Lavish, ritualized banquets were prevalent in the Achaemenid Empire, also known as the First Persian Empire, a dynasty of ancient Persia (modern-day Iran) that ruled from 550 to 330 BCE. Wine was a key part of these events, poured from ornate silver and gold vessels, likely by highly knowledgeable sommeliers. According to the Greek historian Herodotus, who lived during the time period, wine’s role in civic life went beyond simple indulgence. He claimed that ancient Persians debated each decision twice: once drunk and once sober, and not necessarily in that order. 

“It is their custom to deliberate about the gravest matters when they are drunk,” Herodotus wrote in his texts on Greco-Persian conflicts. “If, being sober, they still approve it, they act on it, but if not, they drop it. And if they have deliberated about a matter when sober, they decide upon it when they are drunk.” Notably, Herodotus is the only source claiming this custom exists, and modern historians are torn on the veracity of the passage. Some consider it to be accurate, noting that, for a Greek writer, Herodotus is surprisingly impartial toward Persians. Others believe it to be an exaggeration that paints ancient Persian kings as reckless and irrational — although a moderate amount of wine could have been a part of any decision-making process.

Whether drunk discussion and sober editing were standard procedure or not, the Achaemenid Empire was wildly successful for nearly two centuries. It is one of history’s largest empires, reaching parts of Europe’s Balkan Peninsula as well as modern-day India and Egypt, and was known for its intricate architecture, prized art, and culturally diverse citizenry.

Building an 18-level underground city may sound like the project of an advanced future society, but the world’s largest underground metropolis was actually constructed around 1200 BCE. The ancient subterranean city of Elengubu, now called Derinkuyu, lies in the semi-arid region of Cappadocia in modern-day Turkey. Tourists can meander tunnels and walk among subterranean rooms, stables, schools, wineries, and even a chapel — all underground. At its peak, during Islamic raids on the Byzantine Empire in the seventh century, Derinkuyu housed up to 20,000 people. 

While the origin of the site remains a mystery, experts theorize that the Hittites, a superpower of the Bronze Age, likely built the first few levels while under attack from the Phrygians, who expanded the project when they moved into Central Anatolia after the Hittites’ collapse. Although the Phrygians were skilled architects, the surrounding landscape also aided in this ambitious construction effort. Due to the area’s semi-arid nature, Cappadocia’s soil is easily malleable and its rock easily moldable. Three volcanoes — Mount Erciyes, Mount Hasan, and Mount Melendiz — formed the region millions of years ago, and the pyroclastic material found in the area could be carved with simple tools and little effort. Today, for 60 Turkish lira (about $2), visitors can once again descend into this subterranean world and experience life underground.

One of the oldest religious practices in ancient Rome was augury, or reading signs from the gods through the behavior of birds, the idea being that the birds were deliberate divine messengers. Augurs, or bird divination experts, would sometimes draw diagrams on the ground to help them interpret behavior from owls, woodpeckers, crows, and other wild birds. 

These avian messages, called auspices, were taken extremely seriously, but wild birds weren’t always around to deliver them — so eventually, ancient Roman priests started keeping “sacred chickens” that they could call upon at any time. These fortunetelling chickens were especially prized for military decisions, and would be consulted before any major moves to make sure the gods approved.

When their services were required, the chickens would be released from their cages and fed so that augurs could interpret their eating patterns. Broadly, a chicken refusing to eat was a very bad sign, while a chicken gobbling up its food while stomping its feet was a very good one.

The most notable cautionary tale about not heeding the fowls’ warnings came in 249 BCE. According to the ancient scholar Cicero, one Roman consul commanding a fleet of ships dismissed some bad omens before going into battle. When he was told the chickens wouldn’t eat, he ordered them thrown overboard, commenting, “Let them drink.” He was soundly defeated, and later recalled by the Roman Senate.