Hidden Gems & Local Secrets in Ravenna

The creation of this grand basilica is tied to a dramatic tale of survival. Empress Galla Placidia, one of the most powerful women in the history of the late Roman Empire, was caught in a terrifying sea storm while travelling from Constantinople to Ravenna. Facing certain death, she made a desperate vow to Saint John the Evangelist, promising to build a magnificent church in his honour if she and her family survived. The waves subsided, and true to her word, she ordered the construction of this monumental edifice upon her safe arrival. Over the ensuing centuries, the church witnessed profound changes and suffered significant losses. It was heavily modified, its glorious original mosaics lost to time and architectural whims. A remarkable discovery was made much later when bizarre, highly unusual floor mosaics from the thirteenth century were uncovered, illustrating fantastic creatures, unicorns, and scenes from the Fourth Crusade. These charmingly crude mosaics offer a stark, fascinating contrast to the refined Byzantine art found elsewhere in the city. The basilica faced its darkest hour in the summer of 1944 when it was struck by devastating Allied bombings, reducing much of the ancient structure to rubble. The post war restoration was a massive undertaking, painstakingly rebuilding the nave and stripping away later Baroque additions to return the church to its original, austere Romanesque appearance. Today, the mounted fragments of the medieval floor mosaics stand as a testament to the building's incredible resilience.

The origins of this hidden sanctuary are rooted in the immense wealth and ambition of the Rasponi family, who dominated local politics for centuries. In the late eighteenth century, they commissioned a grand palazzo to display their power, including a private family crypt. Intriguingly, despite the beautiful mosaic floor installed in the crypt, no member of the family was ever actually laid to rest here. It remained an elegant, empty shell beneath the grand halls of their estate. The real magic of the site was revealed later when the elevated areas above the crypt were transformed into a spectacular hanging garden. This lush oasis, suspended above the bustling streets, provided a secretive, heavily romantic retreat for the nobility. It features an ornate neo-gothic fountain, lush climbing vines, and perfectly framed views of the adjacent Basilica of San Francesco. While the main palazzo underwent various changes and eventually became the seat of the provincial government, this small, magical corner was preserved. Today, it remains one of the city's most delightful surprises. Visitors stepping off the busy piazza are instantly transported into a serene, elevated world that feels miles away from the modern city.

The need for formidable defences was paramount in a city that repeatedly found itself at the centre of falling empires. The earliest significant fortifications were erected in the late Roman period, expanding the city's perimeter to encompass the growing population and protect against the increasingly bold barbarian incursions. When Emperor Honorius moved the capital here, these walls were the final, crucial line of defence holding back the collapse of the Western world. Centuries later, when the Venetian Republic seized control, they recognised the strategic importance of the city and completely overhauled the defensive network. They integrated the massive Rocca Brancaleone into the wall system and heavily reinforced the ancient gates. The Venetians understood that to hold the region, the city had to be an impenetrable fortress, leading to a massive military building campaign that forever altered the urban landscape. Despite surviving countless sieges and the ravages of time, the walls faced their greatest threat in the modern era. In the nineteenth century, significant sections were demolished to make way for the new railway station, sacrificing ancient history for industrial progress. Today, the surviving stretches, though fragmented, remain a powerful, silent testament to the city's turbulent and highly contested history.

The site on which the church stands has a history stretching back to the earliest days of Christianity in the region. Long before the current Baroque structure was erected, a much older, paleochristian temple existed here, dedicated to Saint Euphemia. This ancient church stood over the remains of an even older, sprawling Byzantine palace, though knowledge of those buried ruins was completely lost to the passage of time. In the eighteenth century, the decaying ancient church was entirely demolished to make way for a modern, fashionable replacement. An elegant, circular floor plan was chosen, creating a small but perfectly proportioned architectural jewel. For centuries, parishioners worshipped here, entirely unaware that just three metres beneath their feet lay some of the most spectacular, undiscovered floor mosaics in the world. The church's destiny changed forever in 1993 during routine construction work in an adjacent courtyard. Diggers broke through the earth to reveal the astonishing 'Domus of the Stone Carpets'. The church was subsequently transformed, not just as a place of worship, but as the grand gateway to the subterranean archaeological marvel, physically linking the city's eighteenth century present with its sixth century past.