On your left-this, believe it or not, is the ground where the ancient city of Aternum once pulled the strings of Roman logistics and gossip. Hard to picture it now, but imagine yourself standing at the edge of a river, hearing merchants bicker in Latin, and soldiers grumbling about being posted in “the middle of nowhere.” Well, to them it was the end of every road…but to Rome, Aternum was a key portal, a kind of ancient Mediterranean airport with way better wine.
Aternum started long before Julius Caesar had opinions-its earliest villagers were probably Pelasgians from across the Adriatic. The Vestini, locals with a sharp eye for prime riverbank property, took over by the fifth century B.C. and started trading. By Roman times, this spot was a melting pot for Vestini, Marrucini, and Peligni-all joining forces to run a port that would set the city on the map, mostly thanks to the Tiburtina Valeria road ending right here. Think of this road as the Roman equivalent of a freeway off-ramp, funnelling goods, travelers, and the occasional ambitious senator straight to the docks.
Despite all this action, Rome never considered Aternum important enough to grant the coveted “municipium” status. Sorry, no big amphitheaters or baths popping up here-just temples, warehouses, fish guts, and the hard work of keeping boats moving between Italy and Dalmatia. Everyday life played out between two key roads-one hugging the Tiber (their local “Main Street”), the other snaking off to Ortona. Some smart urban planner back then decided a triangular city layout was the way to go, concentrating their best real estate around these arteries.
Fast-forward to the fall of Rome, and things got pretty dramatic, in that “besieged by barbarians” way. Goths, Byzantines, and eventually the Longobards all gave it a try. At one point, the Byzantines even built massive 3-meter-thick stone walls to keep the rest out. It mostly worked…until the Longobards came and introduced their own brand of real estate management-mainly fire, swords, and a flair for chaos. Legends say the city’s patron saint, Cetteo, got tossed off the bridge with a rock tied to his neck by two local Longobard bosses, all because he was caught between brawling empires.
You’re probably wondering what’s left to see. Not much on the surface-centuries of rebuilding took their toll. But archeologists have unearthed pocket-size glimpses: a lost Roman mosaic hidden till 2001, tumbled stones from the old port, the footings of a temple to Victory-turned-synagogue-turned-church. If you’re curious, the remains of this shape-shifting building lie under your feet and in glass cases, right across from the main cathedral.
So, Aternum wasn’t Rome or Pompeii. It was rough, strategic, always up for a fight… and the reason Pescara eventually shrugged off its ancient name. As the centuries rolled on, the old town faded out, reemerging much later with a snazzier title-Pescara.
When you’re ready, set off southeast for about nine minutes to reach Perenich Palace.
