The first of the great Roman roads ran 330 miles to the Adriatic port of Brundisium. A vital military and trade conduit, it doubled as a PR piece for the emerging superpower: massive stones skillfully fitted together, wide enough for two carriages to pass, curbs, gutters, sidewalks, stone obelisks marking each mile. Such a road had never been seen before. It conveyed ambition, boldness, power.

Two thousand years later the impression remains compelling. From the gates of Rome the road plunges straight across the countryside toward the Alban Hills. Umbrella pines frame green meadows with grazing sheep and grand villas. Ancient tombs line the road; sober faces facing summon our attention. Family recognition was prized, so tomb space on this famous road was in high demand. Freed slaves, proud to be known as Roman citizens, were especially anxious to post their names.

The evocative atmosphere has long been celebrated in art and poetry. In the eighteenth century the Via Appia was a requisite stop for artists and literati on the “Grand Tour”: Goethe, Stendhal and Byron were among the admirers. Today it’s protected parkland, a vast greenbelt of rolling hills and farms where the ancient past comes alive. Close by is the beautiful Park of the Aqueducts, a showcase of the Roman obsession with water, and the astonishing technology employed to deliver it.

Looming in the distance are the volcanic Alban Hills, revered by the Romans as the birthplace of their civilization. Perched on the rim of a crater, the village of Castel Gandolfo overlooks beautiful Lake Albano. Nearby are ruins of a Roman army camp, baths, amphitheater, and a massive underground cistern: a marvel of ancient engineering. A wooded path leads to a second crater lake; a Roman road hidden in the forest climbs in dramatic fashion to the top of Mount Albanus, where a temple of Jupiter once stood.