When my Bulgarian host said that we had to rush through Plovdiv’s marvelous Old Town to get to the Basilica, I had my doubts. I’ve seen plenty of churches, Roman ruins, and Byzantine sites in my travels — could one more really be worth skipping a house museum or hidden antique shop? The answer, in a word, is absolutely.

The Great Basilica of Plovdiv, more formally known as the Bishop’s Basilica of Philippopolis, isn’t just any church; it’s an extraordinary marriage of history and faith, art and archaeology. And while I loved almost everything about this city, the Basilica ended up being my very favorite Plovdiv discovery — and a highlight of my whole Bulgaria trip. The mosaics here are simply spectacular.

Rediscovering Plovdiv’s Great Basilica

If you’re searching for the Great Basilica, don’t look for soaring towers or glinting domes. Instead, look down. During the Ottoman era, the Basilica was abandoned and covered over — and eventually, everyone forgot about it entirely. It was only by chance that construction workers building an underpass in the 1980s found the ruins and brought the church back to light. Since then, there’s been an ongoing effort by conservators and archaeologists to preserve the Basilica and present it within a remarkable, state-of-the-art museum.

The Largest Early Christian Church in Bulgaria

It’s surprising that anyone forgot about the Basilica, because it was the largest Early Christian temple in the country. Originally built by the Romans in the 300s C.E., it measured 86 meters (283 feet) long by 38.5 meters (126 feet) wide, making it extremely large for the time (a very cool viewfinder will give you a glimpse of what it would have looked like when it was actually standing).

Mosaics covered more than 2,000 square meters of the Basilica floor space; some of these are Roman, but most date to Byzantine times. One of the most remarkable features of the church is that it actually had two layers of mosaics, one built right on top of the other — and you can still see remnants of those layers in the floor today.

You’ll find a wide variety of mosaics here, all made from stones cut into tiny, hand-cut cubes known as tesserae. When the Romans first built the mosaic floor, the patterns were simpler and mostly in black and white. In the Byzantine era, the designs were more complicated, and it became fashionable to use multicolored tiles in what’s now called the “rainbow style.”

Geometric Mosaic Designs

When you first enter the Great Basilica, the first things to catch your eye are the wildly complex geometric patterns—so lively they almost look three-dimensional.

Symbols Beneath Your Feet

You’ll also find pagan symbols that were commonly incorporated into early Christian art, such as twisted ribbons …

… and several versions of endless knots (also known as Solomon’s knots).

Why was a Christian church borrowing from pagan imagery? Christianity was quite new to the world — less than 400 years old — and the adherents of this new religion were still finding their artistic footing. They did start to incorporate Christian symbols, such as crosses …

… and the spring of life.

There’s even a set of tiles that reveals the partial name of a donor who paid for the mosaics’ development (all we know is that his name ended in “-cian”).

The Birds of the Basilica

But the most impressive feature by far has to be the birds. They’re detailed, they’re well-preserved — and they’re everywhere.

What’s not to love about that pecking-the-ground-upside-down bird? I think he’s my favorite — but then I look around and change my mind because there are so many great contenders. Over 100 unique bird designs exist in the Great Basilica, repeated diagonally by species. Why are there so many? The truth is, no one is exactly sure. We know that some birds were symbolic — peacocks stood for immortality …

… roosters represented St. Peter (because he heard the rooster crow after his third denial of Jesus) …

… and ducks signified vigilance.

But why so many other birds? Do they represent a sort of avian Garden of Eden? Were birds familiar animals that parishioners would have recognized and appreciated? Is it just that the bishop liked birds? We have no idea.

We do know that these include both exotic fowl and birds that people would have seen every day around ancient Philippopolis.

There are even birds feeding their chicks, birds in pairs …

… parrots in cages…

… and several extra-large peacock medallions (this one would have greeted churchgoers the moment they stepped inside).

I love all of these birds — they’re stately, they’re playful, they’re still recognizable nearly 2,000 years later. In fact, I love the bird mosaics so much that I’ve downloaded “Birds in Everyday Life and Art in Bulgaria (Thracian and Roman Periods),” by Zlatozar Lev, published in the Historia Naturalis Bulgarica in 2018, which is incredibly helpful if you want to go down the nerdy rabbit hole of identifying many of the individual bird by species.

Windows into Ancient Artistry

It’s an impressive display of craftsmanship and vision — and of the ways in which symbolism was emerging in a newly Christian world. Even the idea of a giant basilica as a place of worship was new in the 4th century, a change introduced by Emperor Constantine. It’s easy to imagine how much all of this would have awed early churchgoers, especially anyone who was newly contemplating conversion.

The museum does an excellent job of interpreting all of this. The signage is helpful without being overwhelming — I always appreciate good interpretive work …

… especially when it goes into the technique behind what you’re seeing.

There’s even a glass-walled room that allows you to see conservators at work, though sadly, they were taking a break when we passed by.

What to Expect at Plovdiv’s Great Basilica

The museum has two floors — the second of which is nearly entirely birds. For most of the visit experience, you’ll find yourself walking a foot or two above the mosaics on raised glass walkways, with blue plastic booties covering your shoes to keep everything clean (I balked a bit at the environmental wastefulness of so much throw-away plastic, but I also understand the need).

A visit bonus: the entire museum is temperature-controlled — so if you’re in Plovdiv on a sweltering summer’s day, you can escape to a little AC. Make sure to give yourself at least forty-five minutes to explore the whole thing, and don’t miss the giant peacock medallion that’s tucked between the entrance and the exit (it’ll be on your left before you leave the gift shop).

Doing more Bulgaria travel? Don’t miss my posts on how to spend one day in Sofia, Plovdiv for History Lovers, and the joys of the Rhodope Mountains.