Next Stop: Ancient Thessaloniki – Greece Is
“Each station will be a museum. This will make the Thessaloniki Metro unique, unlike any other rail system in the world,” proclaimed representatives of the metro’s construction company in 2006, as they signed a memorandum of cooperation with the Greek Ministry of Culture at the Archaeological Museum of Thessaloniki. Both sides were well aware that the excavations would dig deep into the very bedrock of the city’s rich history, uncovering treasures that lay buried beneath the streets. Archaeologists had already pointed out that the metro’s proposed route lined up with the archaeological layers of a city that had been continuously inhabited since its founding in 316/315 BC. The only real question was what surprises the excavations would reveal.
Last weekend, during the inauguration, a diverse crowd flooded the platforms, taking part in a quiet celebration. There was no music, no fanfare – only an otherworldly, almost ceremonial atmosphere. Smiling faces, exclamations of wonder from young and old alike, and raised phones that captured the novel experience of traversing their city in just a few minutes. The destination wasn’t just the metro itself – though it promised to transform their daily lives – but also the city beneath the city: the open museums. “I don’t see any ancient artifacts here. Let’s go to the station that looks like a museum,” said a young man to his friends as they descended the escalator at University Station. It seems that Venizelou has already become a destination in its own right.
Eighteen years after that memorandum was signed, we embarked on the journey through these “open museums.” With the exception of the encapsulated urban block at Venizelou Station and the open archaeological space at Aghia Sophia Station, 21 movable artifacts – out of the 300,000 unearthed during the metro’s excavations – are on display in the ticketing areas of three of the line’s 13 stations (Syntrivani, Aghia Sophia, Dimokratias).
While these modest exhibits don’t yet form complete “museums,” the information about the ancient city within the walls – bounded by its two gates, east (Syntrivani) and west (Dimokratias Square) – is dense. Concise, well-structured texts, along with numerous photographs of the excavation sites, offer a window into Thessaloniki’s history, emphasizing its 24 centuries of continuous habitation, the landscape at each station, the timeless Egnatia Road, and the city’s urban evolution from its founding in 316 BC until the Great Fire of 1917.
At Syntrivani Station, fragments of mosaic floors and wall paintings from a cemetery basilica (400–500 AD), alongside four intricately sculpted marble sarcophagi (100–300 AD), offer a glimpse into the opulent tombs of the eastern cemetery during the Hellenistic and Roman periods. These exhibits also shed light on the Christianization of the necropolis, marked by the construction of a worship site later replaced by a three-aisle basilica.
At Aghia Sophia Station, a display of seemingly modest yet invaluable artifacts provides insight into the area’s microhistory. Fragments of oil lamps, amphorae, vessels, glass, and metal objects – spanning the Hellenistic, Roman, Byzantine, and Ottoman periods – alongside items buried in the ashes of the Great Fire of 1917, vividly depict the city’s stratigraphy from its founding.
Beneath the canopy of Aghia Sophia Station’s outdoor archaeological space, visitors are transported to imperial Thessaloniki, a symbolic site flanked by two significant Christian basilicas: the Acheiropoietos and the five-aisle episcopal church, located on the site of the Church of the Wisdom of God (Aghia Sophia). This timeless crossroads formed by the Decumanus Maximus (the principal avenue of late antiquity and Byzantine times) and the cardo (a perpendicular road), part of a 6th-century urban planning initiative, was the center of the city’s political and religious life.
Visitors are guided through the preserved architectural remains of late antiquity and the Byzantine period, with illustrated maps, descriptive texts, and Braille guides that provide detail into the historical and architectural context of both sides of the modern Egnatia Street.
At Dimokratias Station, thirteen intact amphorae – once used for storing and transporting wine – are neatly stacked on a bench within an open-air ecclesiastical complex (450 AD), recreating the bustling commercial landscape of late antiquity (modern-day Vardaris). State warehouses for wine and oil, alongside workshops such as oil presses, lined the roads connecting the countryside to the Golden Gate. Nearby, a striking marble sarcophagus (200–300 AD) from the western cemetery catches the eye. Its engraved inscription reveals that a prominent citizen, Calpurnius Eudemos, built the sarcophagus for his “beloved” deceased wife, offering a poignant glimpse into the personal lives of Thessaloniki’s ancient inhabitants.
But it is Venizelou Station that remains the highlight for most visitors. Covering 1,300 square meters, this monumental urban complex showcases the city’s continuity across centuries. Visitors can explore the site from glass balconies, read about its historical transformations on touchscreens and watch videos and 3D visualizations of Thessaloniki through the ages. Starting in January, organized tours will allow visitors to walk along the monumental road, tracing the evolution of public spaces and admiring structures such as the tetrapylon (a monumental arch at the intersection of the Decumanus maximus) and its semicircular plaza. The workshops and shops of the Byzantine market – where East and West once converged – reflect the city’s enduring commercial vitality, which continues to the present day.
This article was previously published in Greek at kathimieri.gr
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