Corfu. They chose this hill for good reasons. It gave them a clear view over the plain, fresh water, and access to a river that led to the sea. The land around them belonged to Illyrian tribes, the ancient peoples of this region. Trade with them shaped the city from the start.

In ancient times, the coastline was closer than it is today. The Aoos river, now called the Vjosa, flowed near the city and gave it a working harbour. Ships carried wine, oil, pottery, and grain. Apollonia minted its own coins, and they travelled widely across the Balkans. That tells us something simple. This was not a small outpost. It was a trading city with real wealth, and its merchants reached far inland along the routes that later became Roman roads.

Here is a detail that surprises many visitors. In 44 BCE, a young man named Octavius was studying here. He was the great-nephew of Julius Caesar. Ancient writers record that news of Caesar's murder reached him in Apollonia. He left for Italy soon after. Within a few years, he became Octavian, and later Augustus, the first Roman emperor. One of history's great turning points began with a message delivered to this hilltop.

Why would a Roman heir study in Albania? Because Apollonia had a reputation as a place of learning. Wealthy Roman families sent their sons here to study Greek language, philosophy, and rhetoric, the art of public speaking. The city sat on the Roman world's doorstep to Greece. Under Rome, Apollonia grew larger and richer. Many of the buildings you see today belong to this Roman period, built over and beside the older Greek city.

Now look at the structure with the tall columns. Archaeologists call it the Monument of the Agonothetes, or the Bouleuterion. The agonothetes were officials who organised public games and festivals. The building dates to the second century of our era. Its front has been partly rebuilt, with Corinthian columns, the style topped by carved acanthus leaves. Stand at the bottom of its steps and look up. The scale gives a clear sense of civic pride.

Nearby is the small odeon, a semicircle of stone seats. An odeon was a covered or semi-covered hall for music, poetry, and speeches. It is much smaller than a full theatre. Sit on one of the rows for a moment. The curve of the seats focuses sound toward the centre. If a friend speaks from the front, you will hear how well the space carries a voice, even after so many centuries.

Walk along the long wall with a row of arched niches. This was part of a stoa, a covered walkway where people met, traded, and talked in the shade. The niches once held statues. Today they stand empty, and swallows often nest in the stone. Run your eye along the line of arches. The rhythm of the repeated shapes was a deliberate design choice. It made a long wall feel ordered and calm.

So what happened to the city? The answer lies partly in the ground beneath you. In the third century of our era, an earthquake struck the region. Over time, the river shifted its course away from the city. The harbour filled with silt, and swampland spread across the plain. Without a working port, trade moved elsewhere. Disease from the marshes made life harder. Slowly, Apollonia shrank, and later the hill was largely abandoned.

Above the ruins, you will find the Monastery of Saint Mary. Its church is Byzantine, from the medieval period, and much of it was built with stone taken from the ancient city. Look closely at the walls. You may spot pieces of carved Roman stone set into the masonry. Inside the church, the paintings and the small cloister give a quiet contrast to the open ruins. The monastery complex also holds the site's archaeological museum.

The museum is worth your time. It shows statues, inscriptions, pottery, and everyday objects found on the hill. Seeing a carved face up close brings the city's people into focus. Many finds from Apollonia are also held in Tirana's National History Museum. Excavations here have continued for about a century. French archaeologists worked on the site in the early twentieth century, and Albanian and international teams have continued the work since then.

Here is the second surprise. Most of Apollonia is still underground. What you see is only a small part of the ancient city. The full circuit of its walls ran for several kilometres around the hills. Beneath the fields and olive groves lie houses, streets, and temples that no one has uncovered yet. As you walk, notice the low mounds and scattered stones in the grass. Each one may mark a building still waiting.

Before you leave, pause at the edge of the hill. Look west across the plain where the harbour once lay. Today there are fields, farm roads, and the line of the village of Pojan below. Listen again to the wind and the bells. Feel the warm stone under your hand. The columns behind you saw Greek traders, Roman students, and medieval monks. Now they watch you, walking back down the same hill.